#pjo time loop

[awesome-shoes-with-wings]

So I really love Time Loops. And I have decided I'm gonna write a Time Loop fic with Percy Jackson. But first I need to finish my reread of The Last Olympian!

Current plan - Kronos has one more trick up his sleeve - send Percy through enough loops so that he gives up and lets Kronos win!

[aroaceleovaldez]

the PJO -> Voltron -> My Hero Academia pipeline is so funny to me. like yeah we all know - you were into PJO, got into VLD in ~2016 when the entire pjo fandom moved over there, and in the last two seasons you jumped to BNHA, right? right. bonus points if you were in Homestuck too. we all know how it goes.

[whispersinthedawn]

Concealed in the Coriolis Chapter 17

“It irks me,” Apollo murmured, “that I am merely one of several to mark you. But I suppose one boon more would not harm the fragile fabric of your soul.”

Percy released a shaky laugh. “Blessings harm?”

He felt a fool the moment he said it. Few were the blessings that didn’t leave your life a ravaged husk.

Apollo smiled but something about the crinkle to his eyes, the way light flashed off the golden sheen of his irises like sunlight off the windows of a vacant house, reminded Percy of a play staged by puppets animated by strings, incapable of expressing emotion by any means other than bending their bodies.

“A true blessing marks you for eternity,” Apollo said lowly. “Even the Lethe only wipes your memory of it. It would take a dip in the Styx itself to destroy the marks left by a god.”

Percy swallowed. “And a curse?” he asked tremulously. “Can you detect curses too?”

Apollo’s smile widened. “Curse. Blessing. Who can tell the difference?”

“And who put it there?” Percy insisted.

The god chuckled. “If I recognise their sign. You don’t think I go around demanding every god out there show me what a mark of their attention looks like, do you?”

Percy trembled, some inkling of a plan coalescing in the foggy marshes of the past. Some part of him still lay convinced that this was a mere illusion, just something concocted by his mind. If Apollo named gods Percy knew, naturally, that part of him would be validated.

But if Percy believed this was reality, that he and Coronis were truly suffering underneath a curse – Coronis, blessed Coronis chosen by the Fates themselves to birth Asclepius and die, whose very name was reminiscent of the crows blackened merely by witnessing her infidelity, would Coronis not carry her own blessings?

Just as Percy carried his own curse.

Would Apollo not be able to feel the markers in the soul flitting about outside her body and the soul stuffed in another’s shell and find the common denominator?

If you could detect a curse – was that not the first step to cutting it off?

“Wipe them off me!” Percy breathed out. “Whoever marked me, in blessing or curse, I don’t want it. Cut it out of my soul if needed. No one … I do not wish the marks of any other god on me.”

He’d tolerate Apollo’s blessing long enough to survive what was bound to be an excruciating soul surgery – but afterwards …

Afterwards, Percy would be free to be Percy Jackson.

Apollo’s throat bobbed as he drank in Percy’s features with a unquenchable thirst. After a moment, the god seemed to recover his composure. “You … do not understand just what you ask for,” he said huskily. “I will take it in the vein it was meant and not … not what you said,” he finished feebly.

“I know what I said,” Percy stated firmly. “And I meant it. No one but you. I don’t want it.”

Apollo flushed – a slow suffusion of gold across cheekbones glowing bright as the Sun. “We will see,” he said weakly. “For now … you should rest. You will have to arise before sunrise tomorrow if you wish to be the first to see the Pythia.”

In desperation, Percy reached up and wrapped his fingers around Apollo’s wrist.

The vein running through the god’s wrist jumped.

“Does that mean you’re leaving?” he asked, panicked. The god couldn’t leave just when Percy had found his first hint at an end to this misery.

Apollo blinked furiously. “That … do not worry. I will watch over you.”

“Watching over me is not what I want from you at all,” Percy said fervently. Where was the archetype of the mad scientist willing to dig into living tissue in search of a tumour regardless of the patient bleeding out on the table? Why couldn’t Apollo be more experimental?

Apollo licked his lip, his gaze falling towards Percy mouth.

Was that where the curse lay? Percy had swallowed the cold air of Tartarus, been almost sucked in by the vacuum of the it – it made complete sense that Chronos’s curse had flown in through Percy’s nose and mouth and now lingered in his lungs.

Apollo’s fingers tightened around Percy’s cheek, tilted it to the side, and tipped it up. Percy watched in consternation, almost going cross-eyed, as Apollo’s face grew closer and closer.

Was he going to cut out the curse with his teeth? Was that what lay in Percy’s future? A god’s teeth digging through his flesh and soul until it ripped away a part of him?

Closer.

Closer.

Soft lips brushed against his mouth and Percy froze.

Apollo sucked at his lower lip, flicked a wet tongue across the crease of Percy’s lips.

Apollo kissed Percy.

This was not what he’d meant at all.

***

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Read more on Ao3

A spotify playlist for the whole series

[reinedeslys-central]

when it's been so long since you've read a fic that you forget about it and you find it in the search tags and start reading it again

and it's great, if a little familiar, but you've read a lot of these sorts of fics bc you like this tag a lot, so you assume it's nothing

but then the deja vu starts adding up and you start to wonder

and then moments before the great big Plot Twist Reveal happens you're suddenly like ah hell this is the bloody sundial fic again isn't it

smh this has to be the fourth time yet

[friendofflowersandfrogs]

TRIO HUG TRIO HUG TRIO HUG TRIO HUG TvT

[blackcat2907]

Kronos refused to lose to a pathetic little demigod. He was the Lord of Time. No mere demigods would truly get rid of him. As a last ditch effort, Kronos used the last of his power to trap three who betrayed him in a torturous time loop. The Lord of Time laughed as he fell, defeated by Perseus Jackson and the Olympians. But Kronos never truly fails—never.

Febuwhump day eleven!

[phoenix--flying]

“Tonight’s the last possible night to attack. We arrive in New York tomorrow.” Ethan responded. “So keep an eye out.” Alabaster tightened his hand on his knife. Jackson and Beckendorf. “Let’s go check the engine room.” “What?” “The engine room, let’s go check it.” Azrael gave him a weird look. “That’s not in our patrol area.” Ethan narrowed his eye. “You’re acting weird. Are you sure you’re okay?” Alabaster looked between them. This had to be some crazy coincidence. He shook his head. “Fine, sorry. I think that nightmare messed me up.” Ethan studied him for a moment, Azrael stayed quiet, as if waiting for the others assessment. “Get your head on straight.” Ethan muttered. “Can’t have you being distracted.” Alabaster nodded, forcing a coy smirk. “Sorry, lieutenant.”

[artemx746]

Reading TLO for a fic is so frustrating because Percy goes to sleep, how long does he sleep for? Who knows? What things happen on which day? 🤷‍♀️

[ma1dita]

bedtime stories

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: bitch this was supposed to be a blurb. 2.4k

summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where night shift with him runs late, but you don't mind at all. You won’t admit a lot of things to Luke Castellan, but perhaps he knows something you don’t. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader

warnings: none, banter and fluff on a night shift

a/n: Introducing luke castellan x trouble!reader… this is just gonna be ongoing blurbs and one shots of an idea in my head (and my latest hyperfixation) reader is essentially reformed unhinged bitch now camp mom and it’s enemies to friends to lovers. Working through reading the pjo series hehe

(posted 1/16/24, beta’ed by the lovely @ttulipwritezz @mrsaluado & @lixzey thank you bunches)

—

Dragging your feet across the dirt of the forest floor, you sigh to yourself in the quiet night air. It’s gonna be another long night and with the beep on your digital watch, you blearily peer at the time and sigh. Almost 11. Swaying slightly, you whistle a familiar tune as your nimble hands straighten out the deck chairs near the firepit, pick up trash to toss into the receptacle, and turn off the lights in the dining hall. All on the way to check Cabin 7, mind you, and the Apollo kids will undoubtedly loop you into singing a song with them before you shut the lights off and close the curtains.

Gods, your dad is definitely gonna hear about this in the morning.

