#savior of olympus

[cynthiav06]

I can Almost imagine how Impressive you have to be To Pull THE percy Jackson. Like pulling any Demi-God is great but PERCY?!? The son of posiden?!? THE SAVIOR of Olympus?!?

I headcanon that Percy is really just out of Anyone's League And You gotta be Pretty damn Special to be able to Pull him

Like imagine Fumbling him or breaking his heart

THIS IS HOW IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN.

Like come on Rick you are telling me Percy the greatest demigod of all time Jackson has to be paired up with someone who has nothing in common with him, frequently condescends him, literally forces her own views on him, hates his father, has a mother who tried to kill Percy, is controlling and toxically possessive of him and most importantly someone who has completely different life goals than him?? It doesn't even make sense when you look at it rationally.

I think Rick himself was trying to put Percy down in post Son of Neptune books by making his personality all about Annabeth.

We are talking about the Savior of Olympus, the bearer of Achilles Curse, the strongest demigod, the man who denied immortality from the King of Gods, Poseidon's favorite son, the only demigod to have been approached by other Pantheons first and well respected among their demigod equivalents, the only male demigod to have respect of Artemis, only one to be favored by so many Gods on the Olympian Council and that's only pre-Heroes of Olympus.

The Survivor of Tartarus, the demigod whose blood even Gaia wanted to wake to due to his power, the first and only Greek to be made a Praetor and now two times savior of Olympus. This is all without mentioning his singular and unique feats, and he has many.

AND THIS IS WHAT RICK DOES WITH HIS CHARACTER ARC????

Had Rick not been so obsessed with shoving Percabeth down our throats, he could have totally made Seafam Arc, and all our fics would have not been fics. We wouldn't even have needed headcanons for seafam cause Amphitrite and Triton and all of Atlantis would have absolutely loved him cause come on, it's Percy. It's impossible not to love him. So let's assume that's exactly what happened.

So the whole of Atlantis, Seafam, and most of the Olympian Gods love Percy and not to mention Sally and Paul, who are also very protective of Percy.

The new Lord of the Wild is his best friend, The Lieutenant of Artemis is his other best friend and cousin, both the children of Hades/Pluto are his best friends/cousins, the only other demigod to be blessed by Poseidon with a rare gift is also his very close friend not to mention other members of the Seven also respect him greatly and owe him quite a bit.

Hestia, Apollo, Hermes, Aphrodite, Artemis,Hades, Hepheastus, and even Dionysus and River gods either openly favor him or have much respect for him. (Poseidon and the Seafam are implied, Bob and Damasen as well).

This isn't even taking into account all the pegasi and nymphs and sea creatures who love him and that he has a literal hell hound.

Percy not only has friends in high places and the favor of literal gods on top of being Poseidon's favorite son as told by Poseidon himself, all the people with special abilities are all close friends with him.

In Riordanverse, Percy is like the only person you don't want to cross like ever.

So you know logically if anyone needs an explanation as to why Annabeth isn't a good match for him and someone like Rachel would have fit much better. A mortal blessed with sight much like his Mother later turned Oracle of Delphi, the girl who saved his life in literally the very first two encounters they have, a girl under protection of Olympians and blessed by Apollo?

Apollo could have definitely waived the celibacy rule as there have been mentions of married women later becoming oracles in Greek mythology( May Castellan too if you count the books) and that the rule is only to prove devotion to the God nothing more. And if Apollo can't, then Delphi, who is a spirit older than Gods themselves, could just change allegiances. She once belonged to Poseidons' domain, so there's that.

But since I am biased in favor of Rachel, literally any other ship but Percabeth would have been logical and fitting and better off compatibility wise.

[ofswordsandpens]

Riordan: And the grand lesson that Percy needed to learn over the course of hoo, the culmination of his character arc of this series, the moment where the fate of the world hangs in the balance because of a single decision he has to make... is realizing when he needs to take a step back :)

Me:

[fourcornersofcreation]

Percy and Grover are the two biggest gossips in the riordanverse and no one can convince me otherwise.

Percy/Grover knows when the other has just learned something juicy cause of their empathy link (that's been completely forgotten buy literally everyone, something I cry bout everyday).

Now don't get me wrong, Percy and Grover would never share/spread what they know outside of each other, they know how damaging rumours can be.

