#i just.... the idea of percy as the Just Some Guy in the middle of a dark fairytale aftermath is so god damn funny to me

[twinsarekeepers]

Reading some of the critiques of pjotv and now I know why y’all are on tumblr and not in the writer’s room 💀💀

[potatoesandsunshine]

rotating them in my mind (perc'ahlia........)

[lilislegacy]

i love how in heroes of olympus, there’s a boat full of couples (+leo☺️). and yet even if you didn’t know when each couple started dating, it’s so blatantly obvious that percy and annabeth have been together the longest, and are the most serious

cause frank and hazel are still pretty nervous/unsure with each other. they JUST started dating, and are so pure and adorable. they just haven’t quite figured out the romance part yet

and jason and piper have their moments, but they’re just so… distant. like not physically, of course, but they just don’t really seem to connect on a deep level. and they aren’t super affectionate, at least not physically or openly. piper is constantly unsure about where they’re at, and while jason has thoughts about how great piper is, he doesn’t openly show his feelings too often.

but percabeth? they’re the oldest in age (physically), have known each other the longest, and have been romantically committed to each other for the most time. they act like they’ve been together for eternity, which is funny since they were technically only dating for 4 months before percy got abducted. but they just have such a deep history together and such an intense connection. they’re in it for the long run. there’s no doubt or uncertainty - and it shows. like…annabeth is so wife girlfriend. there are so many funny/cute little moments, like her scolding him for putting too much syrup on his pancakes, and telling him to take a shower when he smells bad. and when percy suggests him and jason should go on a dangerous quest instead of annabeth and piper, instead of being like “omg he cares so much about me😍” (which hazel and piper would have done) annabeth is like “what seaweed brain?? you think two guys can do better than two girls??” and percy is immediately like “uh uh NO nope i definitely do NOT think that!!” he knows better. the immediate fear is so husband boyfriend of him. they simultaneously have the most disagreements (remember when percy called annabeth out when she thought she should navigate through rome alone, and basically called her stupid for thinking it was a good idea, and then they argued and had a face-off, which percy won) - while also being the most lovey dovey (they’re constantly putting their hands on each other - annabeth putting her hand on his chest to calm him down, putting their hands on each other’s arms for support, percy having his arm around her when they’re at the edge of the ship, always giving each other a kiss on the mouth or the cheek when they separate, etc). and they have no issues sneaking off in the middle of the night to do some talking and kissing. and quite frankly, making out in front of piper in BoO (remember that? when piper got super uncomfortable at how long their kiss was lasting, and then annabeth let out, and i quote, “grunt-whimpers”). they are just so natural and comfortable with each other. piper says it herself.

i just think it’s so funny. little frazel being adorable and blushing when they hold hands, jiper is happy to be dating but they’re also a little angsty and uncertain, and then there’s percabeth just being the old married couple they are. (and leo is being cute and fixing stuff)

[nofingjustaninchident]

⛧° will you be my prom date? - hoo boys °⛧

⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧

content: headcannons for my favorite boys of how they would ask you on a date!

warnings: cursing, non-estabilished relationship, slight sexual allusions (nothing too NSFW), friends with benefits, characters are all 18+,

a/n: i had this idea in the middle of portuguese class and i loved it so now i'm writing cause i'm independent MUAHAHAHA- jk jk i'm fine (questionable) annd i already started writing that fic i told u guys about... it'll be good, i hope

⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧

⛧Jason Grace

He does not know how to ask a girl out.

Like, he has no fucking clue on how to do that. You see, he's a perfectionist in absolutely everything in his life, and would be no less concerned with his girl. Who, by the way, is not his girl. 'Yet', he keeps telling himself that.

So, of course that he has to have the most perfect plan of all on how to ask you out to prom.

He'd do absolutely averything to make you feel safe and loved, so when you told him a few weeks before that the most expected experience of your school-life was THE prom, he took that as a subtle cue that you wanted him to invite you to go with him.

It indeed was, but you would never tell that to anyone.

Of course, the first person he thinks to go to is Piper, since she knows you and she's a daughter of Aphrodite. Especially because of that last one.

So of course she advises him on how she thinks it's the best way to invite you to prom.

One day, you had a evening date on top of the Zeus cabin - you both found a spot that you could throw some blankets and lay down together, watching the stars. It was almost on routine, but tonight he was very much anxious.

"Right there it's Andromeda. There, Orion and a little bit further down, right there, it's Pegasus." You say, pointing the constelations to him as you always did. But tonight, he wasn't staring at the night sky. He was staring at you.

How could you be so beautiful with those soft lips, those cute cheeks, that kissable nose, those always happy eyes... you were just too beautiful. And it was just amazingly cute how your eyes shined and your smile got even brighter when you were talking about something you liked.

So he decided to just fuck the whole plan up. Which was definetly something that the Normal Jason would ever do, but this was Madly-In-Love Jason. He'd do it, for you.

"You wanna go to prom with me? Like, as my date?" He'd ask you. You snapped your head towards him as if you hadn't heard it quite right.

"Um... what?" You asked, confused it he really meant what he just asked.

"Do. You. Want. To. Go. To. Prom. With. Me?" He asked pausedly, making sure you understood. You felt your cheeks burn bright red and a smile creep up your lips.

You leaned forwards and connected your lips in a soft and tender kiss, giving him the answer he needed. "Thought you'd never ask."

⛧° Percy Jackson

He only discovered that the prom was gonna happen one week before it did.

And that's when it clicks to him why you're being all weird and evasive, refusing his kisses, hugs and the 'i need you rn' texts.

Sure you were just friends with benefits, but still hurt you quite a lot that he didn't even bother to ask you to check if you were even going to the prom.

Little did you know he had no idea there was going to be a prom.

So when he texted you this morning with a ‘meet me at the aquarium in twenty.’ you considered ignoring him. But maybe he was finally going to apologize, you hoped.

The first thing you saw when you got to the aquarium that was the usual spot of your dates, he was there holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers. He wasn’t looking at you, instead he was looking at the mirror, fixing his… not messy hair?

That’s when you noticed. He was in a freaking tuxedo, which was a sight for sore eyes, his usually messy hair was all gelled up and he looked… even more handsome than usual.

When he looked at you, a smile immediately crept up his lips, and you were suddenly feeling weird in that old pair of jeans and a baby blue cropped. Still, he looked like he had never seen anything prettier than you.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He said and walked towards you, kissing your cheek softly. You smiled and blushed, forgetting for a moment that you were still mad at him. He handed you the flowers, which you took gratefully from his hands.

When you looked up at him again, he seemed… guilty about something. He wasn’t even looking at you in the eye when he sighed and pulled you close to him, hugging your body.

“I’m so sorry, y/n/n, i’m so, so sorry. I swear i didn’t know that the prom was coming, i just- i’m sorry for being such an airhead.” He said, giving multiple kisses to the top of your head.

“It’s ok. I’m not mad anymore.” You said, smiling at the boy in front of you. “How can i even be mad when you literally call me to an aquarium in which you are in a freaking tuxedo?” Your asked, kissing his lips softly.

“Really? You forgive me?” He asked, his eyes hopeful.

“Of course i do.” You said. Then, you raised one hand to his hair and muffled it, making all messy again. “And i prefer your hair in its normal rebel condition.”

He smiled as you walked towards the aquarium that you two had visited multiple times before. The place of your first kiss, the first holding hands, the first date…

But when you got near the fish tank, he asks you to stop and close your eyes, so that’s what you do.

Five minutes later, he comes back to your side and smiles, “You can open it now.”

And when you opened… well, all the fish in the tank were in a formation that said ‘Prom?’, and your smile instantly brightened. The boy next to you had the biggest smile ever seen on earth’s surface, and it was the cutest thing ever.

“Of course i’ll go to prom with you, dumbass.” You said, pulling him down by his collar and giving him a very passionate kiss.

⛧° Leo Valdez

He just let life tell him the right moment.

Literally, he couldn’t care less to whether you both were going to the prom or not. He just wanted to make you happy as always.

So when he discovered that you indeed wanted to go to prom, he made his life’s most important work until this day: a metal rose that, when you pressed a button to the side, opened to a message of ‘Do you wanna go to prom with me?’ that he knew you’d like.

He made it and triple checked it, just to be sure it’d work. It did work, but he couldn’t keep the thought that probably something was gonna be ruined with his bad luck.

So, one day, he was in bunker nine, covered in grease and soot, his hair messy and a little oiled up. He had just finished the rose-mission and was getting his stuff together before leaving to cabin nine so he could take a shower and change into clean clothes.

That’s until you ruined his plans and came in unexpectedly.

“Leo?” You asked, getting inside the hot bunker. Lots of projects were in the table, on the walls and even on the floor. Lots of weird materials that you didn’t quite know the name to were spread all over the place. It was actually cute.

“Mi amor, is it you?” He asked, leaving the shadows to a very smiley, pretty and happy you. He thanked the gods that he had taken the rose out of his work table before you got there.

“Yeah, it is. Whatcha doing?” You asked, sitting down in a pouf that you told him to put there, moths before.

“Just, uh… some weird Leo Valdez stuff, y’know.” He said, jokingly.

When he looked back at you, the tip of his nose caught fire. You were just… ethereal. Just sat there, looking around his work, hair pulled back in a messy braid, the small little pout that you always seemed to have in your lips…

He needed to do that right now.

Right now it’s the perfect moment.

Hell, every moment is the perfect moment. As long as it’s with you.

“Hey, princesa, i made something for you. I don’t know if you’ll like it, but, uh… yeah.” He said, getting closer and crouching down in front of you.

He took the metal rose out of his pocket and handed it to you. Your face immediately turned into a bright smile, grabbing the rose from his hand and pressing a kiss to his lips.

“Aw, honey, thank you! It’s so pretty!” You said, amazed by the beauty of the metal in front of you.

“Just, hm..” He said as he pressed a button in the back of the rose.

Thanks the gods, Tyche decided to be on his side today.

It occurred just right in the way he planned. The rose opened slowly, revealing a small little message. When you read it - with difficulty from the dyslexia -, your eyes watered.

You pulled him in for a hug, not caring it he was all greasy and sweaty and dirty. “Yes! Of course i will, babe!” She said, giving kisses all over his face.

“Te quiero, princesa.” He whispered and kissed you again.

⛧° Frank Zhang

He was nervous.

His hands were all sweaty and he wasn’t sure if you were going to accept the prom invite.

Fine, you were almost dating by now. But what if you stopped liking him? What if you found someone else? What if you hated him? What if-

Well, he was overthinking. A lot. And he just wished everything would go smoothly, and definitely not wrong. Nope. Anything is gonna go wrong here, folks.

You’re going to a little date dinner in the evening, you’ll can’t about your days and, in the end, he’ll ask you to be his prom date. Everything will be completely okay.

And at the beginning it really was. He got himself to calm down and was relatively fine, compared to earlier, and you just talked together at the beach, talking about your days.

The whole problem began when you mentioned the subject ‘prom’.

Oh, look at his hands getting all sweaty again.

He’s kind of scared, but he forces himself to ask you the question anyways.

“Hey, y/n, i was w-wondering if… if you-“ Before he got to finish, the boy got so nervous he transformed himself into a dog.

Why a dog, you ask? Because he remembered one day that you mentioned to him that dogs were your favorite animal on the world.

And he never forgets anything that you tell him about yourself.

But he got so, so embarrassed, thinking that he had ruined every chance that he had with you.

Little did he knew you just fell in love even more.

When he shifted back into his human form, you were still giggling, and he was super embarrassed about the situation.

“I’m sorry, i… i kinda shift when i got nervous..” He mumbled under his breath, looking at his hands.

You chuckled a little more and pulled him to you, giving him a kiss to the cheek. “It’s okay. Now, what were you gonna ask me?”

“Uh… do you… do you wanna go to prom with me?” He asked the question, and your smile just brightened. You kissed him in the lips now and felt him melting onto your lips.

“Of course, big guy.”

a/n: i kinda liked it???? like what. oh, thank you SO MUCH ALL OF YOU CAUSE I REACHED TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY LIKES LIKE WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK??? LIKE, I MADE MY DIRST POST THREE DAYS AGO, TOPS!! Im just so proud and thankful, i love you all! my 24 besties 😭😭

[fryingpan1234567]

aaaaaanyways. pride month at Camp Half Blood?

if you remember that one post from a while ago (general hc’s about chb), I did say I would do a fully pride post eventually

so without further ado, I present to all my lovely gay demigods:

PRIDE MONTH AT CHB🗣️🗣️

SO we’ve already discussed the decorations of some of the cabins, like Percy putting rainbow hippocampi scales all over the walls, the Demeter and Persephone cabins growing colorful flowers all over their roofs, the Hecate cabin and its Sentient Gay Door

I like to think the Iris cabin is just fully blasting rainbows all the time it looks like a Minecraft beacon

they play capture the flag every June with a pride flag that has the CHB logo on it

limited edition CHB pride merch😭

Mr. D defending trans campers by driving bigots slightly insane long enough to slap themselves and then go back to normal

Y’ALL KNOW ABOUT THE PRONOUN CORRECTION AIR HORNS? THAT’S THE ENTIRE APOLLO CABIN + LEO AND PERCY

Some ignorant prick about a transmasc camper: “Oh yeah she—“

Percy: *AIR HORN* “IT’S HE, BITCH”

Ignorant prick: “Okay Jesus I’m sorry”

A different ignorant prick: *makes some dumb joke about “always being able to tell” and receives at least seven different air horns from all the Apollo campers in the vicinity*

Leo’s been following this one really irritating chick around all day because she can’t figure out one of his sibling’s genders and blasting her in the face every time she fucks up their pronouns😭😭😭

anyways yeah I like to imagine there’s a demigod pride festival somewhere, maybe in New York

or no there’s demigods everywhere I bet they have parade floats all the time in lots of cities and the Mist conceals the “fireworks” which are actually just godly light shows

Apollo rocks up to camp in a rainbow crop top and a pink drink from Starbucks just to sing Born This Way in the middle of the day and then dip again

Aphrodite blessing random queer couples with finding perfect date setups “conveniently” in their paths

all the gods physically restraining Hera when she tries to go fuck with Jason while he’s on a date w Leo

Percy and Annabeth in matching shirts that say ✨BEST BI✨ with the Best Buy price tag logo in the middle

Nico got glitterbombed on June 1st the second he stepped out of his cabin by the entire Apollo cabin (and Jason) and is still finding sparkles in his hair a week later

Aphrodite kids are walking dictionaries of all the rainbow terms, somehow, and they also all know which days in June are for which awareness or pride or whatever flag

campers who transitioned over the school year and coming back to camp a different gender and their godly parent re-claims them as their true self

Percy “I can’t believe I used to think I was straight” Jackson educating some of the younger campers on bisexuality and how, no, you don’t always know right away

Annabeth “I had a crush on Thalia and Luke at the same time and it was horrible” Chase always reassuring the nervous kids that there’s nothing wrong with being queer (and that she’ll fight any homophobic family members they may have)

actually they kind of all do that

Some little kid: “Well……. I don’t wanna tell my stepdad, he might kick me out”

Percy, remembering that his dad kept Medusa’s head after it got sent to Olympus: “Give me your address, I have an idea”

Piper will verbally eviscerate anybody she catches being even remotely homophobic. I mean she will swipe phones out of her siblings’ hands to tell off some ignorant grandmother

Jason does NOT get into physical altercations outside of sparring and literal war, but the closest he ever got was after hearing someone call Nico a slur (Percy and Leo had to physically drag him away from the other guy)

William Solace has white cowboy boots. I Will Start Sobbing On The Spot

Percy and Jason wore matching skirts for the pride festival and it was great— these 6-foot-plus brick shithouses of heroes who have single-handedly won wars aggressively waving tiny pride flags at each other and dancing to IT GIRL on the quad

Cecil and Lou Ellen made these magic rainbow smoke bombs, crawled up on the roof of the Hermes cabin, and slingshotted them into the masses Just Because™️

(Will’s hair was blue and pink for weeks)

RAINBOW WAR PAINT FOR CAPTURE THE FLAG.