It’s not like Mr. D ever really cares, or listens, more focused on droning on about missing his wife and playing pinochle even when you rattle off his…your to-do list for the week to keep Camp Half-Blood running and the younger demigods in mostly one piece. Honestly, he should be grateful he has you, and even if he is, he’ll never let you hear it.

At least you’re Chiron’s favorite.

A shadow passes your field of view, and before you can rub at your sleepy eyes, strong hands pin you to the side of a tree on the dirt path you were supposed to take across camp.

Sorry, let’s correct that—you’re one of Chiron’s favorites. The other all-star camper stares at you like you’re a three-headed dog under the beam of his flashlight.

“Just me, Castellan,” you grumble, a bit winded as you blink harshly at the bright light. “Still doing checks.”

“You’re losing your touch. You making a habit of going to bed late?” Luke smirks, and it’s actually annoying how he always looks like he knows something you don’t.

“You always pin campers to trees?”

“Just the pretty ones.” His smirk turns into a sly grin that makes you roll your eyes.

“Okay loser, I’ve got cabins to check,” you drone as you push off from the tree. “6 cut into my time after staying there longer than I had to. The little ones kept asking these otherworldly philosophical questions and Annabeth just laughed at me while I tried to not pluck my eyelashes out one by one.”

Your clipboard taps lightly against your hip despite the aggression in your voice and Luke laughs much like his little sister, a burst of sunlight overflowing into the dreary and mundane. Your lips quirk upward before you can stop and remind yourself of who you’re talking to. The tall boy reaches behind him to scratch the nape of his neck and sighs, sucking at his teeth.

“You’re always doing the most, huh?”

“Who else is going to, my dad? He’s probably already out like a light.” Once, you found your dad asleep at his desk after dinner, snoring loudly instead of keeping watch. You started taking more night shifts after that.

“Well, no. You know I’m here to help you, even if you’ll never admit it.” Luke extends a hand to you so it’s easier to navigate the step back onto the dirt-trodden path, but there’s no fun in that, so you hop around him and start walking away. The sound of his footsteps fall and match yours as he follows you, both in tandem like the sound of a steady heartbeat.

“The day you catch me admitting anything about you is the day the Underworld freezes over. You should know that by now.”

“Woooooow, so I don’t get a thank you for singing the Apollo kids to sleep? You should’ve seen the look on their faces when I walked in and not you. They ended the song pretty quickly after I opened my mouth to croak out a chorus,” he says, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth and nudging your side as you both laugh.

He’s a terrible singer, to be honest. Not even the Fates would’ve expected that from someone who otherwise seems like a perfect boy. Sometimes you wonder what he’s done in a past life to have it so easy–to look like he’s been chiseled by Michelangelo, have the athletic prowess of ten Spartan soldiers, and the heart of a hero only legends could get right. He’s probably the closest thing to an actual hero here at camp. You often find yourself looking at him in hopes of finding a crack in the porcelain of his perfection, but any fault of his seems to just build up his endurance in his quest for glory.

Maybe that’s why your dad doesn’t like him, his aspirations for something greater than the camp that’s kept you safe all these years, though the multiple complaints and headaches the both of you have given him as squabbling teenagers must’ve added onto that. Sometimes, though, the way he helps ease your load prods a funny feeling you do your best not to acknowledge in your stomach. Luke walks ahead shining the flashlight onto the dark path so you both don’t trip. It’s there now, at the sight of him offering an arm for you to latch onto to hop over fallen branches.

Mental note: tell the satyrs to move that in the morning.

As you hurdle over the brambles, you let go immediately after you steady your feet, moving his hand that’s holding the flashlight back towards the path with no other words. You are your father’s daughter after all, and he knows this—stubborn and your name have the same face.

Moving further towards your destination, the light reveals a teenage couple entangled within each other’s arms at the base of a tree out there for everyone to see in the moonlight.

“Jeez, guys, alright— pack it up, wrap it up! Could’ve at least found somewhere private… It’s curfew already, if I see you two again it’s a citation.”

The boy blushes and mumbles an apology to you, scurrying back to cabin 7, and you raise an eyebrow at a sheepish son of Hermes who swears they were all in their beds when he was singing to them.

“I don’t wanna go back to my cabin, all the boys are gross…” the girl whines, cheeks flushed from embarrassment as she flutters her eyelashes at you and Luke. You sigh. What has the world come to that young demigods are entrusted to the care of two people who barely consider themselves adults?

“Well, if you’re still in 11 with this one,” you simper, blatantly pointing at Luke, “I can’t blame you. He’s gross. Come by mine tomorrow and I’ll get you privacy curtains, okay? Trust me Yvonne, you don’t think boys are all that gross if you like kissing them.”

She nods, smiling charmingly at the two of you, before brushing past Luke and winking, “See you inside!”

Your head swivels to look at Luke with a coy expression, “There’s no way she’s not an Aphrodite.”

Luke huffs as he clicks his flashlight on and off. His hands are always fidgeting, always searching for something to do. He’s more like his dad than he thinks, carrying the quieter traits of quick fingers and more obvious ones like his constant search for amusement. Talking to you consistently satiates that itch.

“Aphrodite isn’t the only god that attracts attractive people, you know.”

“Oh? Do tell, because if she’s one of you, your cabin’s gonna be extra trouble,” your mouth curves into a smile, and he thinks he likes it more when you’re trying to be mean to him like this because the back and forth between you two is a comfort Luke cherishes. The words have lost their bite over the years, and there are no more cuts and bruises besides an occasional wounded ego, but it’s still entertaining, to say the least. He can’t imagine a day without hearing the teasing lilt of your voice, always easy to prod at and always wanting to have the last word.

“My dad is the god of thieves and messengers. We’re fast, smart, charming, and also good-looking. Do the math.”

“Also apparently the ones with the biggest egos, but okay.” There it is. He shoves you and you trip over your own feet falling fast.

“Hey! Jerk.”

“Definitely a daughter of Dionysus, crazy as always, and clumsy too.” Luke’s nose crinkles at the sight of your crumpled frame.

“Your hand is like the size of my face, what the fuck was I supposed to do with that?”

A fleeting thought in the back of your mind reasons that maybe violence is the answer, but he’s still not finished making fun of you even after he helps you up.

“And vulgar! What a shocker.”

“Ugh. You better hope your dad stops populating because if there’s any more that come here and act like you? I’m quitting.”

Luke watches you gaze at the heavens, probably looking for a fuck to give and he snickers at how easily you give in nowadays. Maybe he’s the one losing his touch—usually you’d put up more of a fight to argue.

“You wouldn’t. You love this job. Camp. S’why you’re not as fun anymore, Trouble.”

A noise of agreement leaves you as you glare at him and the stupid nickname back from when you used to wreak havoc just because you could, a direct juxtaposition to the honorary position you hold today. Finally following him up the front steps of Cabin 11, Luke opens the door and beckons you in, pushing at your hip with his knuckles.

Checking this place last has become a habit with Luke helping you out, and all the kids—Hermes’, minor gods’, and unclaimed, love it when you come to stop by before lights out. They especially loved the later bedtime, but hugs and cool stories from you were a close second.

“Everyone good and ready for bed in here? Sorry it took so long guys,” you say, visually scanning the perimeter and matching faces to bunks, seeing them all settled beneath their sheets, all except for one Luke Castellan. He’s still leaning against the doorframe, breath grazing your shoulder as he hands you a copy of his log from the other cabins he kindly relieved you from.

“What, no bedtime story this time?” He says through hooded eyes, and though he won’t admit it, he adores the sound of your voice. Luke does anything he can to get your attention to hear it more. It almost has a calming effect on him, and maybe it’s the fact that your dad can cause and cure madness, anxiety, and all alike, so something in him believes you do the same, powers or not. One look from him has you sputtering out snarky remarks; different strategies, same results—works every time.