I just hc that Percy subconsciously seeks out information on other people as a sort of "passive" defense mechanism if that makes sense.

With how little people tell him (if they tell him anything at all) and how often everyone, even those closest to him, deliberately keeps him in the dark, his habit of seeking out "gossip" and "rumors" when he was younger steadily developed into a habit of seeking and hoarding whatever information he could find.

Like he doesn't need to know but he'd like too, and virtually nothing about his behavior towards the others would change aside from the fact he'd be more prepared to interact/deal with the person he's talking to/facing, more prepared to "code switch" in a way.

Which loops in well with the fact that many people (Grover, annabeth, Thalia, Bianca, Zoe etc) confide in Percy/tell him bout their pasts/secrets easily enough, and while Percy listens to and empathizes with them he rarely offers up his own experiences.

One of the only times I can remember where Percy tried to get someone to see/understand his pov was in TLT where he asked annabeth something to the effect of "what if it was your dad that was kidnapped?" and annabeth replied with something like "I wouldn't care" which understandably surprised Percy. I think that interaction is part of the reason why Percy never speaks about himself/his past with others, it's obviously not the only thing that contributed but I think it was a decent sized factor in maybe not creating but rather cementing the idea that Percy should keep his cards as close to his chest as possible, and if he ever had to share any of his cards I think he'd like to know how he should share them, like how he should phrase things and what points he should make yk?

The more he knows bout the person he may have to interact with, the easier it would be to "make a plan" so to speak (and by "make a plan" I mean that Percy wouldn't have to worry much bout stepping into uncomfortable territory if that makes sense)

Let's not forget that despite what everyone says and believes (both in universe and in fandom), Percy is not only smart as hell, he's also incredibly observant and he notices a lot of things, he'd find it real easy to build a profile on everything he comes into contact with.

Grover, due to the empathy link, did pick up Percy's habit and adopted it himself but he also just straight up likes to gossip

(This got kinda derailed/rambley and this hc is totally just me projecting onto Percy a lil, I stand by it tho.)

[xixovart]

pack it up jason grace

[princessofghosts-posts]

One of the things that always gets me is the fact that everyone,in a way or another,in the Riordanverse is related.

In BoO,when Annabeth and Piper went on their solo mission in the Temple of Fear,I was slapped with the realization that the Ares cabin and Aphrodite cabin are basically step siblings,and share divine siblings too. And this also put children of Mars and Venus in the same category.

Children of Hephaestus and Aphrodite are technically siblings too,but born out of wedlock/cheating,or technically children of divorce. Same is for Vulcano's and Venus's children.

We have the children of the Big Three,both greeks and romans,that are direct cousins. Which fortunately is the only link that people actually acknowledge,otherwise we would be in deep shit with the books (ff are something else entirely,they are wild anyway).

Thalia and Jason have Apollo,Artemis,Hermes,Athena and Ares as siblings,and fortunately only Apollo was acknowledged in this (in TTC he calls Thalia half-sister if I remember correctly). But this mean that everyone one of their children are their nephews and nieces.

Mirroring that,every demigod children of the Big Three are also direct cousins with Apollo,Artemis,Hermes,Athena and Ares. So this put Percy,Nico and Hazel relationship with Annabeth,Will and Frank in a whole different light.

And that's only the Olympians.

Kronos is literally everyone grandfather or great grandfather,so the whole first serie was about how his nephews and nieces dishonored and erased him from the family tree again.

And Gaia is literally their great grandmother and great great grand mother,since Kronos is one of her sons. The second serie is another beef between grandma and nephews and nieces,from different sides of the family,that decided to unite each other against her.

Also,Gaia first child was Uranos,and Uranos is technically Aphrodite's dad. So every child of Aphrodite has Uranos as grandfather and again Gaia as great grandmother. Which is crazy.

Children of Nemesis and Hypnos have as grandmother literally Nyx herself. Like,their family tree is probably the most fucked up since they are siblings of whatever other children she had (Thanatos and Eris are some of them).

Children of Demeter are Persephone's siblings,which means they are technically Nico and Hazel step-uncles and step-aunts. Even here the family tree is a not a good one,especially if we take into the account they are Hera,Zeus,Hades,Poseidons and Hestia direct nieces and nephews.