Clarisse fucking kicked someone into the lake because they made fun of one of her siblings’ dyed hair

Connor thought it would be funny to leave a mini pan flag on top of Mr. D’s Diet Coke stash, mostly as a harmless joke, but the next day he noticed Mr. D had tucked it into his horrible Hawaiian shirt pocket like a handkerchief😭

watching Love, Simon in the amphitheater for movie night and half the campers had to excuse themselves early for sobbing too hard

Malcolm and Annabeth reread Red White and Royal Blue every summer. They say they’re Henry and June, Connor is Alex, and Percy is Nora

(this is confirmed when the two of them start a foot fight in the dining pavilion with a Chipotle burrito)

Leo IMing Jo and Emmie to wish them a happy pride (and tell Georgina and Waystation I said hello)

Piper and Leo getting into a HEATED debate about whether Velma Dinkley is a lesbian or not

”YOU CANNOT LOOK AT HER OVERSIZED-SWEATER-OVER-MY-PROM-DRESS ASS AND TELL ME YOU THINK SHE’S TOTALLY STRAIGHT—“

”WHAT SHE AND SHAGGY HAD WAS REAL, BEAUTY QUEEN! HOT DOG WATER AIN’T GOT NOTHIN ON NORVILLE ROGERS—“

”LEO! HER NAME IS MARCIE! AND THEY ARE EACH OTHER’S W A L L P A P E R S .”

Jason, sitting in the middle of them, now deaf in both ears: Lupa give me strength

GUYS PLEASE SEND ME SPECIFIC SHIPS OR CHARACTERS TO WRITE PRIDE HC’S FOR I WOULD LOVE TO🙏🙏🙏🙏

[jgracie]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ SPEED DRIVE!

↳ part two!

ferrari driver!percy jackson x fem!reader

masterlist | rules

warnings one swear word!

on the radio . . . speed drive (charlie xcx)

percy knew it was a bad idea leaving his house without at least a pair of sunglasses to conceal his identity. he was craving cookie dough ice cream, the grocery store wasn’t too far away and it was the middle of the night - who would possibly recognise him at a time like this?

the answer is many people. while percy did love his loyal fans, both tifosi and others, even he had to admit they were a little crazy. all it took was for one to snap a photo and post it on twitter and the rest seemed to immediately spawn all around him

“percy, is it true that luke might lose his seat next year?” he heard one voice say as he attempted to weave through the thick crowd of people. why couldn’t he have one second of peace? unfortunately, percy had made another awful decision that night - walking to the grocery store

this left ferrari’s golden boy with two options: either tough out the wall home with fans and paparazzi alike swarming him, or find someone who was willing to drive him home. with cars on the street in front of him were stationery thanks to the red light, percy made his decision

he bolted for the first one that caught his eye, a car that was small, (ironically) bright red and most importantly had an open roof. percy also had to admit the driver was kind of pretty, at least from what he could see from that far away

the light turned yellow and you prepared yourself to continue driving. you’d only recently gotten your drivers license and this was your first time driving without someone more experienced with you in the car, so you were just praying to end up at your apartment in one piece

just as the light became green and you began to drive, some random guy jumped into the passenger seat of your car, causing your heart rate to increase dramatically and your foot to immediately press on the brakes - out of shock or fear (or both), you weren’t sure

“drive!” he nearly yelled at you. you just stared at him, your mouth agape. it was way too late at night for this. at your state, percy huffed and leaned over to the wheel, beginning to steer for you

this snapped you out of the daze you were in and you slapped his hands away, your brows furrowing in anger as you drove, “who the fuck are you and what do you think you’re doing in my car? i’m pulling over right now, you need to get out.”

“no, please, i promise i didn’t mean any harm! can you just drop me off at my house?” he asked. you didn’t need to look at him to know he was incredibly desperate. who was this guy? as you recalled his face from when he first got into your car, you realised he did look a little familiar, but you still couldn’t figure out his identity

at your silence, percy continued, “i’ll do anything, do you like car racing? i can get you tickets for that!”

okay, so he was rich rich. you didn’t know the first thing about racing, but one of your friends was obsessed with formula one. specifically, a driver called peter jameson (or something along those lines). still, you rolled your eyes at his offer, disliking the way he attempted to bribe you

“no, it’s fine, you don’t have to do anything. where do you live?”

after percy told you his address, the car ride was silent. neither of you knew what to say to the other. you were still shaken by his sudden appearance, and percy was trying to conceal the blush that coated his cheeks. he was right, you were beautiful. the moon made your skin glow and your eyes brighter. from the death grip you had on the wheel, percy could tell you were new at driving. cute

“thanks a lot, you have absolutely no idea how much you helped me tonight,” percy said as he got out of your car. part of you was a little sad to see him go. sure, he freaked you out, but something about him was magnetic - maybe it was those sea green eyes that put all of poseidon’s oceans to shame, or the light dusting of freckles you hadn’t noticed until now

giving him a small smile, you said, “you’re welcome. have a good night.” you stayed for a little and watched as he entered his home, a bittersweet feeling tugging at your heart

once you’d gotten home, you noticed he’d left something on the passenger seat. a strip of paper with a line of messily scrawled numbers lay on the leather

call me. (917) 173-1839 — PJ

[thewidowsghost]

The Sky (Annabeth Chase x Jackson!Reader)

After hearing Annabeth gripe about her father for the last two years, (Y/n) had expected him to have devil horns and fangs. She had not expected him to be wearing an old-fashioned aviator’s cap and goggles. He looks so strange, with his eyes bugging out through the glasses, that she, her brother Percy, Thalia, and Zoe take a step back on the back porch. 

“Hello,” he says in a friendly voice, “Are you delivering my airplanes?”

Thalia, Zoe, Percy, and (Y/n) look at each other warily. 

“Um, no, sir,” Percy says. 

“Drat,” he says. “I need three more Sopwith Camels.”

“Right,” (Y/n) says, though she has no idea what he’s talking about. “We’re, uh, friends,” - not exactly - “of Annabeth’s.”

“Annabeth?” he straightens, as if (Y/n) had just given him an electric shock. “Is she all right? Has something happened?”

None of the demigods answer, but their faces must’ve told him that something was very wrong. He takes off his cap and goggles. He has the same sandy-colored hair as Annabeth, and intense brown eyes. He’s handsome, for an older guy, but it looks as though he hadn’t shaved in a couple of days, and his shirt is buttoned wrong, so one side of his collar sticks up higher than the other side. 

“You’d better come in,” Dr. Chase says grimly. 

The Chase’s house smells like fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies and jazz music is coming from the kitchen. It seems like a messy, happy kind of home – the kind of place that someone had lived in forever.

“Dad!” a little boy screams. “He’s taking apart my robots!”

“Bobby,” Dr. Chase calls absently, “don’t take apart your brother’s robots.”

“I’m Bobby,” the little boy protests. “He’s Matthew!”

“Mathew,” Dr. Chase calls, “don’t take apart your brother’s robots.”

“Okay, Dad!”

Dr. Chase turns to us. “We’ll go upstairs to my study. This way.”

“Honey?” a woman calls. Annabeth’s stepmother appears in the living room, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “Who are our guests?” she asks. 

“Oh,” Dr. Chase says. “This is . . .” He stares blankly at the demigods.

“Frederick,” she chides. “You forgot to ask them their names?”

The demigods introduce themselves a little uneasily, but Mrs. Chase seems nice to (Y/n). She asks if the demigods were hungry, and they admit that they were, and she lets them know she’d bring up some cookies, sandwiches, and sodas. 

“Dear,” Dr. Chase says. “They came about Annabeth?”

(Y/n) half expects Mrs. Chase to turn into a raving lunatic at the mention of her stepdaughter, but she just purses her lips and looks concerned. “All right. Go on up to the study, and I’ll bring you some food.” Her gaze rests knowingly on (Y/n), and she smiles at the daughter of Poseidon. “Nice meeting you, (Y/n). I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Upstairs, they walk into Dr. Chase’s study, and a gasp of amazement escapes from (Y/n)’s lips. 

The room is wall-to-wall books, but what really catches (Y/n)’s attention are the war models. There is a huge table with miniature tanks and soldiers fighting along a blue painted river, with hills and fake trees and stuff. Old-fashioned biplanes hang on strings from the ceiling, tilted at crazy angles like they were in the middle of a dogfight.

Dr. Chase smiles. "Yes. The Third Battle of Ypres. I'm writing a paper, you see, on the use of Sopwith Camels to strafe enemy lines. I believe they played a much greater role than they've been given credit for."

He plucks a biplane from its string and sweeps it across the battlefield, making airplane engine noises as he knocks down little German soldiers. 

(Y/n) smiles slightly, looking up at her girlfriend’s father. 

Zoe comes over and studies the battlefield. “The German lines were farther from the river.”

Dr. Chase stares at her. “How do you know that?”

"I was there," she says matter-of-factly. "Artemis wanted to show us how horrible war was, the way mortal men fight each other. And how foolish, too. The battle was a complete waste."

Dr. Chase opens his mouth in shock. “You –”

“She’s a Hunter, sir,” Thalia says. “But that’s not wy we’re here. We need –”

"You saw the Sopwith Camels?" Dr. Chase says. "How many were there? What formations did they fly?"

“Sir,” (Y/n) breaks in this time. “Annabeth, sh-she’s in danger.”

That gets his attention. He sets the biplane down.

“Of course,” he says. “Tell me everything.”

It isn’t easy, but they try. Meanwhile, the afternoon light is fading outside. 

The demigods were running out of time.

When they'd finished, Dr. Chase collapses in his leather recliner. He laces his hands. "My poor brave Annabeth. We must hurry."

"Sir, we need transportation to Mount Tamalpais," Zoe says. "And we need it immediately."

"I'll drive you. Hmm. it would be faster to fly in my Camel, but it only seats two."

"Whoa, you have an actual biplane?" Percy asks.

"Down at Crissy Field," Dr. Chase says proudly. "That's the reason I had to move here. My sponsor is a private collector with some of the finest World War I relics in the world. He let me restore the Sopwith Camel—"

Sir," (Y/n) says. "Just a car would be great. And it might be better if we went without you. It's too dangerous."

Dr. Chase frowns uncomfortably. “Now wait a minute, young lady. Annabeth is my daughter. Dangerous or not, I . . . I can’t just –”

"Snacks," Mrs. Chase announces. She pushes through the door with a tray full of peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches and Cokes and cookies fresh out of the oven, the chocolate chips still gooey. Thalia and Percy inhale a few cookies while Zoe says, "I can drive, sir. I'm not as young as I look. I promise not to destroy your car."

Mrs. Chase knits her eyebrows. "What's this about?"

“Annabeth is in danger,” Dr. Chase says. “On Mount Tam. I would drive them . . . but apparently it’s no place for mortals.”

It sounds to (Y/n) like it was really hard for him to get that last part out.

(Y/n) waits for Mrs. Chase to say no, but to her surprise, Mrs. Chase just nods. “Then they’d better get going.”

“Right!” Dr. Chase jumps and starts patting his pockets. “My keys . . .”

His wife sighs. "Frederick, honestly. You'd lose your head if it weren't wrapped inside your aviator hat. The keys are hanging on the peg by the front door."

“Right!” Dr. Chase says. 

Zoe and (Y/n) each grab a sandwich. “Thank you both,” Zoe says. “We should go. Now!”

The four hustle out the door and down the stairs, the Chases right behind them. 

“(Y/n)” Mrs. Chase calls as they’re leaving, “tell Annabeth . . . tell her she still has a home here, will you? Remind her of that.”

(Y/n) takes one last look at the messy living room - Annabeth’s half brothers spilling LEGOs and arguing, and the smell of cookies filling the air. Not a bad place, she thinks. 

“I’ll tell her,” (Y/n) replies, smiling slightly at her girlfriend’s stepmother. 

They run out to the yellow Volkswagen convertible parked in the driveway. The sun is going down, and (Y/n) figures they have less than an hour to save Annabeth.

. . . 

At the top of the mountain are ruins, blocks of black granite and marble as big as houses. Broken columns. Statues of bronze that look as though they’d been half melted. 

“The ruins of Mount Othrys,” Thalia whispers in awe. 

“Yes,” Zoe says. “It was not here before. This is bad.”

“What’s Mount Othrys?” Percy asks, feeling like a fool as usual.

“The mountain fortress of the Titans,” Zoe explains. “In the first war, Olympus and Othrys were the two rival capitals of the world. Othrys was –” she winces and holds her side. 

“You’re hurt,” (Y/n) says, ignoring her own possibly cracked ribs. “Let me see.”

“No!” Zoe protests. “It is nothing. I was saying... in the first war, Othrys was blasted to pieces.”

“But . . . how is it here?”

Thalia looks around cautiously as they pick their way through the rubble, past blocks of marble and broken archways. "It moves in the same way that Olympus moves. It always exists on the edges of civilization. But the fact that it is here, on this mountain, is not good."

“Why?”

"This is Atlas's mountain," Zoe says. "Where he hold s—" She freezes. Her voice is ragged with despair. "Where he used to hold up the sky."