“Castellan…” He grins at the look on your face, and tiny voices pop up from around the cabin, all asking for a bedtime story. Chris even starts a chant from his top bunk, making you want to hurl your clipboard at his head. Hypnos is calling your name at this point, and you’d do anything to crawl into your own safe haven in Cabin 12, but your heartstrings pull at the sight of the little ones pouting, hoping for you to tuck them in with a blanket of comforting words and stories of something more than what these walls meagerly provide. Camp Half-Blood only keeps them safe for so long, and not a lot of them make it out of here alive. You and Luke both know that being two of the oldest at camp, and his smug expression as he settles into his bed is confirmation that you’re about to give in.

“Fine. One quick story, and then everyone goes to sleep okay? Who wants to sit on the floor with me?”

You take your place sitting on the ground next to the foot of Luke’s bunk as he lays upside down on the twin-sized mattress, peering at you through one open eye as the younger children, mostly the unclaimed ones—drag their blankets and form a circle in the middle of the room, waiting patiently for you to start enchanting them with something to occupy their tired minds. Acting— that’s the gift your father had to give you; this time you decide to tell the story of Atalanta and the golden apples, how she ran from love and it still found her in the end, and how some stories can have good endings, despite what’s often found in Greek legend.

Multiple tired eyes droop closed as you finish the story and carry the ones who’ve fallen into Hypnos’ embrace back into their bunks, tucking them in with kisses on their foreheads and it leaves you with a warm feeling that will help you brave the chill on your walk back.

Admittedly, this next part is your favorite part on nights like these. The overflowing cabin of rowdy pranksters and babbling children is as quiet as the secret you hold close to your heart, tiptoeing back towards Luke’s space and draping his blanket over his muscular frame, exhausted from another day of trying to achieve greatness. Your hand brushes a dark curl away from his forehead, fingertips ghosting his pale skin like a kiss you’d never have the guts to give. With everything you have in you, you summon thoughts of serenity and peace, hoping whatever keeps him up at night lets him rest for even a few hours. You don’t pray often, finding yourself spiting your father instead of honoring him on most days, but in the dim light of Cabin 11, you find yourself making time to do so for a pain in your ass called Luke Castellan.

Perhaps he knows something you don’t after all, the crease in his forehead relaxing as you pull your fingertips away.

“Sweet dreams, angelface.”

Mental note: Put his ass to work tomorrow for falling asleep halfway through the story.

It’ll only give him another excuse to ask you to tell it again a few nights later. You find yourself not minding that, a sliver of a smile pulling at your face as you walk towards the door and shut the lights off, a sleeping son of Hermes illuminated by the gentle shine of the moon.

You’d never admit that, though.

—

“you steady me and stir me

all at once.”

-Tanya Wright

ask to be added to luke/general taglist!

luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @nininehaaa @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun @lilacspider @theadventuresofanartist @sucker4seresin @simpforsunwoo @zanzie @starrystormwritings

[kazoosandfannypacks]

"i knew you'd never agree, and we didn't have time..." "typical. always a plan, never a good one." PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIANS (2024) A GOD BUYS US CHEESEBURGERS AHSOKA (2023) FAR, FAR AWAY

do not repost my gifs. do not download my gifs to use for other edits. if you’d like to know how to add these gifs to a post without violating tumblr’s t.o.s., or want to know how to find the clips i made these from, just shoot me a dm or an ask. i’d love to share what i know! 

image id and taglist under the cut.

a series of gifs, one column of them featuring the reunion hug from pjo and the olympians epsiode 5, the other showing the reunion hug from the ahsoka series episode 6.

the first two gifs are annabeth and sabine, respectively, both with awestruck smiles.

we then see a shot over annabeth's shoulder of percy, returned from the river, and a shot over sabine's shoulder of ezra leaning on the door of his space house.

there's a gif of percy waving and shrugging next to gif of ezra smiling and shrugging.

next we see annabeth walking towards percy, paired with sabine walking towards ezra.

we then see percy, guesturing with his hands as he makes an explanation, and ezra doing the same.

the next two gifs are annabeth hugging percy and sabine hugging ezra.

we then see close ups, in the first gif of percy's face, from confusion to a slight smile, and ezra, smiling very happily.

the last two gifs show annabeth, letting go, almost as if a little confused of what came over herself, and sabine letting go as well.

artist's notes: these edits were a nightmare to try and convert: tumblr said the clips were too small to covert to gifs, my video editor app won't let me loop gifs, and i ended up with several road bumps while using canva. eventually i got them working though!

sabezra taglist: @laughingphoenixleader @accidental-spice @kanerallels @piraterefrigerator @jedi-nurse @dootchster @lucasbridger @redroverrider @light-umbra @commander-tech @jedimandalorian @notanodinarygirl {if you’d like to be added to or removed from my Sabezra taglist, let me know!}

percabeth taglist:  { i do not currently have a percabeth taglist, but have a feeling that i may be making more percabeth gifsets/fanart/fics in the future. if you'd like to be tagged in these, let me know in the notes or tags of this post, or shoot me a dm or ask!}

[sortaawkward]

I have read the PJO series many, many, many times over my life, and so objectively I knew the ways in which Percy and Luke were two sides of the same coin- even Percy himself recognized how easy it could have been for him to have ended up in Luke's place. But, I just watched an animatic on TikTok that kind of blew the lid off of it for me. The funny thing though? After watching the video, my first thought wasn't about Percy and Luke; my first thought after it looped was wow, I never realized how paralleled the lives of May Castellan and Sally Jackson are.

It doesn't require much delving into fandom content to come across any one of the myriad posts touching on Percy's "mama's boy" title because he is one- plain and simple. However, this particular TikTok had granted the title to Luke freaking Castellan- something I had never seen, or perhaps never cognized, before. Naturally it got me thinking: how would Percy react if May's fate had happened to Sally, instead?

Sally Jackson has true-sight; it's what led to her meeting Poseidon in the first place. And much like Hermes wanting to stay around/with May- Poseidon, too, wanted to keep Sally around. He went as far as offering to build her a castle on the sea floor for her to live in so he could come visit her.

I've struggled with Luke's anger towards Hermes about May's fate for a long time. I struggled because, while I knew that some of it was simply the irrationality of human emotions and the fact that Luke was a child, I couldn't get over the fact that Luke so blatantly chose to overlook the fact that Hermes was against May's attempt to take on the Oracle's spirit. Now, however, if we look at it from the perspective of "if it were Percy and Sally" I can understand that Percy would blame his father because by simply existing and being in her life he condemned her to this fate.

Perhaps Luke did know/understand that Hermes had tried to talk May out of her plan to become the oracle. Perhaps Luke just didn't care; what if his issue was with the existence of Hermes and the rest of the gods and the simple existence of their world? If the world of the gods and demigods and CHB had never come into contact with his mother's world- if the world of Olympus had never existed at all, then May Castellan would have been totally fine.

This might be nothing, or maybe everybody has already come to this realization and I'm just arriving late to the party. May Castellan was also born with the gift of prophecy whereas Sally was not- so it's not even like an exact parallel. I had just never looked at Luke under the scope of a boy who loved his mother the same way that Percy loves Sally, and it kind of blew my mind. Anywho, if anyone reads this sorry for subjecting you to my stream-of-consciousness; I just needed a sounding board (to write it out) in order to organize my thoughts.

[xreaderbooks]

Reward | Leo Valdez

Summary: Reader has had enough to worry about without her boyfriend coming to ask her for help with a homework assignment.

based on this request

Warnings: Language, Aged-up, fluff, making out like constantly, very slight angst, readers bad at math (cuz i'm bad at math and i cant fake it for the fic)

Word Count: 1.8k

PJO/HOO Masterlist | Navi | Masterlist of Masterlists

"You want me to help you?" A quizzical look befell your face as you look up from your spot under the shaded tree. You sat by the edge of the lake, you were taking a quick break hiding from the younger campers who wanted to train with you as you were a crowd favorite with the new arrivals. You just needed a recharge, a moment away from the energy that overexerted you. "Of all people?"

Leo rolled his eyes, "Who else?"

You snorted, "Cabin 6 is that way." You pointed and nodded your head in the direction of the Goddess of Wisdom's cabin, filled with the brightest minds and much better options to help Leo with his current request.

"C'mon baby, please?" Your boyfriend pouted and lowered his chin to gain your favor with his golden brown eyes that, you were afraid to admit, made you weak. 

"But I'm tired and I want to take a nap, using my brain will probably kill me at this point." 

He knelt with outreached hands, you allowed him to hold both of your palms in his own, you should have known better. He used his strength to pull you up from the ground and brought you to his chest, his hands settled on your hips. 

Instinctively you looped your arms around his neck and rolled your head to the right, tilted perfectly for him to mold his lips to yours. And he did, pecking chaste kisses onto your lips, pleading with you to join him in Bunker 9.

"I suppose I could be persuaded," You nudged your nose against his. 

~~~

The moment you arrived inside the bunker and saw his work table, normally filled with scattered tools and mechanical pieces that were in the process of being fixed or tweaked, was now littered with papers. 

Leo's homework was divided into five different sections that had their respective piles. "By some miracle, I finished everything else, now all I'm missing is this." He reveals papers that were held behind his back.

"Math." You skim the equations on the document in your hands, nothing on this page was anything you would be able to help him with. 

The smirk on his face made you glare at him and fold your arms stubbornly, "Yup," Leo rolled two chairs over to the desk that felt like your new timeout spot. 

"Honestly, I feel like I shouldn't be subjected to torture because you decided to take courses over the summer." 

"What happened to 'you die, I die'?" He reiterated the phrase you had spoken to him as a sort of mantra during the war. Your jaw dropped at the use of them being thrown back in your face and quickly shut it close. 

"In the face of war!" You exclaimed and shrugged it off, "Just for that, you can die alone."

"I did, it wasn't my vibe," He twirled a strand of your hair, and let it fall back into place, stepping back with a hand on his hip leaning the other on the table. "Aren't you testy today?"

"It's been a day, the kids were hard to gather and once I had them riled up they wanted to learn this specific trick they've seen me do but how many times can I let them down gently and tell them they need to learn the basics- drills that they've repeated hundreds of times, that some still aren't getting and will possibly die if they get caught by a monster if they don't get-" You inhale deeply, "So what do I do? I let them learn the hard way to get it through their heads that it's not as simple as it looks and I've only managed after years of fucking practice. And you know what?"

"What?" You wanted to smack the amused smirk off of Leo's pretty face. 

"They didn't pick it up like I knew they wouldn't, now they hate me but still wanna train with me because they still want me to teach them. My body is sore, I'm tired and I hate you for making me do homework," You pout. 

He approaches you with caution, slowly caressing your cheeks in his hands, he presses his lips against yours that were currently being smushed together by his hands. It was a quick but meaningful kiss, only for him to say "I'm going to fail if I don't get this done."

"Leo!" You push him away from you. "What the hell do you mean, you're going to fail, you've been cooped up in here all summer!"

A sheepish smile and pink-dusted cheeks appear at your sudden outburst, he chuckles nervously knowing he just put the cherry on top of your already bad day. "I've been behind on a couple of assignments and I've finished most of them already, I'm mostly caught up"

"Mostly?" You were going to strangle him. You haven't spent much time together lately because of his homework. He decided to take summer classes to get ahead, and he's been busy ever since. You were constantly teaching the younger campers, and helping out around camp, whether in the infirmary or setting up activities to keep busy and you loved it but you missed your boyfriend. 

"But Nyssa had this project she'd been working on and I couldn't help it."

You rolled your eyes and sighed, you couldn't be upset with him- not completely, you understood how hard it was for Leo to stay focused on a task that wasn't something he could physically tinker with, but there had been moments where you wanted to just be with him in his presence and you stopped yourself from going to him knowing that you'd only be a distraction. 

"I promise this is the only one left," He takes your hand and leads you to sit on a chair then sits in another one next to you. 

"I'm so annoyed with you right now," You snatch the paper and look over the equations. 

An hour and a half into the 50-question work packet, you and Leo moved to the mattress lifted by wooden pallets used for shipping crates. 36 out of 50 equations were done, with work shown, Leo had barely any trouble working on it as he was naturally good with numbers you weren't sure you were needed at all. 

You solved a couple for him when he got bored and started leaving trails of kisses from your cheek to your neck and shoulder, you were sure the answer was right and took a break, though when he pulled out of his dazed and loving state he looked over it and kissed you deeply.

"What was that for?" You asked in a whisper. 

"A reward," He held your chin with his forefinger and thumb, pecking your cheek. "For helping me with my homework."

"Well, if I don't help you get this done, who will?" 

"Malcolm and I are pretty tight," Leo has a deep stare on your lips, his thumb swipes your swollen bottom lip. "You've also got eight of them wrong, Mi Amor." 

"I did nine of them," You did the math- that you weren't good at in your head, piecing together that you indeed sucked. "Why'd you ask me to help you, if you knew that I couldn't do math."

"I wanted to be around you, it's been a while since we've been alone." He toys with the bracelet he gifted you on your first anniversary, five charms for the five years you've been together since you confessed your feelings at age 17 after the war ended. You met at age 15 when Annabeth brought him to camp, and the rest is history. 

"I'm still annoyed at you, you know, just because I've let you kiss me a couple of times doesn't mean-" He cuts you off with another kiss like earlier, catching you off-guard, intense and full of feeling. You immediately kiss back, not having the willpower to not, succumb to the charms he begrudgingly has on you. 

You deepen the kiss by entangling your hands in his hair pulling his impossibly closer, it was a synchronized dance at first, the years of being used to the pattern of each other's kiss being shown in the heavy minutes of your mouths moving together in passion. It soon became heated, teeth clashing, tongues moving sloppily, mouths chasing each other after breaking apart two seconds at a time for breath. 

Leo gently laid you on your back, breaking apart to take off his shirt, the moment it slipped off you brought him down to you, he fit perfectly between your legs. You gasp at the sensation of him grinding against you. He parts his lips from yours, to which you whine softly. He licks a stripe from your neck to your jaw and sucks until he's satisfied with the way you sigh and rock your body up and clutching onto the blades on his shoulders on his back. 

He repeats licking, sucking, and kissing soft kisses as an apology for the spots he bit until you were sore.

You pull away from him and flip your bodies so that you are on top, you grab his wrists and pin them to the top of the pillows to see his reaction and wanting to be in control for a while. You gave him the same treatment and brought your body lower so that you could kiss all over his chest and back up. 

You sat up to breathe fresh air, straddling him and releasing his hands only for him to intertwine his hands with yours and play with your fingers. He bucks his hips up playfully, and you jump slightly, your eyes widen for a second, and your lips turn up in a grin. 

"You've gotten better at not... you know," You hint at the control Leo's gained with his fire powers. Heated makeouts like this were often interrupted by the smell of smoke or his skin feeling feverish. 

He lets go of your hands and places his larger hands on your hips, you ignore the butterflies that flutter in your heart and stomach at the way he rubs up your waist and hips. "My hair was steaming earlier, I was hoping you didn't notice, thankfully you didn't or this would've been awkward."

"It's not awkward when that happens Leo, it's a little funny, to be honest, part of the reason why I love you." You tell him earnestly, "Nothing's awkward with you, you're my best friend." 

"I love you," Leo responds with unwavering eyes on yours. "I'm sorry for the time we lost."

"It's okay, we were just making up for it." 

~~~

holy gods, I haven't read this series in forever 

I feel like it's a crime to admit I haven't read the new book yet, i'm rereading the series and waiting for the episodes to come out before i watch the show so im going in timeline order... just wanted to let y'all know. oh, and also i haven't fully read the trials of apollo which i know has info on where the HoO people are at in their lives that i'm not aware of...