They had reached the summit of the mountain. A few yards ahead of them, gray clouds swirl in a heavy vortex, making a funnel cloud that almost touches the mountaintop, but instead rests on the shoulders of a twelve-year-old girl with auburn hair and a tattered silvery dress: Artemis, her legs bound to the rock with celestial bronze dreams. This is what (Y/n) had seen in her dream - though it hadn't been a cavern roof that Artemis was forced to hold. 

It was the weight of the world.

"My lady!" Zoe rushes forward. 

But Artemis says, "Stop! It is a trap. You must leave now." Her voice is strained, and she is drenched in sweat. (Y/n) had never seen a goddess in pain before, but the weight of the sky is clearly too much for Artemis.

Zoe is crying. She runs forward, despite Artemis’s protests, and tugs at the chains. 

A booming voice speaks behind them: “Ah, how touching.”

They turn. 

The General is staging there in his brown suit. At his side are Luke - and half a dozen dracaenae bearing the weight of the golden sarcophagus of Kronos. 

Annabeth stands at Luke’s side - her hands cuffed behind her back, a gag in her mouth, and Luke is holding the point of his sword to her throat. 

(Y/n) meets her girlfriend’s gaze, her sword, Tsunami, still in pen form in her hand, a thousand questions running through her head. There is one message Annabeth is sending her, however: RUN!

(Y/n)’s face hardens. “Luke,” (Y/n) snarls. “Let her go.”

Luke’s smile is pale and weak. “That is the General’s decision, (Y/n). But it’s good to see you again.”

(Y/n) spats at him. 

The general chuckles. “So much for old friends. And you, Zoe. it’s been a long time. How’s my little traitor? I will enjoy killing you.”

“Do not respond,” Artemis groans. “Do not challenge him.”

“Wait a second,” Percy says. “You’re Atlas?”

The General glances at him. "So, even the stupidest of heroes can finally figure something out. Yes, I am Atlas, the general of the Titans and terror of the gods. Congratulations. I will kill you presently, as soon as I deal with this wretched girl."

“You’re not going to hurt anyone,” Percy says, and (Y/n) grunts her agreement. “We won’t let you.”

The General sneers. “You have no right to interfere, little heroes. This is a family matter.”

Percy frowns. “A family matter?”

“Yes,” Zoe says bleakly. “Atlas is my father.”

The terrible thing is: (Y/n) can see the resemblance. Atlas has the same regal expression as Zoe, the same cold proud look in his eyes that Zoe sometimes got when she was mad, though on him, it looks a thousand times more evil. The Titan was all the things (Y/n) had originally disliked about Zoe, with none of the good she’d come to appreciate in her friend. 

"Let Artemis go," Zoe demands.

Atlas walks closer to the chained goddess. "Perhaps you'd like to take the sky for her, then? Be my guest."

Zoe opens her mouth to speak, but Artemis says, "No! Do not offer, Zoe! I forbid you."

Atlas smirks. He kneels next to Artemis and tries to touch her face, but the goddess bites at him, almost taking off his fingers.

"Hoo-hoo," Atlas chuckles. "You see, daughter? Lady Artemis likes her new job. I think I will have all the Olympians take turns carrying my burden, once Lord Kronos rules again, and this is the center of our palace. It will teach those weaklings some humility."

(Y/n) looks at Annabeth. She is desperately trying to tell (Y/n) something. She motions her head towards Luke. But all (Y/n) can do is stare at her. (Y/n) hadn't noticed before, but something about her had changed. Her beautiful blond hair was now streaked with gray - but that didn’t make Annabeth look less beautiful in (Y/n)’s eyes. 

"From holding the sky," Thalia mutters, as if she'd (Y/n)’s mind. "The weight should've killed her."

"I don't understand," Percy says. "Why can't Artemis just let go of the sky?"

Atlas laughs. "How little you understand, young one. This is the point where the sky and the earth first met, where Ouranos and Gaia first brought forth their mighty children, the Titans. The sky still yearns to embrace the earth. Someone must hold it at bay, or else it would crush down upon this place, instantly flattening the mountain and everything within a hundred leagues. Once you have taken the burden, there is no escape." Atlas smiles. "Unless someone else takes it from you." He approaches the group, studying Thalia, (Y/n), and Percy. "So these are the best heroes of the age, eh? Not much of a challenge."

"Fight us," (Y/n) spits. "And let's see."

"Have the gods taught you nothing? An immortal does not fight a mere mortal directly. It is beneath our dignity. I will have Luke crush you instead."

"So you're another coward," (Y/n) snickers.

Atlas's eyes glow with hatred. With difficulty, he turns his attention to Thalia. "As for you, daughter of Zeus, it seems Luke was wrong about you."

"I wasn't wrong," Luke managed. He looked terribly weak, and he spoke every word as if it were painful. If (Y/n) didn't hate his guts so much, she almost would've felt sorry for him. "Thalia, you still can join us. Call the Ophiotaurus. It will come to you. Look!"

He waves his hand, and next to us a pool of water appears: a pond ringed in black marble, big enough for the Ophiotaurus. Percy can imagine Bessie in that pool. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more he was sure he could hear Bessie mooing.

Don't think about him! Suddenly Grover's voice is inside my mind—the empathy link. Percy could feel his emotions. He is on the verge of panic. I'm losing Bessie. Block the thoughts!

Percy tries to make his mind go blank. He tries to think about basketball players, skateboards, and the different kinds of candy in my mom's shop. Anything but Bessie.

"Thalia, call the Ophiotaurus," Luke persists. "And you will be more powerful than the gods."

"Luke . . ." Her voice is full of pain. "What happened to you?"

"Don't you remember all those times we talked? All those times we cursed the gods?

Our fathers have done nothing for us. They have no right to rule the world!"

Thalia shakes her head. "Free Annabeth. Let her go."

"If you join me," Luke promises, "it can be like old times. The three of us together. Fighting for a better world. Please, Thalia, if you don't agree . . ."His voice falters. "It's my last chance. He will use the other way if you don't agree. Please."

(Y/n) doesn’t know what he means, but the fear in his voice sounds real enough. She could believe that Luke was in danger.

His life depends on Thalia's joining his cause. And (Y/n) is afraid Thalia might believe it, too.

"Do not, Thalia," Zoe warns. "We must fight them."

Luke waves his hand again, and a fire appears. A bronze brazier, just like the one at

camp. A sacrificial flame.

"Thalia," (Y/n) mutters. "No."

Behind Luke, the golden sarcophagus begins to glow. As it did, (Y/n) sees images in the mist

all around us: black marble walls rising, the ruins becoming whole, a terrible and beautiful

palace rising around them, made of fear and shadow.

"We will raise Mount Othrys right here," Luke promises, in a voice so strained it is hardly his. "Once more, it will be stronger and greater than Olympus. Look, Thalia. We are not weak."

He points toward the ocean, and (Y/n)’s heart falls. Marching up the side of the mountain, from the beach where the Princess Andromeda was docked, is a great army. Dracaenae and

Laestrygonians, monsters and half-bloods, hellhounds, harpies, and other things (Y/n) can’t even name. The whole ship must've been emptied, because there are hundreds, many more than (Y/n) had seen on board last summer. And they are marching toward the mountain. In a few minutes, they would be there.

"This is only a taste of what is to come," Luke says "Soon we will be ready to storm Camp Half-Blood. And after that, Olympus itself. All we need is your help."

For a terrible moment, Thalia hesitates. She gazes at Luke, her eyes full of pain, as if the only thing she wants in the world is to believe him. Then she levels her spear. "You aren't Luke. I don't know you anymore."

"Yes, you do, Thalia," he pleads. "Please. Don't make me . . . Don't make him destroy you."

There is no time. If that army gets to the top of the hill, we would be overwhelmed. (Y/n) meets her girlfriend’s eyes again. Annabeth nods.

(Y/n) looks at Percy, Thalia, and Zoe, and she decides it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world to die fighting with friends like this.

"Now," (Y/n) says, and together, they charge.

Thalia goes straight for Luke. The power of her shield is so great that his dragon- women bodyguards flee in a panic, dropping the golden coffin and leaving him alone. But despite his sickly appearance, Luke is still quick with his sword. He snarls like a wild animal and counterattacks. When his sword, Backbiter, met Thalia's shield, a ball of lightning erupted between them, frying the air with yellow tendrils of power.

As for (Y/n), she does the stupidest thing in her life - which is saying a lot. She attacks the Titan Lord Atlas.

He laughs as (Y/n) approaches, her sword Tsunami springing to life in her hands. A massive javelin appears in Atlas’s hands and his silk suit melts into full Greek battle armor. “Go on, then!”

“(Y/n)!” Zoe calls. “Beware!”

(Y/n) knows what Zoe is warning her about. Chiron had told her a long time ago: Immortals are constrained by ancient rules. But a hero can go anywhere, challenge anyone, as long as she has the nerve. Once (Y/n) attacked, however, Atlas would be free to attack back directly with all his might. 

(Y/n) swings her sword, but Atlas knocks her aside with the shaft of his javelin. (Y/n) flies through the air, and slams into a black wall. It isn’t Mist anymore. The palace is rising, brick by brick. It’s becoming real.

“Fool!” Atlas screams gleefully, swatting aside one of Zoe’s arrows. “Did you think, simply because you could challenge that petty war god, that you could stand up to me?” 

The mention of Ares sets a jolt through (Y/n), and, ignoring her throbbing ribs, she shakes off her daze and charges again. 

The javelin’s point slashes towards (Y/n) like a scythe. She raises Tsunami, planning to cut off the Titan’s weapon at the shaft, but her arm feels like lead. Suddenly, the sword weighs a ton. 

And then (Y/n) remembers Ares's warning, spoken on the beach in Los Angeles so long ago:

When you need it most, your sword will fail you.

Not now! (Y/n) pleads. But it is no good. She tries to dodge, but the javelin catches her in the chest and sends (Y/n) flying like a rag doll. (Y/n) slams into the ground, her head spinning. (Y/n) looks up and finds herself at the feet of Artemis, still straining under the weight of the sky.

“Run, girl,” she tells (Y/n). “You must run!”

Atlas is taking his time coming towards (Y/n). My sword is gone. It had skittered away over the edge of the cliff. It might reappear in her pocket—maybe in a few seconds—but it doesn’t matter. (Y/n) would be dead by then. Luke and Thalia are fighting like demons, lightning crackling around them. Percy is fighting the dracaenae, and Annabeth is on the ground, desperately struggling to free her hands.

“Die, little hero!” Atlas says. He raises his javelin to impale (Y/n). 

“No!” Zoe yells, and volley of silver arrows sprout from the armpit chink in Atlas’s armor. 

“ARGH!” he bellows and turns back towards his daughter. 

(Y/n) reaches down and feels Tsunami back in her pocket. She couldn’t fight Atlas, even with a sword. And then a chill goes down her back. She remembers the words of the prophecy: The Titan’s curse must one withstand. (Y/n) couldn’t hope to beat Atlas, but there is someone who might stand a chance. 

“The sky,” (Y/n) tells the goddess. “Give it to me.”

"No, girl," Artemis says. Her forehead is beaded with metallic sweat, like quicksilver. "You don't know what you're asking. It will crush you!"

"Annabeth took it!"

"She barely survived. She had the spirit of a true huntress. You will not last so long."

"I'll die anyway," (Y/n) replies. "Give me the weight of the sky!"

(Y/n) doesn’t wait for her answer. She takes out Tsunami and slashes through her chains. Then she steps next to her and braces herself on one knee—holding up her hands—and touches the cold, heavy clouds. For a moment, Artemis and (Y/n) bare the weight together. It was the heaviest thing she'd ever felt, as if (Y/n) was being crushed under a thousand trucks. She wanted to black out from the pain, but (Y/n) breathes deeply. I can do this.

Then Artemis slips out from under the burden, and (Y/n) holds it alone. 

Every muscle in (Y/n)’s body turns to fire. Her bones feel like they’re melting. She wants to scream, but she doesn’t have the strength to open her mouth. She begins to sink, lower and lower to the ground, the sky’s weight crushing her.

(Y/n) concentrates on breathing. (Y/n) thinks about Bianca, who’d given her life so they could get to this moment. If she could do that, then (Y/n) could hold the sky.

(Y/n)’s vision turns fuzzy. Everything is tinged with red. She catches glimpses of the battle, but she isn’t sure if she is seeing anything clearly. There is Atlas in full battle armor, jabbing with his javelin, laughing insanely as he fights. And Artemis, a blur of silver. She has two wicked hunting knives, each as long as her arm, and she slashes wildly at the Titan, dodging and leaping with unbelievable grace. She seems to change form as she maneuvers. She is a tiger, a gazelle, a bear, a falcon. Or perhaps that was just (Y/n)’s fevered brain. Zoe shoots arrows at her father, aiming for the chinks in his armor. He roars in pain each time one finds its mark, but they affect him like bee stings. He just gets madder and keeps fighting.

Thalia and Luke go spear on sword, lighting still flashing around them. Thalia presses Luke back with the aura of her shield. Even he is not immune to it. He retreats, wincing and growing in frustration. 

"Yield!" Thalia yells. "You never could beat me, Luke."

He bares his teeth. "Well see, my old friend."

Sweat pours down (Y/n)’s face. Her hands are slippery. Her shoulders would've screamed with agony if they could. (Y/n) feels like the vertebrae in her spine are being welded together by a blowtorch.

In her daze, (Y/n) can’t place Percy’s or Annabeth’s positions. She watches, however, as Artemis advances. The goddess was fast, but the Titan’s strength is impossible. His javelin slammed into the earth where Artemis had been a split second before, and a fissure opens in the rocks. He leaps over it and keeps pursuing her. The goddess was leading him back towards (Y/n). 

Get ready, the goddess speaks in her mind. 

(Y/n) is loosing the abulity to think through the pain in her ribs. Her responce is somthing like agggghh-owwwww.

“You fight well for a girl,” Atlas laughs. “But you are no match for me.”

He feints with teh tip of his javelin and Artemis dodges. (Y/n) sees the trick coming. Atlas’s javelin sweeps around and knocks Artemis’s legs off the ground. She falls, and Atlas brings up his javelin tip for the kill. 

"No!" Zoe screams. She leaps between her father and Artemis and shoots an arrow straight into the Titan's forehead, where it lodges like a unicorn's horn. Atlas bellows in rage. He sweeps aside his daughter with the back of his hand, sending her flying into the black rocks.

(Y/n) wasnts to shout her name, or run to her friend’s aid, but she can’t speak or move. She couldn’t even see where Zoe had landed. Then Atlas turns on Artemis with a look of triumph in his face. Artemis seems to be wounded. And she doesn’t get up. 

"The first blood in a new war," Atlas gloats. And he stabs downward.