[sovksluv]

let go a piece of your heart - ssfap installment

🪐 . pairing - twelve y/o!Luke Castellan x twelve y/o!fem! reader au

🪐 . summary - the security of your being is already considered, though you could never truly understand why

🪐 . includes - baby Luke, bad metaphors

🪐 . word count - 785

🪐 . series taglist - @sarhrts @mischiefmoons @mayaahhs

🪐 . pjo taglist - @perseus-jackass @niktwazny303

🪐 . now playing - Machinist by Japanese Breakfast

🪐 . a/n - here’s a little filler installment of my babies 🤗 (luke loves her sm and they just met it’s so cute guys)

🪐 . series masterlist

people tend to not understand what it’s like, never truly having to give up what they think means most. not to be mistaken as a sacrifice – no. instead, it’s like cutting away a piece of your heart, your body, your soul. a pain that blossoms deep inside you, always there whether it makes its eerie presence known or not. 

sometimes, it takes its time, growing stronger over the years, waiting for the moment where you’d have to give up anything and everything – a piece of you. but other times, it’s sudden. you don’t know what it is, or why it’s happening. why you? why this soon?

those who must give up their true desires immediately are considered lucky. though, is anyone who must give something up, ‘lucky?’ they might never know what it’s like to have it in their life, never have to face the gnawing, time consuming feeling of knowing that any day could be the last. 

Saturn was once a young, vibrant planet, bustling with a bright orange aura. her surroundings were lit up, entrancing people with her looped rings and unique colors. she was young then, young and naive. dependent on another; one that had reciprocated that ache she had for him.

she wasn’t a lucky one. she felt the distant feeling building up inside her, slowly poisoning her insides. it left her anxiously waiting for the inevitable. no one had heard of Saturn without her rings. what would they think if they saw her? with her rings fading, disappearing right from her grasp. 

so, she yearned for a refuge. a place where she’d have even just a second of where someone else would be there for her. that’s where she met Jupiter: a protector, striving to give her even the smallest ounce of comfort. because for her, something small is something greater than anyone could imagine.

Jupiter had rings too. had. he was once like Saturn – decorated with similar rings. unlike Saturn however, his rings were gone quicker, painless. he didn’t understand the inner battle that was being fought inside her, not having to fight in it, not like she did.

Jupiter stayed protecting Saturn, shielding her from the dangers and the threats that crave the satisfaction of her pain, her distraught. but with Jupiter there, standing in front of her, guarding her, they’d have more of a challenge. he wouldn’t let anything happen to her – couldn’t. nothing would ever get past him, not without a fight.

Saturn didn’t know that. how could she? all she’d ever known was the slow disappearance of her rings. her dim, delicate rings that she was losing her grip on. they were falling from her grasp, escaping from her and she couldn’t do anything about it.

what she didn’t know was that someone was waiting, their hands out, ready. waiting for her rings to fall, just so he could catch them. not as some act of saving, not for attention. that’s never what he intended – no, he wants to. she doesn’t know it, but he cares for her. in ways she might never truly understand. 

he would do anything for her. sacrifice anything, sacrifice anyone, all for her. so yes, he’ll wait. he’ll wait for her rings to fall, right into his hands. and when they do, he’ll be there to give them right back to her – to make sure she knows, sees, just how much he cares.

but she won’t. he’d watch the world burn for her and she still wouldn’t be capable of understanding why he would ever imagine doing it. when Jupiter was around, Saturn’s rings were held high. they stood strong, held up by his warm, comforting embrace.

though, she doesn’t understand his comfort either. why does she crave it when she had never even felt it before? he could teach her, show her new things, try to explain every reason for every word uttered. 

Saturn and Jupiter have a strange bond. merely a ‘loose’ metaphor. the full truth is that he would do anything for her. he’d explain his reasons to her every minute of every day, using every word ever used in the world if that’s what it took, just to help you understand why.

that’s what Luke Castellan promised himself the minute he met you. he knew your rings were slipping. you knew it too. you felt the ache when it first started sprouting, but your days of fighting off the invasive weed were long gone.

so, Luke had taken on that role. even though you didn’t know it, he stood there, waiting. he waited for the moment your rings fell, ready to tell you why he would go that far for you. even if you wouldn’t listen.

© sovksluv 2024 , please do not repost or translate me work !

[whispersinthedawn]

Concealed in the Coriolis Chapter 14

“Stop trying to drown yourself,” Apollo commented, hands behind his back.

Percy ignored the god to wade deeper into the river and its healing waters. He only stopped when the waves rushed over his head and his feet found no purchase on the currents.

“You underestimate my drive to live,” Percy said into the water, trusting the god to hear the words despite the mediums and distance separating them.

“I have people to treat from wounds they didn’t self-inflict,” Apollo pointed out cuttingly. “If you could return to shore before I am forced to retrieve you?”

“Why would you?” Percy retorted, expending the last of his breath.

Apollo was silent for a moment before he asked rhetorically, “I don’t suppose saying I value your life would be convincing.”

Not when the waters swept away the sting from his scalp and the throbbing ache from where the helmeted-raider had slammed his head into the ground. Not when his bruised knees trembled in the cold water from the beating they’d taken as Percy threw himself onto the ground to avoid galloping horses and furious people numerous times in quick succession.

Apollo could have finished it all without even leaving the dubious safety of the line of carts.

He just hadn’t.      

“You could have continued shooting arrows,” Apollo pointed out gravely, voice carrying despite the seeming lack of effort.

Just for a moment, Percy lost himself in sheer hatred. How dare he – how dare that god accuse Percy of risking himself simply because he wished to test his limits instead of acknowledging that Percy couldn’t trust Apollo?

Percy sucked in a breath, determined to lay into the god, only to realise all too late that …

Water flowed its burning path into his lungs and dragged his limbs down.

Percy allowed the sting in his eyes, the discomfort in his ears, the waves buffeting his skin, and all the tiny indicators the river had never failed to provide him to finally form a picture not coloured by his desperate hopes.

The waters embraced him like a long-lost lover – but one desperate to never separate again, one that would take the final steps if required to ensure they never parted. Gone was the gentle hand buoying him up, to be replaced by a possessive, grasping clutch that would frown him rather than lose him.   

Percy was no longer the son of Poseidon.

The water flowed into his lungs and drowned him.

***

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A spotify playlist for the whole series

[audreyscribes]

Ω PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS: 🌊 PONTUS: PERSONIFICATION OF THE SEA 🌊

Author’s note: *put head into hands* Alright, so I may or may not have went off from the usual formula (Do I even have a formula for writing these at this point?) and I think I may have made the primordial demigods here more cryptid cause they’re the literal by-product of primordial beings that are also half-mortal? I won’t be including the usual blurbs at the ending cause all of them are probably pushing the word limit Tumblr has but worry not, I made up for it by putting more storylines into the whole thing. PRIMORDIAL DEMIGODS MASTERLIST: [LINK]

You have the most mundane origin as you emerged out of the sea. Need I say more? When you hear the other children of Primordials of how they were created, yours feels very dumb in retrospect. You’re created from the embodiment of the sea and while you don’t know how you’re half-divine, you certainly look like it with some unnatural characteristics that while in one light, clearly looks like you’re a creature of the sea but if they catch you in the wrong light, they’ll see the hidden and ancient depths of the sea that no one will ever hope to conjure. Seeing as your father is the primordial sea, you have more ancient sea traits than people think. Imagine the great dinosaurs of the sea or deep ancient sea creatures. Yeah. It’s more visible when you come into contact with water, but you can bring your ancient sea form forward on will if you’re on land, but it's just not as instinctive. 

You lived by the sea, raised by it, and those who inhabit it. Nereus and his daughters and sons, the Nereids and Nerites, among many others make regular visitors, teaching you things. In fact, you were even visited by Poseidon who felt your existence and although you were a child of a primordial, you were still young compared to Poseidon; so you could only look up at him. Instead of being squashed by him, Poseidon let you live. In fact, he instead told you to walk further down the long line of the sea until you came upon a cabin with the name of hawk. You did as he asked, curious as you adjusted your sea legs to land by walking on the sand. You walked until you reached Montauk and a cabin that Poseidon described. You stared upon it a bit longer wondering why you were here until you saw the doors open and a woman appeared worriedly, reaching you. She wrapped your seaweed covered body with a piece of fabric,and while you relished the fluffy towel upon your skin, you didn’t know what company you had come across. 

Nonetheless, that was how Sally, Paul, Estelle, and Percy gathered you around the table, teaching you how to eat modern human food while also gathering your story. Between Nereus and the knowledge of Water, you had a faint idea of who was in front of you but at the same time, you didn’t really clock on the severity of the information; you just absorbed everything like a sponge. You learned alongside Estelle and Percy personally gave you a rundown on what to do and what not to do, and no please don’t flood the toilet. 

The next thing you knew, you were in a car, enamoured and playing with Estelle and her toys while Sally was peeling the car down to Camp Halfblood where there was absolute chaos. Funny enough, this was how all of Camp Halfblood and practically all the mythical world learned upon the knowledge of the primordial children that you just regurgitate to them like a water fountain. In fact, you threw everyone more in a loop when you found the remnants of the child of Chaos that everyone ABSOLUTELY DID NOT KNOW THEY HAD PRIOR in the Hermes cabin and turns out is actually missing who just up and left. Everything went over your head as you beamed up at Sally who was putting on the best motherly behaviour and asked if you were going to be okay to be with Estelle, which you were absolutely down for, and you helped Mr. D turn his cup of water into wine…which is another thing you can do for some reason. Not realising the chaos you just unearthed behind you as you played peek-a-boo and bubbles, that you conjured up yourself with Estelle. 

A meeting was held; of what and how they were going to deal with this and the other primordial demigods… before you added in that the Gaea and Chaos demigods have each been gathering forces of the other primordial children…which led the others to realising you were the next one on the list. So cue the immediate warzone, notifying the Roman camp, and with the other primordial children were at their doorsteps, bringing the fight to them.

As you can imagine you have the ability to manipulate water. Just imagine what a child of Poseidon can do, but on a more innate level; so if a child of Poseidon is in the element of the sea, you are part of the sea. You are also able to turn your body into water, specifically sea water, your form malleable as big as you want or just long enough when a blade slices through you without damage. You can produce water more easily then a child of Poseidon, and your water is a reflection of you. So if you’re angry/hot headed, the water is going to be hot, and if you’re cool and level headed, it’s going to be well…cool.  On consequence, you also have a salty temperament, so you hold a grudge. When you develop your emotions better, you’re less salty more ways than one. 

Your key feature is that while you may look human enough, there’s something about you that invokes a sense of danger like when you stare down into a deep pool water, the depths unseen to you. You can also change your form into some sort of ancient human-oid sea creature, with scales for skin, sharp teeth like a shark, and webbed, clawed fingers. However, careful in bearing this form because if you’re on dry land it might be uncomfortable like wearing a wet, skin suit under baking sun. You also might slip into a certain mindset that might not be able to tell friend from foe. 

???? EPILOGUE ??? [TUMBLR] || [AO3]

[nikkeora]

𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 - p.j

summary; percy comforts you after finding you on the fire escape.

pairing; percy jackson x neighbor!demigod!reader

word count; 4.6k

warning(s); themes of abusive relationships. do not interact if this is a trigger for you, and please, reach out if you need help and are able. the world is full of people who can help, even if it's just little things like consolation.

a/n; sorry this took so long!! english isn’t my first language, so there might be a couple errors. feedback is always appreciated :) // takes place between the fourth and fifth book of pjo

request(s); HI HOPE YOURE HAVING A GOOD DAY/NIGHT CAN I PLEASSSSEEEEEE GET PERCY X READER "58/ "Who did this to you?"" WITH PROTECTIVE PERCY I WILL CRY!!!

Hello! Can I please request Percy Jackson x reader with prompt #58: “Who did this to you?” Thank you!

Every time Percy made his way back home after Camp, he expected all sorts of monsters to come pounding at the door. He was the son of Poseidon, after all—the more powerful a demigod was, the easier they were to smell out.

And they kind of did; dracaenae in the grocery store, pit scorpions in the gym and pretty much everywhere else. He even saw a cyclops from his bedroom window once, lumbering pretty dam close to the apartment before shaking his head, seemingly confused, and wandering off. Well, that was strange.

Percy had tried to think of anything that could have thrown the cyclops off his trail. Maybe he smelled another half-blood somewhere, or maybe he just didn't feel like having son-of-the-sea-god fillet for dinner. None of those seemed likely.

Or maybe the cyclops just lost the trail, simple as that. But in Percy’s opinion, that was even less likely than the other two options. Being a son of one of the Big Three gods, Percy was pretty much a beacon for monsters everywhere, which was why he was always hesitant when coming home after camp. He didn't want to put his mom in danger because of him (and Paul Blowfish was really nice, too).

The only way to get rid of his smell, as far as he knew, was by covering it with a stench so foul that it got masked, making Percy smell like just a rather horrid mortal to monsters. Yeah, his mom got an apartment in a shady neighborhood to sort of do just that, but a shady neighborhood wasn't nearly enough to confuse a monster like a cyclops. He needed Smelly Gabe levels of stink, at the very least.

Another reason Percy thought the whole shady neighborhood plan wasn’t what had thrown that cyclops for a loop was because of you.

Now don't get him wrong, he liked having you around. A little too much, even, which he was embarrassed to admit. You were one of the first and best friends he'd made at camp, and you had a personality that could brighten anyone's day. But two demigods living in the same building? Going to the same school, no less? That had to be a recipe in some sort of demon cook book somewhere, just imagine—'easiest-ever cheesecake with half-blood garnish: start by catching two half-bloods, preferably from the same building to keep them fresh...'

Strangely enough, though, nothing ever seemed to get near him when he was with you. No dracaenae disguised as pregnant ladies in the store, no pit scorpions crawling out from between the bookshelves in the library. Not once while hanging out with you did a monster decide to stop by for a quick snack, which was a pretty big deal considering he never left your side if he could help it. He never understood why that was.

Until tonight.

Percy never slept well at home. Sure, it was great to be there, but this wasn’t like Camp, where a magic barrier kept anything dangerous from getting in. This was a regular mortal apartment, where a Laistrygonian giant could easily lob a giant ball of fire at if he had a half-decent aim. He lay awake most nights, which was pretty frustrating since he couldn’t use a phone or something to distract himself, and trying to read just made the words float off the page. So, naturally, he used the sound that flooded through his bedroom window as a sort of white noise to help him fall asleep.

Tonight was especially difficult. He was up way past the point where his body usually started to give in to the drowsiness, and it was really pissing him off. Every time he shut his eyes and tried to force himself to go to sleep, they just opened again a minute or two later, feeling a lot drier.

Suddenly, he heard someone open then slam their window shut a few floors up. Someone slipped onto the fire escape and started climbing down. Who in Hades would be out there at this hour?

The footsteps stopped almost as soon as they started, and nothing but the usual busy murmur of the Manhattan night continued once again. How long had passed? Ten minutes? Twenty? Percy realized he hadn’t heard another window open or close. And the footsteps never passed by his window, so Percy figured whoever was out there was maybe two or three stories up from his floor – somewhere near yours – and decided to go check, grabbing Riptide in its pen form off his bedside table.

If it was just some mortal who’d decided to hang out up there, that’s fine and all. He might have to scare them off if they were too close to your window, but no one would be in actual danger. If it was a monster trying to sneak up on him, or you, for that matter, he would take care of it and come back inside. He didn’t have anything better to do, anyway. He slowly opened his window and slipped outside, being as quiet as he possibly could considering the fire escape was practically ancient.

What he found when he climbed up, however, wasn’t some rando or a monster. It was you. And while normally the sight of you would fill his stomach with butterflies so strong they practically made his skin tingle, what he saw now made his heart drop umpteen stories to the Underworld.