As fast as thought, Artemis grabs his javelin shaft. It hits the earth right next to her and she pulls backward, using the javelin like a lever, kicking the Titan Lord and sending him flying over her, (Y/n) sees him coming down on top of her and she realizes what would happen. (Y/n) loosened her hold on the sky, and as Atlas slams into her, she doesn’t try to hold on. (Y/n) lets herself be pushed out of the way and she rolls.

The weight of the sky drops onto Atlas’s back, almost smashing him flat until he manages to get to his kness, strugging to get out from under the crushing weight of the sky. But it is too late. 

"Noooooo!" He bellows so hard it shakes the mountain. "Not again!"

Atlas is trapped under his old burden. (Y/n) tried to stand and fell back again, dazed from pain. Her body feels like it was burning up.

Thalia backs Luke to the edge of a cliff, but still they fought on, next to the golden coffin. Thalia has tears in her eyes. Luke has a bloody slash across his chest and his pale face glistened with sweat.

He lunges at Thalia and she slams him with her shield. Luke's sword spins out of his

hands and clatters to the rocks. Thalia puts her spear point to his throat.

For a moment, there is silence. 

“Well?” Luke asks. He tries to hide it, but (Y/n) can hear the fear in his voice. 

Thalia trembles with fury.

Behind her, Annabeth comes scrambling, finally free from her bonds. Her face is bruised and streaked with dirt. "Don't kill him!"

"He's a traitor," Thalia says. "A traitor!"

In her daze, (Y/n) realizes that Artemis is no longer with her, and Percy had taken the goddess’s place at her side. The goddess had run off toward theblack rocks where Zoe had fallen.

"We'll bring Luke back," Annabeth pleads. "To Olympus. He . . . he'll be useful."

"Is that what you want, Thalia?" Luke sneers. "To go back to Olympus in triumph? To please your dad?"

Thalia hesitats, and Luke makes a desperate grab for her spear.

"No!" Annabeth shouts. But without thinking, Thalia kicks Luke away. He looses his balance, terror on his face, and then he falls.

"Luke!" Annabeth screams.

Percy helps (Y/n) as they rush to the cliff’s edge. Below them, the army from the Princess Andromeda had stopped in amazement. They are staring at Luke’s broken from from teh rocks. Despite how much (Y/n) hated him, she couldn’t stand to see it. She wants to belive the son of Hermes is still alive, but that is impossible. The fall is at least fifty feet, and he isn’t moving.

One of the giants looks up and growls, "Kill them!"

Thalia is stiff with grief, tears streaming down her cheeks. (Y/n) pulls her back as a wave of javelins sail over their heads. They run for the rocks, ignoring the curses and threats of Atlas as they pass.

"Artemis!" Percy yells.

The goddess looks up, her face almost as grief-stricken as Thalia's. Zoe lies in the goddess's arms. She is breathing. Her eyes are open. But still . . .

"The wound is poisoned," Artemis says.

"Atlas poisoned her?" Percy asks.

"No," the goddess says. "Not Atlas."

Artemis shows them the wound in Zoe’s side. (Y/n) had almost forgotten her scrape with Ladon the dragon. The bite is so much worse than Zoe had let on. (Y/n) can barely look at the wound. Zoe had charged into battle against her father with a horrible cut already sapping her strengh. 

(Y/n) feels a hand lacing through her’s. She glances over to find Annabeth standing beside her. 

“The stars,” Zoe murmurs. “I cannot see them.”

“Nectar and ambrosia,” Percy says. “Come one. We have to get her some.”

No one moves. Grief hangs in the air. Even Artemis is too shocked to stir. The demigods may have met their doom right there, but then (Y/n) hears a strang buzzing noise. 

Just as the army of monsters come over the hill, a Sopwith Camel swoops down out of the sky. 

“Get away from my daugther!” Dr. Chase calls down, and his machine guns burst to life, peppering the groud with bullet holes and startling the whole group of monsters into scattering.

“Dad?” yells Annabeth in disbelief.

“Run!” he calls back, his voice growing fainter as the biplane swoops by. 

This shakes Artemis out of her grief. She stares up at teh antique plane, which is now coming back for another strafe. 

"A brave man," Artemis says with grudging approval. "Come, We must get Zoe away from here." She raises her hunting horn to her lips, and its clear sound echoes down the valleys of Marin. Zoe's eyes are fluttering.

"Hang in there!" Percy tells her. "It'll be all right!"

The Sopwith Camel swoops down again. A few giants threw javelins, and one flew straight between the wings of the plane, but the machine guns blazed. I realized with amazement that somehow Dr. Chase must've gotten hold of celestial bronze to fashion his bullets. The first row of snake women wailed as the machine gun's volley blew them into sulfurous yellow powder.

"That's . . . my dad!" Annabeth says in amazement.

They don’t have time to admire his flying. The giants and snake women are already recovering from their surprise. Dr. Chase would be in trouble soon.

Just then, the moonlight brights, and a silver chariot appears from the sky, drawn by the most beautiful deer (Y/n) had ever seen. It lands right next to them.

"Get in," Artemis says.

Annabeth helps (Y/n) get Thalia on board, and Percy helps Artemis with Zoe. They wrap

Zoe in a blanket as Artemis pulls the reins and the chariot sped away from the mountain,

straight into the air.

"Like Santa Claus's sleigh," (Y/n) murmurs, still dazed with pain.

Artemis takes time to look back at her. "Indeed, young half-blood. And where do you think that legend came from?"

Seeing them safely away, Dr. Chase turns his biplane and follows like an honor guard. It must have been one of the strangest sights ever, even for the Bay Area: a silver flying chariot pulled by deer, escorted by a Sopwith Camel.

Behind them, the army of Kronos roars in anger as they gather on the summit of Mount Tamalpais, but the loudest sound is the voice of Atlas, bellowing curses against the gods as he struggles under the weight of the sky.

. . . 

Annabeth and (Y/n) fly along side by side on the back of the pegasai. 

“Your dad seems cool,” (Y/n) tells Annabeth. 

It was too dark to see her girlfriend’s expression. She looks back, though California is far behind them now. 

“I guess so,” Annabeth replies. “We’ve been arguing for so many years.”

“Mhmm,” (Y/n) hums. “You mentioned that.”

“You think I was lying about that?” It sounds like a challenge to (Y/n), but a pretty half-hearted one, like she is asking it of herself.

"I didn't say you were lying. It's just . . . he seems okay. Your stepmom, too. Maybe they've, uh, gotten cooler since you saw them last."

She hesitates. "They're still in San Francisco, Percy. I can't live so far from camp."

(Y/n) doesn’t want to ask her next question. She is scared to know the answer. But I asks it anyway. "So what are you going to do now?"

They fly over a town, an island of lights in the middle of the dark. It whisks by so fast they might've been in an airplane.

"I don't know," she admits. "But thank you for rescuing me."

"Hey, you’re my girlfriend. I would go through Tartarus to rescue you."

"You didn't believe I was dead?"

"Never."

She hesitates. "Neither is Luke, you know. I mean . . . he isn't dead."

(Y/n) stares at her. She doesn’t know if Annabeth is cracking under the stress or what. "Annabeth, that fall was pretty bad. There's no way —"

"He isn't dead," she insistas. "I know it. The same way you knew about me."

Word Count: 5630 Words

[fairyhaos]

seventeen and which mythical beings they are

requested by @mesanthropi ^^ physically held myself back from going on rants for shua's and hao's and jeonghan's pls (iykyk)

masterlist

seungcheol

vampire. formidable, mysterious vampire seungcheol from a powerful family name who lives in a huge, ominous castle and somehow manages to make sucking blood look sexy… shakes he's so fine oh my god. honestly vampire!cheol with glowing red eyes and an intimidating presence and the most smug fucking smirk in the world is such a vibe, and he also has the whole “i was born centuries and centuries ago” old hag thing down to an art

jeonghan

siren. specifically a mermaid-type siren that lives in the sea and has a pretty iridescent tail. water-dwelling being jeonghan just makes so much sense to me bc he has their fluidity and their peaceful and their mischief and also??? jeonghan with a shimmery mermaid tail and captivating siren voice???? i'd willingly drown myself for him actually, siren song be damned. he has the silvery voice of a siren and the ethereal looks to be one fr

joshua

wood nymph. bambi-eyed wood nymph joshua who communicates with the birds and tends to his forest and has flowers weaved in his hair and stars embedded around his eyes… the nymph!joshua obsession is Real guys and i am definitely a victim of it. curly haired joshua is just sooo wood nymph coded and i can see him as some soft-spoken, pretty being who lives in a birch tree and guides stray travellers when they get lost in his woods

junhui

witch junhui with his black cat familiar and his dented cauldron and his cottage in the middle of the forest!! witch junhui with his mini apothecary and his goofy-sounding spells and his eyebrow permanently half-singed bc his enchantments keep backfiring!! witch junhui with his soft spoken words and bright laugh and total kindness to everyone who happens upon his home!! witch junhui is so so dear to me and he really is just. a witchy little dude

hoshi

shapeshifter. does this idea feed into his furry agenda a bit too much? yeah, it kinda does, but oh my god just imagine tiger shapeshifter hoshi who's part human but can turn into a large, big-fanged and bold-striped tiger at a moment's notice. he really just genuinely gives shapeshifter vibes, and every year he schedules one week where he'll traipse off into the nearest mountains and blow off some steam in his tiger form for seven days

wonwoo

dragon. okay so this is kinda not a humanoid mythical being, but wonwoo is soooo big friendly dragon coded. i can imagine him as a large, red scaly dragon, snoozing atop his massive hoard of gold in a secluded cave in the forest, little wisps of smoke coming out of his nostrils as he snores contentedly. that doesn't mean he can't be scary if he wants to tho, and can burn down any puny humans who try to steal his hoard in the blink of an eye

woozi

demigod. part-god woozi is just such a vibe okay, and he rlly does give off a hercules-type feel, where he can do inhuman things and seems almost untouchable in his awesomeness, even though he's right there in front of you. and he has a hatred of the gods and a mild tolerance for humans but at the end of the day, he appreciates and loves both for all that they do. (also in a percy jackson demigod sense, he is totally an apollo's kid and no i don't make the rules) 

minghao

fae. y'all know how far my fairy minghao agenda runs by now and like ??? can you blame me ???? the idea of sassy smol hao with fairy wings and a squeaky voice is cute and all, but also i just think he fits the idea of the entire tall, mysterious fae folk really well too. with his pointy fae ears and his shrewd gaze and his ability to say half-truths and riddles and give sage advice about how to live your life all at once, he really is very much a fae-like person. 

mingyu

some sort of demon. he's so loud and bright and kind that, despite his huge presence and glowing eyes and the horns protruding out of his mess of fluffy hair, you don't even register that he's some dangerous, hellish creature before something happens and he just snaps, the air around him visibly darkening as he tears after the thing that caused him to lose control. he's so sweet and kind but so undeniably dangerous all at once. 

dokyeom

elf. i'm thinking lord of the rings elves, except i haven't actually watched lord of the rings but i have this idea of them being tall and rich and elegant beings, and it makes me think of dokyeom. he's just so pretty, and the elves rely on the natural elements to survive, right? dokyeom is just so sunbeams peeking through forest leaves, so little rabbits bounding through the undergrowth, so hand-whittled arrows and folk songs around a campfire and tall, tall, beautiful elves. 

seungkwan

will o’ the wisp or a sprite. he's endearing and mysterious, and once you gain his favour he's staying glued to ur shoulder for the entirety of your dangerous quest through the magical woods. he's very chatty and also very elusive, constantly flitting around in the air and disappearing in a wink of light before appearing on your nose once again. you can't tell if he's a help or a hindrance, but he's cute and bright and makes the journey a lot better

vernon

a smurf. smurfs count as mythical beings okay, and while ive never actually watched any smurf movie thing ever, i think vernon would make an absolutely brilliant smurf. they give off silly goofy weird adorable vibes, and that's basically vernon in a nutshell. also smol vernon with blue skin and lives in a mushroom looking house??? that's kinda cute and actually something that vernon might wanna do irl not gonna lie

chan

nine-tailed fox. he's so mysterious and sexy and kind of dangerous but like. his unbelievable handsomeness kinda outweighs the danger. honestly i don't really have an explanation for this other than that the Vibes r there for some reason and he'd look so cool with those glittery wisps of magic threading through the air around him as his eyes glow a mysterious colour before he launches into a kdrama-esque fight sequence against the latest monster

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[rebel-at-heart713]

Some of my favorite quotes from “Percy Jackson and the Chalice of the Gods.

1. “Look, I didn't want to be a high school senior. I was hoping my dad could write me a note:

Dear Whoever,

Please excuse Percy Jackson from school forever and just give him the diploma.

Thanks, Poseidon”

Already starting off strong I see.

2. “ My second thought was: Why do the gods keep losing their magic items? It was like a job requitement for them:

1) become a god, 2) get a cool magic thing, 3) lose it,

4) ask a demigod to find it. Maybe they just enjoyed doing it, the way cats like knocking things off tables.”

Percy still has his snark I see.

3. “I am a guy of limited talents. If I can't kill it with water, a sword, or sarcasm, I am basically defenseles. I come preloaded with sarcasm. The pen-sword is always in my pocket. Now I had access to water, so I was as prepared as I could ever be.”

See even he knows his sarcasm is a weapon.

4. “A shiver ran across my shoulders. The last thing the world needed was boomers aging backward, like, We enjoyed monopolizing the planet so much the first time, we're going to do it again!”

Too true!!

5. “ "Do I get to say this is a terrible idea, too?" Grover asked.

"Just do your best," Annabeth said. "You're the fastest runner. You're also the only one who speaks Chicken."

"Technically Chicken isn't a distinct language," he said, "though many animal dialects sound just like Chicken…”

"Dude, just yell at them," I suggested "Do you any fowl insults?"

"This is a family amusement center!"

"Where they are trying to kill us for complaining

"Good point," Grover said. "I will insult the chickens” “

This chaotic conversation. Another for the unhinged moments like the Dam scene.

6. “I also didn't want to die, but at least if I got killed down here, Annabeth would feel really bad about pushing me. Then I could tease her about it forever.

Except I'd be dead. Never mind.”

Love that.

7. “—and also how the kite had gotten zapped by lightning (in the middle of a sunny day) as soon as it was airborne. Even back then, before I knew I was a demigod, Zeus had been watching me. Because that's what you do when you're the king of the gods. You spend your valuable time being as petty as possible, frying forbidden kids' kites out of the sky for fun.”

Of course Zeus is a petty bitch.

8. “I remembered learning about some Norse wolf named Garm, but I wasn't the Mighty Thor, so I didn't want to cross that particular Rainbow Bridge. I had enough to worry about on the Greek side.”

The nice little nod to the Magnus Chase series before he knows it’s a thing.

I added these to my notes as I read this when it came out. I wanted to give some time before posting it. I’ll still mark spoilers even though I don’t think these give much away.

[rewritingcanon]

roxanne and hugo headcanons please 🤲🏿

NYEHEHEHEHE OKAY 😋

roxanne:

perfect mix between angelina and george looks-wise. she’s got her mum’s complexion, hair, eye colour, naturally straight teeth and crazy metabolism, but her smile is her dad’s, her eye shape is her dad’s, her hands are long and spindly like her dad’s, and she flaps them around constantly when she’s being dramatic and talking. she also laughs like him. but funnily enough shes shorter than both her parents and she has no idea why.

people think fred and james are the new pranksters because of their namesakes but dont let this fool you. roxanne claims title over this

no for real she is a menace and she is more fred weasley than her brother. which sometimes pisses him off but you can rarely stay mad at her even if she is a shit.

great quidditch player. is a beater. daydreams about hitting her opps with her bat during history of magic class as a preventative from falling asleep

hoards fake tattoos. LOVES THEM. like she’ll never get a real tattoo, but she loves the fake ones

laughs at men who confess their love to her but takes the women who confess to her seriously (she’s not into girls she just respects them more)

pranks her dad the most. then her dad pranks her. fred and angelina… run for cover…

had a situationship with some transfer from durmstrang and literally never lived it down from fred

only got close with rose at hogwarts. shes a year younger than rose and she’s shocked to find out she’s secretly likeable

her favourite uncle is percy— yeah you would never guess. but she loves hanging with people who act like they have a small stick up their butt— it’s more rewarding when she wrangles a laugh out of them. plus percy spoils her the most and she has a sneaking suspicion she is secretly is favourite niece.

people pay her to prank their opps. shes like a clown hitman.

exercised for like a week and got abs from it. everyone is upset. also. is a gym bro. probably the master herder of all the gym bros.

made a secret trolls account to troll people. thought she was so smart for mashing the two concepts together.

ate playdough when she was a kid and was disappointed with how it tasted.

master jinxer. for real, cover your ankles if you’re an opp

opps in general tremble

never fought much with her parents, which is really fucking strange. maybe its because fred fought with angelina and george a lot so roxanne sought unconsciously to balance that out, but she just never thought anything was that serious enough to fight over

but she DOES have fights with fred. sometimes they scrap in the middle of the common room and the reason will be because she chucked a piece of paper at him or something. then two seconds later after she’s got bruises up her legs and he’s literally got a black eye, they’re showing each other their memes.

she’s extremely close with both parents but her best friend is literally her mum and when she gets a letter from her mum at dinner at hogwarts she’ll shamelessly start celebrating and cheering.

“look guys my mummy replied to me!!” “didnt she literally write to you yesterday?”

had pink hair for a moment in time in fifth year and pretended it was on purpose (she meant for it to be red whoops)

hugo:

looks a lot like ron except has his mums bushy brown hair (because thats canon… i know.. crazy…). very freckley and has a deeper complexion but not like his mum’s (yea hes lightskin 💪). built short like his mum though, and rose makes fun of him until he wakes up randomly one morning and hes 6ft.

personality wise hes a mix between his parents. hes a lot like ron in the sense that hes made of dry humour and loyalty to his friends, but like hermione in that he gets exasperated easily and also possesses undying loyalty. now that i think about it, hugo is just extremely loyal

definition of little freak. you know how as the line of cousins gets younger and younger and the youngest of them all is always just a weirdo? yeah, hugo is the youngest.

has a butt indentation on his bed from sitting on it and playing roblox all day. wont move from bed until he gets banned on the servers and is forced to touch grass

but when he touches grass he is all for the grass. rose has his ass on life360 and suddenly hes taken a train up to bumfuck nowhere to go on a spontaneous nature hike. suddenly he’s signed up to a chess club and queen gambits his way to the top spot. suddenly hes in a random protest and he doesnt even know what hes there for he just likes the energy

is called “snotty rat boy” in rose’s contacts

basically is a punching bag for all older siblings but is numb to the abuse and just accepts it (its all well-meaning and full of love)

is aroace but LOVES valentines. he goes all out to get cards for all his friends and family and makes them little trinkets (he can’t buy them anything bcuz hes a broke baby and has too much pride to ask his mum for money only to get her something thats worth less) and plans platonic dates and gets very offended when they have to cancel to spend time with their actual romantic partners. he once rang his mate up to ask for a refund for his time (he was joking but hugo is dramatic as hell and needs to feel loved at all times or else he will literally die)

is the main character of a cartoon network show. i just dont know what..

ipad kid vibes

cant cook anything but really good homemade pizza for some strange reason???

confirmed he was aroace when he was playing truth or dare with his gryffindor buddies (because hugo is definitely a gryffindor) late at night and got dared to french kiss some guy. after he had to flee the scene and brush his teeth out to get that gross taste away, and yeah, he had his suspicions beforehand but this basically confirmed it. and every time he recalls the feeling of kissing someone like That he gets this thousand yard stare on him… one would think hes having war flashbacks….

despite not wanting to get married like That, he wants to be a dad when hes older. He has a list of baby names on his notes app (or wizard equivalent), but they’re all shitty things you would name an oc or a sim, not a real person. shit like “ebony” or “crystal” or “axel.” he showed his list to lily luna once and she laughed and called them stripper names so he got mad and kept it very secretive from then on.

genius chess player. wizard beth harmon who?

is a vegan. it started as a joint pack with hermione (ron and rose said “fuck no”) but hermione caved after six months because she cant stay away from coffee. hugo persisted though

is the only one allowed to ruthlessly rip into and bully the shit out of rose. im not kidding, her parents cant even do it. theyre too scared. meanwhile hugo will walk past her in the hallway and say “oh you look uggo today” with a deadass straight face

thinks about moving out one day and having his own family and thinks about rose moving out and having her own family and how that family will be her primary family and he will be secondary family and how they will have to leave their parents one day— he instantly breaks down into tears. hes just a baby bird guyz plz!!!

does not have any parent hes closer to. ron spoils him more but also scolds him more. hermione rewards him less but lets him get away with more. it balances out.

very close with lily luna so when rose and albus had their falling out they just gossiped about it the entire time. lily would tell him how albus cried for three hours straight during lunch and hugo would tell her how rose started to fixate on their shower and started deep cleaning it the muggle way at four in the morning like she was possessed

is james’ godbrother but keeps forgetting it 💀

not bad at quidditch but never took a huge liking to it. likes watching more than playing and just agrees with whatever his dad’s opinions are on the teams (indoctrination)

able to cast a patronus before rose learned which had her tweak out a lot.

ive written tonnes…. so i will leave it there lol

[11queensupreme11]

Silly cute AU Idea Percy using Loki's cloak runs off to the mortal realm I'm thinking Nebraska, South Dakota, Wyoming, or on the other side of the world Kazakhstan [not really the other side but you get what I'm trying to say hopefully]. And she just does her darndest to blend in and avoid the yanderes. She's successful until one day when she's in her late thirties early forties when she can't refuse a work trip to the ocean or something else plot convenient. More props if it's post her falling in love and baring child. Or they find her because she falls in love, bares children, and is eventually widowed. And that's how they find her one of the chthonic deities see her former husband's memories.

I swear it started out as cute old Percy in a cottagecore scenario raising kids. And it turned to middle age Percy protecting her already broken family and heart from some yandere gods. Who to them a couple decades is nothing. And you have the Angst of Posiden, Apollo, Hades, Anubus, Loki, and the Cu Guy (I can't even begin to spell his name I only know bare minium of him.) face the reality that Percy is still part mortal and will die long before they could even spend a few centuries (which are also like nothing to them) with them. I excluded Beelze because he'd just bam your a God now. That's your punishment for making me worry. [I'm under the impression he's the only one who knows how to deitify someone if that's not true... oop... I missed something. My reading comprehension skills makes me wonder If I'm the Demigod sometimes xD.]

actually, even if percy dies, she'll still go to helheim to get her soul judged and then eventually get to valhalla so they don't really have to worry about her dying........

BUT THEN YOU GOT LOKI AND BEELIE WHO KNOW SHE'S NOT FROM THEIR UNIVERSE 😬 they don't know what's gonna happen to her if she dies in their universe, will her soul just go to valhalla like everyone else's? what's gonna happen??? then there's the whole breaking soul issue (she only has two years so she'd technically already be obliterated for this AU but let's pretend she has more time lol)

not every god has the power to ascend a mortal to godhood. the supreme deities definitely can and so can beel (but that's only cuz he's just THAT powerful in my fic hehe), but the other gods don't know if it's safe to ascend her (cuz they think she's the product of an incomplete/failed ascension) only beel and loki know, and beel can turn her but she won't let that happen 💀

[nczaversnick]

Writblr/Artblr Intro

Hi!

I'm N.C. Zaversnick, which lets be real is a pen name.

If you're wondering how I came up with it it's a combination of my and my writing partner's name.

Anyway I'm the one y'all will be interacting with so this will focus mostly on me. You can, however, follow Rachelle on Instagram @panda.panduh.

I'm 22, disabled and queer as hell. I also have ADHD and autism. I use he/they pronouns and I've been writing and drawing since I was 8. I also read a great deal, mostly fantasy though I started reading more dystopians when I started seriously working on Project Gemini.

My favorite book is The False Prince by Jennifer A. Nielsen.

I'm currently reading The Devil’s Thief by Lisa Maxwell

I'm currently playing Wizard101 (Y’all I’m so done with Wallaru)

I'm currently watching How I Met Your Mother

To see pictures of my rabbit follow #michael.. or join the tag list

To join my tag lists click here and comment which list(s) yoou want to be added to

WIPs

First off: Project Gemini

Project Gemini is the name for my book series that I do intend to publish some day. We're still working on book one but currently we're planning four books total for this series.

This is a link to the Master Post, where you will find more links to specific Project Gemini information

In a very general sense, this is a YA dystopian series with queer characters of an appropriate age (about mid 20s)

I can only describe it as what you'd get if you crossed X-men with Avatar. Some members of humanity evolved to have fire/water/earth/air powers. So naturally the government oppressed them. This leads to the creation of a rebel group determined to fight for their rights or overthrow the government whichever comes first. The story follows Caspian, a water elemental guy, and his experience when he meets this group and joins their cause.

Fandomverse

So this is why I don't have 5 bajillion WIPs. I take literally every idea I've ever had and mush them all together into this story. Anything I can't fit becomes an AU using OCs from this universe.

This one is a two year long text chain between me and a friend from middle school. It is a mix of original characters and world building and whatever random fandom shit we want.

It came to be while I was deep in my Doctor Who phase and I created my very own Time Lord/The Doctor. (Canonically speaking, he is the Doctor and the TV show Doctor Who still exists but everything in the TV show is based on stories my time lord told some BBC writers while drunk). My friend had a good deal of her own universe by then and so we just mushed the two together.

The basics are what would happen if a Time Lord and a couple of reapers fell in love and had many paranormal adventures but also were parents trying to raise their kids to be knowledgeable in both the human world and the paranormal world.

For the most part, this is the universe for most of the art I share, nnot so much for writing

AUs for Fandomverse

I will eventually put links here but for now it's just a list

Arc of a Scythe

Percy Jackson

Harry Potter

[slipping-through-my-fingertips]

Hiding, Denying

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Ao3

Summary: Annabeth wants to tell their friends about the baby until she doesn't

Luckily Annabeth spends most of her days behind a desk. During the last half of her second trimester, the morning sickness begins to subside a bit. Now that she wasn’t hiding her morning sickness at work, the next hurdle was the bump. 

Since that first morning spotting it, the bump grows more and more prominent. 

She starts with lightly untucking her button downs, adding a little extra space in that tummy region. In following weeks, it’s baggier pants. Then it’s empire waist sundresses all summer long, which hang over her bump but don’t show it.

Annabeth keeps herself tucked in her office (not unusual for her) and holds most of her client meetings in house instead of on site. If her coworkers are still in the dark, there’s no way she’s revealing her pregnancy to their clients. 

Mid-July, Annabeth feels ready. 

They’ve already told Sally and Paul over their weekly Sunday dinner, Annabeth’s parents and brothers at Easter, and Estelle over mini golf and ice cream and a long winded explanation of what it means becoming an aunt. They had a short beach meeting with Posideon, though it seemed he already knew. After a few tries, Annabeth managed an Iris Message to Athena.  

They had tracked Grover down too. Found a time to catch up and have some lunch together in the middle of Central Park. If it was even possible, Grover cried more than Sally and Frederick. 

She wishes Piper and Frank and Hazel were closer. They’d love to tell them in person. Then, Annabeth realizes they can. 

“Percy,” Annabeth says one night. “I want to take a trip.” 

He peeks his head out of the bathroom. Toothbrush his mouth, he says, “when?” 

She shrugs, “next week?” 

With school out of session, it’s no problem for Percy to up and leave and Annabeth’s got plenty of PTO to burn through. She wants to save most of it for when maternity leave runs out but there’s enough that she can take a few days for a little trip. 

So, she puts in the time off request, it’s approved almost immediately, and they book some flights. (Zeus has been a slightly more lenient in allowing Percy to fly nowadays)

The perk of knowing the higher ups at Camp Jupiter means they always have a place to stay out in California. Frank even makes a point to meet them as soon as they arrive. 

“Hey guys! You made it,” he says. 

It’s been a while so they hug. There’s a moment of panic when Annabeth’s bump hits Frank’s stomach. 

Frank opens his mouth but Annabeth never lets him say anything. 

“Sorry, big lunch.” 

Percy looks at her funny. As if to say “I thought we came here to tell people?” 

Frank, bless him, doesn’t say anything as he walks them to their weekend apartment. 

“We’ll see you later Frank,” Annabeth continues, pulling Percy along. 

When they’re safely inside their apartment for the weekend, Annabeth dramatically throws herself onto the sofa, sighing loudly.  

“What was that?” Percy asks. 

“Please.” 

She didn’t even know what she was pleading for. 

“If you don’t want to tell them, it’s okay with me but we’ll need a cover story because they’re all going to wonder why we’re here.” 

The thing was Annabeth did want to tell their friends. She had no idea why she couldn’t just tell Frank earlier. 

Their families had taken the news so well. She’d never seen her dad so happy. He actually cried when they told him. 

She knew their demigod family would react similarly. 