You were wearing your pajamas, which any sensible person would say were much too cold for the season. It was nearing winter a lot more than autumn now, and the temperature was low enough that he could see your shaky breaths. Even so, you still sat out there in nothing but a paper-thin long sleeved shirt and some sweats, hugging your knees to your chest as to either bring yourself some comfort or warmth. Probably both. Your whole body was shaking pretty hard, and Percy didn’t need to see your face to know that you were crying.

He put Riptide into his pocket and shuffled his feet a little as he got closer to you, deliberately making his presence known so he wouldn't startle you when he sat down next to you. Quickly wiping your hand across your face, you tried to clean any trace of tears as you looked up to see who was there.

“Hey, Perce,” you said, smiling at him the way you always did. Your voice would’ve sounded normal if it wasn’t so raw. The way you tried to act as though nothing was wrong made Percy want to punch something. Or someone. He clenched his fists, trying to suppress the amount of sheer anger he felt. The silence was deafening as he tried to calm himself down.

“Who did this to you?” He finally asked, his voice shaking. Whether it was from anger, or the sheer amount of willpower he had to conjure to stop himself from beating whoever was the cause of this senseless, he didn’t really know. Your smile wavered a bit.

“What d’you mean?” You replied, trying your best to look confused and oblivious. If he hadn’t caught you actually crying, he was sure he would have bought it. “No one did anything to me, Percy. I’m perfectly fine. Just peachy. All that stuff.”

“Y/N, you’re crying on the fire escape in the middle of the night. I’m not that stupid.” Percy sighed, frustrated. He was your best friend, and as your best friend, it was his job to make sure no one stepped out of line around you, the way you did for him. Like how you gave anyone who tried to talk bad about him a glare so intense they would immediately shut up and run in the opposite direction. “Who did this to you?”

You stayed still for a minute, seemingly weighing your options. On the one hand, you could play dumb and go back home, the way you always did when someone asked what was wrong. You really didn’t want Percy to see you like this. On the other, he already has, so there was no point in trying to hide it.

Besides, the thought of going back to your own apartment made your blood run cold. You ran your hands up and down your arms as chills made their way along your spine.

“My boyfriend,” you finally muttered out, looking away from Percy as you spoke. “He usually stays over since my place is always empty. Practically lives there. We had a big fight about… you, actually. He said you were bad news and told me to stay away from you. I told him you were a good person who just got caught up in some pretty bad situations sometimes. He made a few accusations. Told me—”

You choked on your words. Percy put a hand over your shoulders, a bit hesitant as he wasn’t sure if you wanted him close by right now. After all, he was part of the reason you were out here in the first place. He breathed a little sigh of relief as you leaned into his touch, pressing yourself against his side as he pulled you close.

“He told me I followed you around like a puppy anyway, so to be a good little dog and run home to my master. I didn’t see a point in arguing with him, so I told him that maybe I would. He, um, didn’t like that too much.”

You let out a shaky sigh. Now that you recounted what had happened, it didn’t seem like much of a step up from what your boyfriend usually did. He never liked it when you made friends, so why did him trying to separate you from Percy feel so much more personal than all the other times he told you to cut yourself off?

While you were contemplating the reason for it, Percy was plotting a murder.

He was pretty sure Rachel had a step-by-step guide on it somewhere. But then again, why read a book when one of his other best friends was literally the daughter of the goddess of strategy? And Clarisse.. well, as much as they didn't get along, he was pretty sure she liked you more than most of the other campers, enough to threaten to pulverize anyone who hurt you with the full intent of following it through.

First things first, Seaweed Brain, Anabeth’s voice said in his head (it did that from time to time; Percy assumed he didn't really have his own voice of logic, so his brain borrowed it from the smartest person he knew). She's freezing.

“Right,” he muttered, giving your shoulders a little squeeze. You flinched. First things first, he mentally repeated, and pulled the both of you off of the cold metal platform with an apologetic look. “Let’s get you back to my place, yeah? Get you warmed up.”

You nodded and started to follow him down the stairs. Your legs were unsteady from being folded for too long in the cold, and you stumbled on the first few steps. After the first flight, Percy stopped in his tracks and looked at you for a moment, deciding whether or not carrying you was a bit too much considering there was only a floor or two left to his window. Then he decided that he didn’t care if it was and scooped you up, carrying you bridal-style.

To his surprise, you didn’t protest. He felt you wrap your arms around his neck and hug him tightly, the act making his face go warm. If someone were to see him right now, he was sure the mix of anger and butterflies would have made his face look the color of canned tomato soup.

Once he reached his floor, he put you down and climbed in first, offering you a hand once he was inside. You smiled to yourself as little butterflies fluttered to life in your stomach, but they soon vanished and left you with a sinking feeling that quickly spread everywhere. He was just being a good friend. He doesn’t like you in that way. You have a boyfriend, you shouldn’t be thinking like this–

Percy sat you down on his bed, rummaging through his clean clothes to find something useful. Most of his clothes were really worn out, so it wasn’t much of an easy task. Then his fingers brushed against something soft, and he pulled it out to examine; it was a blue polyester sweater his mom had bought around the end of last winter. He’d worn it a lot over the last few months, but it had been washed more recently than most of his other winter clothes.

“Put this on.” He threw it across the room at you. You caught it and did as you were told, pulling it over your shirt. The scent of ocean breeze fabric detergent and a hint of sea salt washed over you. Percy took a seat beside you on the bed, his gaze boring into you as you tried your best to ignore what had just happened. A second ago, being upset had felt justifiable. Now you were just embarrassed to have been caught.

Again, that wasn’t any worse than what he did every other day. Why did it bug you so much?

“So, you don’t naturally smell like ocean breeze, huh?” You commented, trying to lighten the mood. Or maybe distract him from what he’d just seen. Hey, why not both? “A shame, really. You’d be useful in the Hermes cabin—can’t get cleaned up for inspection most of the time, so smelling nice would definitely be an improvement.”

Percy ran his hand through his hair, his frustration starting to get the better of him. “Does this sort of thing happen often?” He asked. When you didn’t answer, he gently put his hands on either side of your face, making you look at him. Finally, you sighed.

“It’s not usually this bad,” you offered, giving him a small smile. “He never means what he says—or what he does, for that matter. He just gets a little carried away when he’s worried. He’ll apologize in the morning, I’m sure. Always does.”

Usually?

Never?

Always?

This had been going on for a lot longer than Percy had imagined. How could he have let this happen? Was he so dense as to notice the signs? He’d met the guy, for fuck’s sake. He realized now that you weren’t flustered or anything like that whenever your boyfriend dragged you away from him all those times. You were dreading what would happen once no one else was around.

“This isn’t okay, Y/N,” he muttered, moving his hands to hold yours instead. His thumbs traced little patterns on your skin, and you could swear it sent little electric shocks up along your nervous system.

“He’s the best I can hope to get…” You replied, a bitter smile on your face. He told you so all the time. Your best friend got a funny look on his face, something you could only describe as ‘are you fucking kidding me?’ That look then faded into anger, then sadness, then anger again. His expression alternated between the two as he took a breath, then said,

“Tell me everything.”

You were almost certain he almost said something else, but you figured it wasn’t too important. If it was, it would come up again, eventually.

You bit your lip. You didn’t really like telling anyone about your relationship. But then again, this was Percy. He would understand, wouldn’t he?

Percy’s gaze softened as he noticed how hesitant you were. “Please? Promise I won’t judge.” He added.

Oh, come on, that voice was cheating. How could you say no?

So, you started from the top.

From the beginning of your relationship, every time you made some minor mistake, your boyfriend would swoop in and clean up the mess as a ‘favor’. Even if you knew for a fact you could set things straight on your own or didn’t want his help, he was always there to act like it was this huge deal. He would tell you that you were a hot mess, and that no one else but him would ever want to keep you around. He only put up with you because he loved you. And after a couple months, you started to believe him.

Later on, he used those favors against you to guilt you into doing things you didn't really want to do. It started with little things, like getting you to wear what he wanted all the time.

“C’mon babe, remember when I did that thing for you? Just think of it as a little thank you. You can do that for me, right?”