Instead of dealing with her weirdness, she reached a hand up and pulled Percy onto the sofa with her. She had to stretch more now to kiss him with her bump getting in the way but sitting down, Annabeth still held control. She straddles his lap and holds his head in place with one hand to the back of his head. Percy is so easily distracted by kissing when Annabeth pulls away he doesn’t even bother asking more questions as she trails her lips down his neck.   

“Bed?” She asks. 

Percy picks her up and carries her to the bedroom. 

He breaks their kiss when he deposits her on the edge of the bed, “you’re not getting out of this conversation with sex.” 

“Can’t we pause it to have sex first?” 

He answers with a furious kiss to her collarbone. 

An hour later finds them back on the sofa. Decidedly not making out. 

Annabeth’s changed into a sundress, something she’s sure Piper will comment on at dinner tonight. She rarely wore dresses. But it hides her bump better than shorts. 

“We have 20 minutes before we need to be there, let’s chat.” 

She doesn’t want to meet his eyes but she does. It’s Percy. Anything Annabeth says, he’ll understand. He might laugh a little but it’s never in a mean way. 

“What if they judge us?” 

Percy doesn’t laugh. His reaction is worse than laughter; it’s pitiful, it’s worrisome. 

“Annabeth,” he says, gently, “what makes you think that?” 

“We’re so young, Percy.” 

“And? We’ve known each other since we were 12. Together since we were 15. Most of our friends have only known us as a couple. This isn’t going to be a surprise for them.” 

He’s right. Of course he is. Because deep down, Annabeth knew they’re friends were going to be nothing but excited for them. 

But a few days ago allowed for doubt creep into her mind. 

In true Percy fashion, he reads her mind, “so what happened to make you think they would?” 

In true Annabeth fashion, she had kept this bottled inside letting it linger in her mind, creeping into her head when she was trying to fall asleep. When she knew if she let Percy in, share the burden, she’d be past this feeling already. 

“How are we supposed to be good parents? I’ve been royally screwed up by mine. Sure, my dad’s better than he was but my childhood…well what childhood did I really get?” 

“I think my mom did the best she could,” Percy says, avoiding the topic of his former-step father and the lack of seeing his biological dad, “and I think you were a great sibling to your cabin. Being an older sister is very similar to being a mom.” 

Annabeth smiles a little. “And you know that from all your experience as an older sister?” 

“Being an older brother taught me some things.” he shrugs. 

“This isn’t what’s bugging you though,” Percy says, “maybe it’s connected but being worried about us being good parents isn’t the same as our friends judging us for having this baby.” 

“Remember when I went to camp on Tuesday?”

“Yeah, to see Chiron about updating the Big House?”

“Well, after we were done, I went for a walk. Reminiscing…”

She had also gotten herself a larger camp shirt for the bump, which is now too large to fit in the ones she has. 

“And I passed these campers who were talking about kids and stuff. Long story short, they don’t think it’s okay for demigods to be having kids young.”

“Why?” 

“I didn’t hear it all,” she replies, in truth she had gotten too upset and went to the beach to calm down. “Essentially they called it irresponsible because we’re always at risk, y’know? And being a baby into this messy world…what if we’re terrible for doing this?” 

“Annabeth, they’re teenagers, what do they know about this messy world? What do they know about us and what we’ve faced?” Percy tells her, “we’ve done some pretty dangerous stuff. I think parenthood will be a cakewalk in comparison.” 

“But what if we’re just putting this child into…”

“Nope, stop that.” Percy pulls her closer. “You’re going to be a killer mom, whether it’s literal or not. You got this. Right here,” he puts their hands on her bump, “is the luckiest baby in the world because it’s got you on their side.” 

Annabeth wipes away her tears. He’s right and as usual she’s heard exactly what she needed to hear. Percy has perfected that over the years. 

“Let’s go tell our friends we’re pregnant,” she tells him. 

Percy kisses her cheek and she finally feels ready to let the world know she’s going to be the best damn mom she can be.

[blue-asher]

Percy Weasley X Squib!Reader

Summary: when you try to buy a book by a Squib author Percy shields you from the discrimination of the bookshop owner.

Let's say that the Weasley family and the Golden Trio decided to go to Diagon Alley to buy supplies for the new school year and they invite you and your siblings (who attend Hogwarts; that's how you met them) to come along.

Their first stop was a library where they got the essentials like paper and quills. There you decided to treat the trio and bought some matching pens that had witches' hats on them. Ron was the most intrigued out of the three.

Then you go to a bookshop with the list of required books in hand. It was then that problems arrised.

Once you enter the bookshop you all part different ways to find your things: Hermione goes straight to grab the school books so as to check out the novels later, Ron and Harry go the adventure books first so as to go for the school ones later, Ginny and her mother look into the new Lockheart's novel and Mr. Weasley went to look after the twins (as instructed by his wife) but soon lost track of them.

And, although you didn't notice at first, Percy decides to look out for you (his words, what if you got lost in all the sections and ended up in a shopping spree) and see if you actually had good taste in books at all—not because he was taking notes for next birthday presents, of course. He also didn't want to leave you alone. The rest of the lot had actual things to do in there and went straight to crossing names from their lists. All of them walked in different directions with confidence, like men on a mission. So he was fairly surprised when you did as well. He wanted to know what you were up to.

He considered going up to you and ask you what you thought about the bookshop after 15 minutes of just watching how you read the tilted of a couple books in sale. Until he saw you grab, rather excited, a particular book. Then the bookseller appeared.

"Good evening, young lady! I'm sorry to bother you but I couldn't help but notice that you picked up a particular book" the bookseller said anxiously "Memories of a forgotten kind. I hope it struck your interest, of course! but I must insist you buy it nonetheless" Y/N was quite shocked at the sudden approach and rambling of the man but she was just about to ask for more information about the magnificent book so she was glad the man came just in time.

The book in question is an elegant hard cover edition with beautiful art work in the front about philosophy. It was from a squib author that discussed the problems with Squib identity and how they perceived themselves in a world that seemed to want to label them one way or the other, essencially robbing them of the core of their existance: the middle. The author also included some biographical aspects in it to help make a point of his stand. You, being the same as him, were very excited to have found it as not only it spoke about an issue that had revolved around your self-confidence all your life (you had to admit you were just a tiny bit jealous of your siblings' magic) but because it was also a rare occurrence to find a squib author in general. Sadly, they rarely got published.

"You see, I've been having a real hard time to sell them. No one wants them—nobody could ever want them, really." His sudden statement quickly pulled you out of your thoughts as you were thinking about what to ask him first. You had just decided to ask whether the guy had written other books when he screamed that first statement.

"I shouldn't have made a deal with the man. I tried to diversify my collection, you know, my partner told me to. But I told him it was a bad idea, he just wouldn't listen" he continued rapidly ". I know everyone wants to say we are in modern times but business are business. You get me"

It was as if he was trying to excuse himself for even having the books in the shop; he didn't even stop to breath. You got concerned. Why was it difficult to sell? Had the writer been in some sort of scandal? Was the information in the book no longer valid? You didn't remember if you looked at the year of publishing but the book seemed brand new. Why was it in sale? It seemed like half the price a book so pretty.

"You don't seem too convinced. That's all right, I understand" you tried to pich in and tell him that he didn't understand at all because not even you understood what he was talking about. But he kept going "I'll make you a deal, just for you. You seemed like a lady of culture. How much is it? 400 sickles? I'll leave it to 300, what do you say?"

'I'll be damned' you thought. Shouldn't it be the other way around? What would he even gain from that amount? You finally got a moment to ask:

"I'm confused, It's such a beautiful edition with great quality, why is it so cheap? Did the author do something?"

You waited for his answer.

The bookseller looked at you like you just grew an extra head but quickly changed his expression to one of realisation "My apologies, ma'am. You mustn't have notice, how silly of me!" He spoke as if the fact was obvious but you still didn't understand. He composed himself and in a more calmer manner said "The author's a squib"

That's all he said.

And Percy thought he had already said enough.

You were stil expecting to hear something more, an aclaration, because clearly it didn't seem like a logical reason. What does that have to do with anything? You didn't have time to say anything else as Percy suddenly appeared beside you and put his hand on your shoulder. You looked at him but his gazed was fixed from above into the bookseller's eyes.

"I think we have heard enough desperate rambling from you. No wonder you can't sell a book for the life of it." His tone was cold and it shocked you greatly. You hadn't seen Percy this angry before, you hadn't ever heard him insult another adult like that.

The bookseller went off pretty angry and told the both of you to not bother coming back if you weren't going to buy a proper book. You were pretty sure you heard him say something about you only looking into the Sale section, most likely an insult.

However, you thought it had all went down hill unnecessarily and were about to question Percy's sudden change of attitude but when you turned you noticed that he was already looking at you. With a sad warmness in his gaze.

"He meant the writer, Y/N"

You stared at him for a few seconds and blinked "What?"

"He meant that the books didn't sell because the writer's a squib"

You felt embarrassed because of how long it took you to pick up on the que. Angry embarrassed. You had just made a fool of yourself, in front of Percy! Just when you thought you had dominated that kind of anti-squib talking.

In the end everyone left without buying a single textbook from the place, not wanting to support such a prick. But not before your siblings gave the bookseller a piece of their mind and spoke every insult the could come up with.

You insisted to the Weasleys that they didn't have to leave: they needed the books and the other bookshop was a good 20 minutes away. Hermione gave a nasty look to anyone who seemed tempted on the idea of buying the books and get the shopping over with. 'Anyone' being Ron -but just for a quick second.

Quickly you started making jokes about how you should have bought it either way because "Where else will I find a book so amazingly cheap? No, Y/N! You mustn't succumb to capitalism!! You have to support the writers" Your antics successfully made the trio and twins laugh and it was only then, when you wanted to raise your fist at the sky in a dramatic way, that you noticed that Percy had been holding your hand. Probably had since you left the bookshop. When you looked at him he sheepishly let go while giving you a shy smile.

You wished he hadn't.

A couple of days later you family had the Weasleys over for a farewell dinner since everyone left the following day for Hogwarts.

Just when everyone had left and you were making yourself comfortable in your room, you noticed a wrapped package in your bed. A gift that was not there before. It was very clearly a book but it didn't have any note as to who might have left it. Did the Weasleys leave a gift for you? You didn't see anyone entering your room.

Dying with curiosity, you opened to see what it was and find a clue of who your mystery friend might be.

It was the philosophy book you had tried to buy a few days ago! You were admiring it with delight when you noticed something falling from the inside of it.

A piece of paper had fallen, it was receipt! From a library you didn't know and where it stated that the book had been purchased at a price much suitable for its quality; probably the original price that the bookseller had tried reducing to nothingness the other day.

But there was something else written at the back of the receipt, something in handwriting.

"Proof that I've bought it at full price.

Found a new bookshop with a section dedicated to squib writers, mind if we explore it together some time?"

You would recognize that handwriting anywhere, and would make sure to send Percy a package of his favourite chocolates with your next letter.

[let-tyrants-fear]

Percy Jackson Careers

I'm tired of everyone writing Percy as a marine biologist, so I've compiled a list of jobs he would actually have as an adult.

Teacher. Specifically a middle school Latin teacher, modeled after his year in Chiron/Mr. Brunner’s class. Maybe he just does it because he likes kids and likes teaching, maybe he works as like a long-term sub to get into schools where they think there are half-bloods. I don’t know, but I could totally see him as a teacher in some capacity, and I think he would work really hard to make sure that none of his students feel the way he did in school.

Underwater archaeologist. This is a real thing. There are a lot of shipwrecks that are accessible and provide valuable resources, as well as a lot of ancient sites that are now underwater as a result of shifting coastlines and changes in sea level. @phykios has a great post about Percy as an underwater archaeologist here.

Plumber. Because he is after all Supreme Lord of the Bathroom.

Electrician. Because he loves to mess with the gods. He becomes an electrician as a 'fuck you' gesture to Zeus.

Demigod Union Rep. I know we all joke about how Percy ‘pay your damn child support’ Jackson essentially appointed himself as the demigod union rep at the end of The Last Olympian, but what if they made that official? He takes a class on Ancient & Immortal Laws in college, and now demigods call him in whenever they’re having issues with a god. They all pay “union dues” so he can collect a salary of sorts.

Aquarium worker. There are several possible routes Percy could take to work in an aquarium. I've listed a few ideas below.

Presenter/Educator. Like, the guy who does the little shows for kids and shows all the school groups around. Percy is great with kids, and I think he’d have so much fun presenting, but also just interacting with kids and families visiting the aquarium.

Aquarist. This is apparently a real word for a person who takes care of fish, which my sister discovered by googling 'zookeeper but aquarium.' Anyway, Percy would be the person who cleans their tanks and sets their diets and provides enrichment, etc. Also, accredited aquariums would have a research branch to study fish and observe behavior, and Percy would be super helpful because he could just. Ask the fish.

Social media manager. He would have so much fun posting memes and fun facts on the aquarium's social media accounts, and I think his sarcasm would make him a huge hit on the internet, a la Oklahoma Department of Wildlife Conservation. Plus, I think he would spread fish gossip all over Twitter.

If you have any more, please feel free to add them!

[belphegor1982]

Scanlan with 17, if you feel so inclined ✨

(17. Tending to an injury/wound/illness from the Put That Guy in a Situation™ Ask Game/Prompt list)

*rubs hands* You know, it just so happens that I had an idea floating in my head and that I was able to use it for your prompt. Thought it might be a nice little 1,000-word story, maaaaybe 2,000, but instead have this 6,100 word behemoth! Thank you so much for the opportunity to write for these characters 💜 I'll post it on AO3 ASAP!

—

Friends in Low Places

“—og! Grog! Scanlan! Can you hear me?”

There’s a voice in Grog’s ear, piercing through the fog, and he makes an effort to shake the cobwebs because Pike almost sounds scared and she never does.

It works, and he realises a few things in rapid succession:

Pike is calling through the earring.

They were all fighting some big beast with lots of teeth and claws. Now they’re not. (At least Grog isn’t.)

They were in a cave, deep underground, and the fight happened right next to a really big drop. Presumably Grog is still in the cave, just… a lot lower.

And last, he’s covered in rocks and pebbles and dirt like a blanket, curled up on himself around something warm and small –

Oh, that’s another thing: Scanlan is alive, too. His breath is coming hard and fast against the middle of Grog’s chest, tickling the scar tissue there, and he’s clutching Grog so tight Grog can almost feel the sting of nails. (Grog likes to think he has really thick skin, so that’s saying something.)

“Guys, speak up if you’re okay – or at least alive,” comes another voice, sharper. Vex.

Grog feels Scanlan move around a little.

“I don’t know about ‘okay’,” he croaks, like the inside of his throat is coated in dust, same as Grog. His voice makes a weird echo in the earring. “But, uh, the other thing, I guess.”

Scanlan is one of those people who often uses more words than necessary. Grog doesn’t mind; that’s just how he is. Besides, Scanlan being tricky with words is a good thing more often than not.

Still, Grog unlocks one of his arms to touch his own earring and says, “We’re good.”

There’s an assortment of relieved noises in his ear. Instead of trying to make out what Vex, Vax, Percy and Keyleth are saying (that would take too long), he zeroes in on Pike’s voice. It shakes just a little still when she asks, “Do you think you can climb back up?”

Good question. Grog unfolds completely – realising in the process that he’s been wrapped around Scanlan, who also slowly lets go of him – and looks up.

And up.

Not that he can see all that well in the dark, even with the dull light of some of the weird worms Keyleth said are attracted to warm spots, but man, this cliff is high. And, unfortunately, way too steep to climb.

“I don’t think so,” says Scanlan, his head tilted real far back, and Grog remembers gnomes can see pretty well in the dark. “I can’t even see you guys.”

“Man, this is deep. How the hell are you still alive?” There’s wonder in Vax’s voice. Now that Grog thinks about it, yeah, that’s a good question.

They’ve been hired by a local mine owner to kill a monster that mangled and munched on some miners; nobody was sure what it was, other than pointy, dangerous, and probably hungry. After two days underground the S.H.I.T.s finally found the thingy – a big beast with long spikes on its tail and fangs that had to be worth a lot of gold each. Grog, who still had no idea what it was except ‘a future corpse’ (and didn’t really care), called it ‘the thingy’. Then, since it just wouldn’t die, apparently, not without trying to take all of them with it, he called it ‘that fucker’ as he hacked at it with his great axe, grinning all the while (gods, whaling on monsters is fun). And then none of that shit mattered, because it scuttled back and swept its tail behind in a wide arc, aiming for the spot Scanlan stood at a safe distance hitting it with magic (and hitting them with healing spells).

Grog completely stopped enjoying himself or wondering what the creature was called. Instinct took over. He bolted between the spikes and his friend and the giant tail knocked them both over the edge of a drop.

Neither of them died, so clearly it was the best decision.

“What happened to the thingy?” he asks as Scanlan opens his mouth to answer Vax’s question. That seems more of a pressing concern.

“Oh, it’s dead,” comes Keyleth’s voice, then some shuffling as Grog pictures her nudging something heavy with her foot. “Yup, very dead. Ew.”

“I’ll put a handful of fangs into the bag of holding,” says Vex, sounding like she’s not exactly looking forward to it, “so we can show them to Barandiaran and get paid. A couple of those spikes, too. Doesn’t look like they’re venomous, but they might be worth something. Oh, and Keyleth picked up your axe, Grog.”

“Hey, thanks, Keyleth.” Grog feels a little naked without his great axe, but at least he knows it’s in good hands and he’s gonna get it back soon.

Scanlan, who’s been looking a little put out that Grog cut him off, crosses his arms and looks vaguely upwards, in the direction Grog assumes the rest of their friends are.

“Yeah, that’s nice. What about us? How do we come up?”

“I’m not sure you can,” Percy remarks, sounding distracted, like he’s thinking hard. Just as Grog and Scanlan glance at each other in alarm, he continues, “So I guess we’ll have to go to you. Do you see a way out?”

“Hah, yeah sure, we… Wait.” Scanlan peers towards the back of the cavern which, to Grog, looks exactly like the sides of the cavern – utterly dark. “Hang on, I think we actually passed this way earlier on our way up. It’s not far from where we last set up camp to lunch-dinner-whatever.”

“Are you sure?”

If it was anyone else than Pike who asked, Grog is fairly sure Scanlan would have said something snarky; but Scanlan is funny about Pike. Even in the dark at a foot of a cliff, where she can’t see him, he beams like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Sure I’m sure! I dropped an apple core not far from here – pretty sure I can find it again if nothing ate it in the meantime.”

“Do not move,” says Vex, almost as sharp as when she demanded a sign of life from them. “Seriously. Stay put, we’re coming down to meet you. You’re closer to the way out anyway, we’ll be retracing our steps.”

“Sure you’re both okay?” Pike asks. “Not hurt?”

Grog smiles. As usual, he took some damage in the fight, scuffs and scrapes and things – he’s definitely gonna have new scars on his shoulder and his thigh – but he’s super tough and he heals fast. And apart from a few bruises of his own Scanlan doesn’t move like someone who’s injured.

They both reply in the negative. Scanlan’s answer is longer and more flowery. Pike says, “…O–kay,” a little uncertain, but it sounds more like she’s still worried rather than her usual disconcerted and/or amused response to Scanlan being Scanlan. Then, because she’s the best, she adds just for Grog, “See you soon, buddies” before the earrings go silent as they walk away and out of range.

The scratch on his thigh is smarting a little and sending tingles down his leg, so Grog makes himself comfortable on the ground while Scanlan stares up the cliff with a funny look on his face.

“That really was a hell of a drop, huh.” He looks back at Grog and smiles. “Thanks, bud. I think I would’ve looked like one of those fancy holey cheeses if you hadn’t been there.”

Grog shrugs. “I mean, it’s not a big deal.” Then, as Scanlan gets a look on his face like he disagrees and it is a big deal, “Hey, by the way, did you do somethin’? ‘Cause for a second there I thought we were gonna go splat.”

He registered sensations as they fell, other than the wind whistling in his ears and his body trying to curl into the tightest ball imaginable to protect his insides and Scanlan’s. A muffled voice against his chest, a warm tingle enveloping him, the impression that the world slowed down for a couple of heartbeats before he crashed into the ground. Either he developed powers – which he doesn’t rule out, maybe he is a secret wizard and just didn’t know it till then – or Scanlan used his own.

It’s hard to see in the mostly-dark, but he thinks Scanlan looks miffed at the ‘no big deal’ for a second before he shakes his head and grins.

“Well, yeah. I had one spell left in me and I wasn’t about to—what the hell, Grog, is that blood yours!?”

His face went from smiling to shocked in the middle of his sentence. Grog frowns and looks down.

Oh.

Yeah.

Shit.

The scratch on his leg isn’t very big, but turns out it’s a lot deeper than he thought. One of the thingy’s tail spikes must have gone deep into the meat of his thigh. It doesn’t hurt more than the kind of injury that takes care of itself with a bit of rest, so Grog honestly hasn’t noticed till now, but it’s bleeding steadily, probably has been since their fall. There would be a little puddle of blood on the ground under his knee if rivulets weren’t slowly trickling down the slow incline and around the bigger pebbles. The back of his trouser leg is warm and sticky almost down to the top of his boot.

“Huh,” says Grog, blinking down. At least that explains the pins and needles in his leg. “That’s, uh. Not. Good?”

“Not good, sure, let’s go with that.” Scanlan hurries closer and starts rummaging around Grog’s belt and trousers. Good thing Grog isn’t ticklish.

“Lookin’ for something?”

“Yeah, the bag – where is it?”

“I don’t have the bag,” says Grog, who doesn’t like that Scanlan’s usual grin disappeared. Scanlan’s always smiling. “I gave it to Keyleth, and she gave it to Percy.”

“Gave it to… Why?”

“He wanted to keep working on a ‘project’ bigger than his pepperbox. Said he needed the bag to keep the parts.”

“Okay, but you don’t happen to have a healing potion on you, do you?”

“Nah, they’re all in the bag. That’s also why I gave it to Keyleth: you lot need those potions way more than me.”

Scanlan stops frisking him and stares up at him.

“I guess, but what happens when you need one and you don’t have any on hand?”

“Then Pike heals me, gets me back up. Or Keyleth, or Vex, or you. I mean, you have magic, right?”

“Sorry, big guy,” Scanlan says slowly, “I’m beat. I don’t have anything useful left – most I can do right now is try to send a message thirty feet away or hurt somebody’s feelings, and neither works on rocks.” He searches his own pockets and adds with a grimace, “Damn, I don’t even have the fun stuff on me.”

“What fun stuff?”

“Just straps and ribbons and things.” Grog blinks; Scanlan shrugs. “You never know when you’re gonna meet somebody who’s down with a bit of bondage. But they’re all in my pack, and I put my pack in the bag of holding –”

“Why’d you do that?”

“Because it was heavy and I wanted to move quickly in case we found the thingy, or the other way around!”

That’s… a good reason, Grog muses. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that not everyone has his muscles and endurance.

Scanlan stands there for a second, his hands in his pockets, slouching slightly. He bites his lip, looks at Grog’s leg, and shrugs off the leather vest he uses as armour. Then he starts to undo the few buttons on his shirt that aren’t already undone.

“Uhh,” says Grog, baffled, “what are you doing?”

“What does it look like? I’m stripping.”

“Okay, but why? Oh, you mean you wanna, like, bang?”

Grog knows Scanlan likes having sex, a lot. Which is fair; so does Grog. Having sex is awesome. But this is Scanlan, his second best little buddy, the guy who never balks at going with him to houses of lady favours, one of the very few people he knows who never talk down to him or treat him like he’s too stupid to understand things. Grog loves him a lot, and the thought of having sex with people he loves is too weird to contemplate.

Also, while a few girls Grog had the best kind of naked fun with had dicks, he’s never been with a dude, and he has a feeling it’d be kinda weird, too.

So he sits up straighter and tries to recall the words Pike taught him in case someone was interested in him and he wasn’t.

“’Cause if you do, I am sorry,” he says, sounding out each word carefully, “you are a great person and I respect you very much, but I am not attracted to you like that.”

He must have got it right on the first try, because Scanlan chuckles as he takes off his shirt.

“You don’t know what you’re missing, buddy. Don’t worry, though, I will do my best to live with the sting of rejection.”

He eyes his shirt, then Grog’s thigh, and makes a whole-body eh gesture before walking right up to Grog. “No, my big, incredibly sexy goliath friend, I’m not trying to woo you. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’d totally be DTF if, you know, you were interested and I’d get to not be dead by the time we’re done, but that’s not why you’re getting a strip tease.”

“So?” asks Grog, still puzzled. It was warm in the part of the cave where they fought the thingy; Keyleth said it’s because of some gas that makes it smell like walking into a fart at times. But Scanlan usually gets cold way before he does. Why did he take off his clothes?

“So, while we’re waiting for the others to waltz back in and save the day…” Scanlan stops, cocks his head to the side. “By which I mostly mean Pike. She’s amazing like that. Hopefully she still has energy for some spells left – but failing that, a bag full of healing potions works, too. Anyway,” he adds, crouching in front of Grog and trying to wedge the shirt under his thigh as gingerly as he can, “while we’re waiting, you’re getting a bandage so you don’t bleed to death. Or rather the funny word Vex said that time, way back, before Pike came into the picture… You know, the thing she tied around Vax’s arm when he got stabbed bad… What was it – sounded kinky, like pourniquey, or… Tourniquet! That’s it!”

The triumphant grin turns into a grimace when he has to pull on his shirt with all his might to fasten it properly. He’s so small there’s almost not enough material to tie a really tight knot, even when Grog gives him a hand and pulls on the sleeves as hard as he dares. So Grog also keeps his right hand firmly on the wound, half at Scanlan’s insistence and half because of a dim memory from when he was really young, of seeing a fellow member of the Herd clutching a gushing wound to keep the blood inside while other people ran for a healer. His father made him watch so he’d toughen out. Grog guesses it worked.

When they’re done, Scanlan takes a step back and a satisfied look at his handiwork with his fists on his hips.

“There you go. Deluxe bandage. I’ll be taking that shirt back when you’re done with it, though. That’s imported silk from Marquet.”

Grog watches the blood slowly seep into the fabric, dark on white, and frowns.

“Scanlan?”

“Yes, bud.”

“Do you really think I’ll bleed to death? ‘Cause that would be a shitty way to go.”

Scanlan’s eyebrows go up, his smile goes down. He goes to sit on Grog’s left and elbows him in the side.

“What? No, Grog, come on. You’ll probably go out fighting dragons and hydras, only you’ll be so old by then people will wonder How the hell is he still alive and still so awesome? Also, who is that extremely handsome gnome bard who seems so chummy with him? Do you think they’re single? Unless you’d prefer to die peacefully in your bed, surrounded by your kids and grandkids. That might not be so bad, either.”

“Pssh, are you kidding me?” Grog scoffs. “That last one sounds lame. I prefer the other one, it’s badass. Plus I’m a dude, so it’s not like I can have kids, right?”

Scanlan scrunches up his face.

“I mean. You don’t get to, you know, grow them inside you, but you do get to help make ‘em if you want some. As far as I know that’s the fun part anyway.”

Then, as Grog nods and does his best to look knowledgeable, he gives him a funny look.

“Grog.”

“Yes?”

“You… do know how kids happen, right?”

“Obviously,” says Grog, who has little to no idea, but who’d rather get stabbed by a thingy again rather than admit it.

Scanlan shuffles forward to perch himself on Grog’s good leg, just before his knee, and squints up at him.

“Okay. Spill. Where do you think babies come from?”

“’That a trick question?” Grog scratches the back of his head and tries to dredge up relevant memories. The topic’s never been of much interest to him. “Well, sometimes ladies get big, so they go to the healer’s tent and, well, they make the babies, I guess.”

About a year after he came to live with the Trickfoots, Pop-Pop Wilhand tried to explain what that entailed exactly. His explanation was long, rambly, and full of embarrassed hemming and throat-clearing. He said something about a man and a woman loving each other very much, then segued into flowers and bees, and by the time he reached the tadpoles Grog had checked out completely. He listened politely, or rather waited for Wilhand to finish his speech so he could go outside and help Pike chop up wood. Wilhand did so with relief and the pleased look of someone having Done Their Duty, and Grog walked away wondering what the hell that was about.

Technically he could ask Pike about it, of course, but he won’t. Either she got the same talk and didn’t understand either, or she knows a lot more than him and he’d look like an idiot.

It’s always hard to read Scanlan at the best of times, but at least he’s not laughing at Grog, just staring at him like he’s expecting more.

“Uh-huh. Okay. But before that?”

Grog is sitting in a puddle of blood that isn’t even someone else’s, his thigh started throbbing while he wasn’t paying attention, and he hates feeling cornered like this. His patience has limits. He crosses his arms against his chest and says in a huff, “I don’t know, mate, that looked like none of my business, so I didn’t ask, okay? Nobody ever managed to explain that shit properly, anyway, so I figured it was magic. Just works and no one really knows how.”

Scanlan looks blank for a few seconds. Then he smiles widely, and to Grog’s relief it’s not the kind of smile that means he’s gonna say something snarky.

“It’s not magic, buddy – well, not that kind of magic, anyway. It’s just sex.”