To quote your boyfriend, you were to wear ‘nothing too long, but nothing too skimpy, either’. You weren't allowed to take your coat off in public if you wore a dress that went above your knees, or if your top showed off a little more than what he deemed necessary. You used to joke that you felt like you were dating a high school teacher, but what little humor you managed to find in the situation gradually disappeared as your entire wardrobe was stripped of your own personality and taste.

He became more demanding over time, doing things like taking you out to party with people you barely knew in clothes that made you feel downright uncomfortable, letting his friends ‘borrow’ you if they needed arm candy for a family dinner or something to get their folks off their asses, etcetera. You’d very nearly avoided giving him your first night on his fifteenth birthday—however mad he got, that was the one thing he couldn't guilt out of you.

That was the first time he’d hit you.

“He apologized afterwards,” you quickly added, feeling Percy’s grip tighten. The two of you were now sat facing each other on the bed, shoes kicked off on the floor and legs crossed, with not much space in between except for your intertwined hands. “Like I said, he always does. He was as surprised as me when he did it, and we avoided each other for a week before he came back with a written apology. He told me he wouldn’t go further than anything PG-13 if I wasn’t okay with it.”

He nodded, but you could see his eyes getting darker with each word, their usual sea green color changing until it had more of a stormy blue tone.

Wait a minute, why were you defending the boy who hit you, again?

You continued to tell him how your boyfriend was really insecure, though he tried to hide it in public. You did your best to try to help him, reassure him that he didn’t have anything to be insecure about, but he was almost impossible.

He didn’t like it when you had friends who weren’t also his friends, or when you hung out with anyone else more than him—which, considering he went to a different school than you, meant you weren’t allowed to interact with people much other than the basic stuff. You always distanced yourself from everyone to appease him. So, seeing how much the two of you were around each other, Percy wasn’t exactly popular with your boyfriend.

He murmured passive-aggressive comments whenever he saw you with him, never directly accusing you of doing anything with him but making the questions abundantly clear. He had tried on several different occasions to get you to push him away, and every time you refused, he just got a lot more persistent.

He picked out all the times Percy had supposedly gotten you into trouble, blissfully ignorant about the world of live-action D&D that practically required you to be in danger ninety-nine percent of the time. He made comments about Percy’s ADHD and dyslexia, which you shut down immediately every time. It wasn’t cool to be rude towards people for something they couldn’t control.

Your boyfriend wasn’t used to not getting his way with you for so long, but quite frankly, you didn’t care. Percy was special to you—with him, you could pretend you were just another pair of stupid teenagers doing stupid things. Ironic, considering he was front and center for every major thing that went on. He made you feel like you could breathe, and you’d be damned before you let some sorry excuse of a person take away what little freedom Percy offered.

You made sure to leave that part out, though. There was a time and place for everything, and this wasn’t really the time to confess you had a crush on your best friend, despite having a boyfriend.

That was a secret for another time, if it were to be told at all.

Every time you’d told someone about your boyfriend so far, you’d tried to explain to them that it wasn’t all gray skies and rain. He was so sweet to you back when you were friends, before you got into a relationship; you were sure he just needed some time to get used to the whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing before he bounced back to his regular old self. This time, though, you skipped that part completely.

Something about how Percy treated you made something inside you snap. It had been two whole years, and you were tired of thinking he would change, tired of holding onto hope in a hopeless situation. You were sick and tired of your boyfriend, and it was time you stopped making excuses for everything he did to you.

But, old habits died hard. You felt the all-too-familiar words on the tip of your tongue, and so, on complete impulse, you stopped yourself from starting the obligatory ‘he’s not that bad’ speech by leaning forward and burying your face against Percy’s shoulder. You could tell he was as surprised as you were, and froze on the spot. Red alarm bells blared through your head as you held your breath, waiting for him to make the next move.

Oh fuck oh gods oh fuck—

You fully expected him to push you away, but he didn’t.

Instead, one of his hands snaked around your waist to pull you closer, and closer, and closer, until you were on his lap with your legs on either side of his. He rubbed your back—not exactly in a steady rhythm, but it was comforting nonetheless. You thought you’d cried everything out earlier, but, evidently, you were wrong. Tears made their way down your face and onto Percy’s pajamas, and you choked out apologies between sobs. For what, you didn’t actually know. Getting him wet, not telling him sooner, for making him find out like this… everything.

“I’m sorry,” Another sob racked through your body. “I’m so, so sorry…”

“It’s okay, it’s going to be okay.” He said. “Come on, let it all out.”

You stayed like that for a few moments, and Percy only pulled away when he felt your breathing start to level out. When he looked at you again, your eyes were a lot redder and he was sure they’d be really swollen in the morning.

“You said he… hit you, right?” You nodded, and Percy felt his blood physically boil. “Can I take a look?”

You didn’t say anything – tired out from all the crying, he guessed – and pulled up the back of your shirt instead. Percy hastily got out from under you and got one of the first-aid kits stashed around the house, flicked on the bedside lamp, then pulled out a tub of Arnica.

Apart from the scars and stuff from general life as a demigod, your skin should have been free of any unusual marks. But it was black and blue. A lot of the bruising was more recent, a few just starting to form, so the cream would work fine. But some of it was older and had more of an ashen tone. Those would be tricky to treat, as they would require a lot more long-term care. He dabbed on some of the ointment from the tub and rubbed it in, careful not to put too much pressure. You visibly relaxed, feeling like jelly under his touch.

Once he was sure he had gotten every single bruise, he tugged your clothes back down.

“I think you should stay over tonight.” He concluded, putting the first aid kit back in the general area it had been in. You drowsily agreed, your eyelids already drooping. Neither of you were eager to get back to your boyfriend.

Ex-boyfriend, you decided, telling Percy as such. You’d put up with him for way too long. You would break up with him officially the next day, and tell him to pack everything up and get the hell out of your apartment and out of your life. A weight lifted off your chest at the thought, the pressure that had been built up over two years suddenly dissipating.

When you snapped out of your thoughts, Percy had started to make his way out of his room, muttering something about sleeping on the couch. Before he could get a hand on the door, you caught his sleeve and gently pulled him back to you. You didn’t want to be alone after the night you’d had. And, to be a bit more honest, you wanted to be around him. You wanted him to stay.

“Or… you could just sleep with me.”

Percy’s face turned bright red and you realized how that sounded, sputtering out a few sentences of ‘literally sleeping together’ and ‘didn’t mean it like that’ before giving up and just pulling him down next to you. The two of you got settled under the sheets on opposite ends, which didn’t really do much because Percy’s bed had a single-size mattress. Eventually, though, the two of you moved into a cuddling position to avoid dangling off the sides.

“You don’t mind?” You asked, snuggling closer to him and making his heart skip one or two beats. “Me staying over, I mean.”

“I couldn’t sleep anyway, so you can’t really make it any worse. I think you’re helping, actually,” he replied. “So no, I don’t.” He felt you nod slightly.

“Thanks for everything.” You whispered, hugging him tight. He couldn’t see your face, but he knew by the way your arms slackened and your breathing evened out that you drifted off immediately after.

That was when it hit him.

He was in bed.

With a girl.

And not just any girl, either.

He was in the same bed as you, his best friend, who he had been holding back feelings for, for as long as he’d known you. And you were cuddled up to him, the way all those couples that died really early in all the scary movies his mom loved to watch. It made his heart beat a little faster. A lot faster, actually.

The couple part, that is, not the dying early part.

No, no, no, no. No. This was not the time. If he were to tell you how he felt about you, he would wait until you were healed, mentally and physically.

He hoped that day would come sooner rather than later. He’d help you get there if you’d let him.

His eyelids slowly got heavier and heavier until they closed completely. He hoped his mom wouldn’t be too surprised and scream when she walked in her son’s room and found that you had just magically appeared in his bed.

“For the record,” he murmured, finally feeling the clutches of sleep dragging him down into the abyss. “You deserve so much better. You deserve the world…”

I’d give you mine, if you want, he wanted to add, but those words could wait until another day.