“What?” asks Grog gruffly.

“People make kids by having sex.”

“You’re messin’ with me.”

“I’m not!” exclaims Scanlan, throwing up his hands in the air. “I promise!”

Grog pauses to think. “…Really?”

“Yep. That’s why I said helping make them was the fun part, not actually making them.”

He did say that. Grog thinks some more.

“So… a dude really can’t, like. Grow a baby.”

“If he has a vag and the right insides, sure he can.”

“Oh. Cool.”

“But you need at least two people to bump uglies for that. One of each set.”

Grog taps his finger against his chin. “So, uh. How’s that work?”

And Scanlan explains, matter-of-factly, with normal words and all sorts of expressive gestures, what goes where and how. It doesn’t sound all that complicated. Why so many people clam up and go red about it is just baffling.

But then something disturbing occurs to him.

“Scanlan?”

“Oi?”

“Do I help make a baby every time I visit a house of lady favours?”

“Nah,” says Scanlan confidently. “There’s potions and cantrips for that kind of stuff. These ladies are pros, they know what they’re doing.”

“And the ladies that aren’t pros?”

Scanlan looks thoughtful for all of two seconds. Then he waves the thought away. “Like I said, potions and cantrips. I’m sure it’s fine. If you don’t forget to pull out in time it’s all hunky dory.”

“Oh, good.”

Then he remembers he’s supposed to keep a hand on his thigh, to help the doohickey do its thing. After he presses his palm flat on the wound again, though, he lifts his hand again to glance at it real quick, and frowns.

There’s a lot of blood on and under his leg. More than before. His palm drips with it and some of it is seeping up on the back of his hand from between his fingers. The doohickey did slow down the flow, but Grog’s pretty sure that so much blood on the outside rather than the inside is a bad sign. So’s the tingling that started in his fingers and has been creeping up to his elbows in the last few minutes.

Nothing he or Scanlan can do anything about, though, so he doesn’t bring it up.

Scanlan is humming absently, still sitting on Grog’s good leg. He leans back and yawns, then mutters, “Where’d they go, by way of Wildemount? We didn’t take so long going up, right?”

Grog shrugs. Without the sun or the night sky it’s always hard to tell the passage of time, so he stopped trying. Maybe it’s night outside and his body knows it, hence the impression that the ground is leeching warmth from his bones.

“Gettin’ cold too, huh?” he asks with a jerk of his chin to Scanlan’s bare chest. Scanlan shakes his head.

“Gods, no. This place is more stuffy than the Nine Hells. Well, maybe not literally, it’s probably even hotter down there, but I’m not sure it smells worse. Like… farts and rotten eggs. Ugh.”

“Can’t be that warm if I’m getting cold,” Grog points out, lower than he means to. Wait, when did it get hard to speak at a normal volume?

And why are his eyelids so heavy all of a sudden?

Scanlan’s gaze whips up to his face then down to his leg so fast Grog has trouble following. He springs up and sits astride Grog’s other knee, close enough to press a hand on the wound, right next to Grog’s. His hand is so tiny that it immediately looks like he dunked it in blood.

“Shit,” he says in a tone so sober it sends a chill up Grog’s spine. With the other hand he touches his earring. “Guys, can you hear me? Pike? Pike, we need you here, fast, it’s… Ah, fuck.”

Nobody answers. They’re still out of range. Numbers are stupid and make no sense, but ‘five hundred feet’ suddenly sounds like a lot anyway.

Numbers are stupid; Grog isn’t. He doesn’t need to be able to count to weigh up the odds and see that they’re starting to look bad. Like, bad bad.

The shirt Scanlan used as a doohickey has gone almost completely red, for one. So has the hand he’s pressing into Grog’s thigh with so much force – for him – Grog actually feels the weight of it. Maybe Grog should worry more about the dark that’s creeping up on the edges of his vision, but at this point it feels like too much pointless effort.

“Hey!”

Scanlan snaps his fingers in his face, making him start awake.

“None of that, you’re not going anywhere. Come on, you just gotta wait for the others. They’ll be here soon. Guys? I’m serious, get your asses down here stat. Tell you what, I’m gonna keep talking till one of you replies. I’m going to annoy the shit out of you and you’ll hurry back here just to get me to shut up. How’s that sound?”

Still no answer. Scanlan throws his head back and lets out a string of very creative swears. If Grog wasn’t halfway gone he’d congratulate him.

Gods, it is a shitty way to go. Bleeding out in the dark after fighting a thingy he didn’t even get to kill. Fighting dragons and hydras when he’s really old would’ve been so much more badass.

Somehow, without meaning to and even without much breath left, the words must have passed his lips, because he could swear Scanlan turns pale.

“Stop it, okay? You’re not helping. Forget the thingy, you’re not dying now just because of… Godsdammit! Guys! Help! Pike!”

The last word sends a jolt throughout Grog’s body. Pike is kind and bright, fierce and strong; she loves drinking and fighting and helping people. She would get sad if he died, and the world isn’t right when Pike is sad. Scanlan gets it. He’s always trying to make her smile or laugh.

“Come on, buddy, please don’t – PIKE! Oh guys, thank gods, just – no, shut up, get the fuck over here now! Pike… Please…”

Scanlan’s voice cracks a little on the last word. Grog didn’t know it could do that.

The last thought that successfully takes shape in his brain is that maybe this isn’t such a shitty way to go, after all. He saved Scanlan from the thingy, and Scanlan saved them both from the fall; and sure, he’s not taking a big badass monster with him, but he’s dying with a good friend at his side. It would have been a bummer to die alone, in the ass crack of the world, with miles and miles of rock between him and the open sky.

Grog’s right hand goes slack and slides down from his thigh.

Scanlan makes a strangled noise.

“Grog, don’t you fucking dare—”

Everything stops.

* * *

“—og. Grog. Can you hear me?”

There’s a voice in Grog’s ears, piercing through the fog, and he makes an effort to shake the cobwebs because Pike definitely sounds scared and she never does.

…Wait. This feels weirdly familiar, like a dream he’s already had.

Time pauses, rewinds. Grog recalls a fight, a fall, a friend – yeah, that definitely happened. His right thigh aches dimly, and exhaustion is weighing his bones. That tracks. But also, he’s alive, which definitely doesn’t.

Plus there’s a wet nose that smells of bear nuzzling the side of his head.

Voices burst out (“Hey furball! Back off, let him breathe!” vs. “Trinket, darling, give him some space”), but as usual there’s only one Grog really pays attention to.

Sure enough, when he works his eyes open, Pike is crouching just in front of him, very pale but smiling, looking up at him with tears in her eyes. Her holy symbol is still glowing faintly from between her clenched fingers and her dark hair is falling out of her crown of braids.

“Hey, buddies,” she whispers. “Welcome back.”

Her voice quivers a little, but the small hand laid on his chest is perfectly steady. Maybe it’s the residual warmth of whatever spell she hit him with, maybe it’s just because he’s surprised and happy to find himself not dead after all, or maybe it’s because he just loves Pike a whole lot and he’s glad to see her – the last vestiges of cold leave him.

“Hi, Pike.” He frowns. “Did I die?”

She chuckles, and lets go of her pendant to wipe her nose on her sleeve.

“No. Well. Maybe just a little,” she says, still with that weird combo of big smile and wobbling voice. “You gave all of us a hell of a scare, you know.”

All of us?

Indeed, now Grog’s eyes focus farther than Pike in the light of a torch planted into the ground, there’s Keyleth, staring at him with wide eyes, shoulders trembling just a little; Vax, a look of naked relief on his face so stark it startles Grog; Vex, one hand gripping Trinket’s fur and the other grasping Grog’s good leg – whether to prop herself up or to physically make sure he’s indeed alive is anyone’s guess; Percy, both fists clenching and unclenching as though of their own accord, breathing much too deeply and carefully to be natural; and Scanlan, sat slumped near Grog, his face almost as white as his shirt was before he took it off. Blood coats both his hands past the wrists and his eyes are almost as shiny as Pike’s.

“Told you,” he says with a weak smile, “dragons and hydras. Not some random thingy in a cave that smells like farts and rotten eggs. Also –”

He holds up the bag of holding and fishes out a sparkling red bottle that he hands out to Grog.

“There you go, big guy. Bottoms up.”

The healing potion must be one of the really good ones. It goes through Grog like a trail of fire, energy fizzing to his fingers and down to his toes. He doesn’t usually need potions to heal, so it’s odd to feel flesh knitting itself up and blood rushing along his veins again. His limbs still feel weird, and he has a feeling he’s going to need some rest before he’s back to full health, but life and strength are flowing through him once more.

Turns out Scanlan was right: it takes more than a thingy to kill Grog Strongjaw.

Vex takes the empty bottle from him and the bag from Scanlan, who barely reacts, and asks, “Better now, darling?”

“Yep, all good,” Grog replies. It’s not really true, and he doesn’t miss a look from Pike that says she’s going to keep an eye on him no matter what, but it feels kinda true, and that’s enough for now. “So what now? I mean, we’re done here, right?”

“I suggest we find a safe place to camp before we head out,” says Percy, looking around as though he expects another thingy to leap out of the shadows. Which wouldn’t surprise Grog overmuch, really. This place sucks.

They all agree, and after Vax suggests they set up camp where they stopped earlier, pretty close from here, most of them leave to do just that.

To Grog’s relief, nobody fusses over him more. He’s not used to people worrying about him outside of Pike and Wilhand. It weirds him out. Vax slaps his arm with a smile and walks away, Trinket padding after him; Keyleth climbs back to her feet and pats his shoulder awkwardly, though her smile is warm and genuine; Percy gives him a nod before following her, his breathing normal again.

And Vex tightens the bag’s drawstrings and puts it in his hands.

“Grog,” she says. “Um. Listen.”

Grog listens.

“I know you can take a hit better than anyone else. It takes a lot to knock you down, like… a lot. And I know today was, well, an anomaly. But I was thinking… You should keep the bag. You know, full time.”

“Okay,” says Grog, who’s waiting to see where she’s going with it before deciding if it’s worth getting angry about. He loathes being coddled. But Vex also essentially said he was a tough motherfucker, so that makes up for it. “Why?”

“Because you’re not just tough. You’re the fastest of all of us, so if anyone needs a potion or something else from the bag in the heat of battle, you can just run and give it to them, right?”

Oh. Yeah. That’s a pretty good reason. Good thing he didn’t get angry.

“As long as you don’t forget to take one yourself when you need it, okay?” Vex adds in a softer tone. “Anyone can need first aid at some point, dear. Even a barbarian built like a brick shithouse.”

“Right.”

She looks at him intently some more, as though there’s a question in there he’s supposed to answer. When it becomes obvious that he’s said all he wanted to say, she rises, winks at him, and leaves him with Pike and Scanlan.

Vex’s winks are something else. More often than not she uses them at other people like she fires her arrows, so being on the receiving end of a nice one for a change is a treat.

“What’s that on your leg?” Pike asks Grog as they all stand up.

Grog is about to reply ‘just some blood’, but then he remembers Scanlan’s shirt is still tied around his thigh and that’s why Scanlan’s holding his leather vest instead of wearing it.

“I forgot,” he says, “I did get first aid. Scanlan made a doohickey, look.”

Pike does look at the doohickey. Then at Scanlan. Then back at the doohickey, Grog, and then Scanlan again.

Scanlan stuffs his hands into his pockets.

“I mean,” he says just a little uncertainly, “I was tapped out of useful spells and I think that’s how you tie a tourniquet – but then again, you know, I’m a bard, if you asked me what rhymes with ‘tourniquet’ that’d be more my speed. Like, I might say ‘turning key’ but good luck fitting that in a song and it doesn’t really match the scans—”

Without warning Pike grabs him into a hug. An actual hug, so sudden Scanlan doesn’t even have time to say anything, and so tight he lets out a little breathless ooof. He goes an interesting shade of red. Although maybe that’s just because he just got crushed against chain mail.

“Thank you,” she murmurs, very quietly but so fiercely Grog has no trouble making out the words. “Just a minute more, and I wouldn’t have… He’d… Thank you.”

Well then. If Grog still had any doubt left that he really would have died down here without his best little buddies… He’s not afraid to die, as such, especially if it’s against something really badass or to protect someone he loves (which is not that many people). But he’s fucking glad he didn’t.

Scanlan looks at Pike (or rather the back of her head, mostly), looks at Grog, and, wonder of wonders, says nothing for once – just holds her back a little awkwardly, his vest dangling from his hand.

It doesn’t last long anyway. Pike lets go of him and steps back quickly, looking a little self-conscious, like she just only noticed he’s naked from the waist up. Chest hair or jewellery probably doesn’t count. And that’s funny, because she’s never like that around Grog, who rarely wears anything except his trousers, belt, and boots. Plus, now, the doohickey, which he manages to loosen but not quite untie; the knot is really tight and the congealed blood isn’t helping. So he shrugs it off for now and picks up both gnomes, setting one on each shoulder. Pike is a little heavier than Scanlan, because of the chain mail, but as usual it’s like carrying a couple of kittens.

There. Just as things should be.

“Hey, Scanlan,” he says, walking towards the others while Pike wipes her eyes and clings to his shoulder a little tighter than she usually does, “sorry your shirt got messed up.”

“It’s okay, buddy. It was for a good cause.”

“You know,” says Pike, “I think a tourniquet works better with a stick. I could teach you.”

“Well, not many sticks underground, but I suppose if needs be I can always use my—”

“Your what, Scanlan?”

“—flute! I was gonna say ‘my flute’! I am not risking the Cube just to make a dick joke, guys, come on.”

“Hey Pike, remember when Wilhand said babies come from birds and tadpoles? Turns out he was wrong.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. They actually come from people havin’ sex. Do you thinks he knows?”

“I… You know, I think you should definitely tell him next time we see him. Sounds important.”

“Pike? This Wilhand, he’s your… great-grandfather, correct?”

“Great-great-grandfather, why?”

“Oh, nothing. Hey Grog, be a pal and pass me my pack, will you, there’s a clean shirt in there. Also, tell me someone picked up my flute?”

Turns out Vax did.

Having friends, Grog reflects before they settle down around a campfire and take a flagon of ale from the bag, is indeed pretty great.

⁂

(uuughhh I'm still meh about the last sentence (it's been kicking my arse for the past two days at least) 😭 I'm waiting to see if/when my beta is available to look this over before I post it on AO3, but I will as soon as I can 💜)

EDIT oh!! I had fun with a 5e monster/NPC stat block builder and homebrewed a thingy :D Let me know if you think it's appropriate for a level 5-ish party! (ngl, I ripped the Deadly Leap feature from the bulette ^^')

What do you think? Total shit or could actually work?