And we also have the giants,the titans,the monsters and everything else in between and whatever else Gaia did with Tartarus. Everyone is related and it's crazy.

And every children of each greek god are siblings with the roman counterpart children and viceversa. Which is like,the only other link that people take in consideration when it cames to their family tree.

No one is safe from the messed up family tree.

Forever glad that Riordan decided to put the "if they aren't your half-siblings go for it" rule because otherwise it was going to get really ugly.

[number1greekhater]

Did you miss me?

What's your name?

Don't tell me you've already forgotten. It's me, Octavian. Your best Augur? Come on now.

How old are you?

I was 18 last I checked.

What's your gender?

Wow, what the fuck is this? Uh, I'm a man.

Sexuality?

Now that's not very appropriate to ask of the Augur. I am not disclosing that.

And your... godly parent?

DID YOU SERIOUSLY FORGET ME??? I'M THE FUCKING AUGUR, THE APOLLO DESCENDANT, YOU DENSE LITTLE—

People I know:

@the-great-emperor-commodus

The man himself, man-made-god, incredibly kind to me for some reason... gave me a knife and said he just adopted me.

@onlymythologypersonincamp

A Nox child that keeps bothering me, though it is pretty okay- ish. It's not like she's interrupting me...

@laviniaaasimov

My... well, friend. I think. I'd like to call her that- she knows me. I know her. She crochets me stuffed animals.

@daughterofthesunandtheatregod

She's annoying, but a good annoying. How does that work? Fuck if I know, I just know it works.

Ooc under cut!

Hey guys it's me @somebody-insertlyric with this deranged little man, I hope you like him! It's essentially he died after HoO and spent a while in the underworld until he saw an alive person in there and just kinda... followed them out lol

Tags:

#need to consult the gods? — ask tag

#I AM THE SAVIOR OF ROME! I WAS PROMISED! — general posting tag

#i have stuffed animals to stab. — end rp tag

#mod doing a little silly — ooc posting tag

Special tags:

#buzzing with questions — the fat bee

#like... great aunt or smth — Archer

[thechildofshadows]

I love characters that have an aura of power and like are the most fucking powerful people on the planet…

but you wouldn’t know because they’re cinnamon rolls who roll out of bed with drool on their face and bed hair.

(They’re scary when they want to be)

[currentlyinflames]

SEBKEBF I LOVE WALKERS NARRATION IN THE NEW TRAILER IT IS JUST LIKE BOOK PERCY

[scrambledd3ggss]

confession time: I barely remember anything that happened in HoO so now I have to re read all the books

like I remember some scenes, but honestly I would read it really early in the morning and I don’t think my brain was awake enough to latch onto any important details 😭

[ofswordsandpens]

im so much more interested in a hoo that lets Percy keep the status and power he'd left off with in the Last Olympian and explores how he grapples with that instead of immediately forcing him back into the role of the underdog at the expense of his prior development. Let the fact that he alone has the title the "Savior of Olympus" mean something. Let the fact that he is the sole survivor of the great prophecy mean something. Let the Curse of Achilles mean something. Let us see how it's a curse and how it could warp his sense of self. Let Percy be on a completely different playing field than the rest of the seven (or even the other children of the big three at this point) and show us how it alienates him.

[dreamdragonkadia]

Do I know where I was going with this? No. Did I black out halfway through writing it? Probably. But listen… Percy Jackson absolutely gives “gets way too hyped when his girl wears something related to him” energy. Man would be feral over a $5 necklace from a street vendor if it had his initial on it. I don’t make the rules. p.jackson x reader

It was supposed to be a dumb little joke.

A fleeting moment of amusement while browsing a street vendor’s stand with your coffee in one hand and absolutely no intention to buy anything in the other.

But then you saw it—cheap gold, slightly tacky, in the shape of a dainty little “P.” And your brain short-circuited with the thought: Percy would either laugh his ass off or get unreasonably smug about this.

You snorted out loud before you even picked it up.

It was so not your style. Not really. But the mental image of Percy’s reaction? Worth every cent. Your mother had glanced at the gaudy thing when you showed her later and rolled her eyes, smiling into her mug of tea.

“Just don’t let your father see that,” she warned, and you both burst out laughing.

At first, it was meant to be ironic. Just a little inside joke between you and your seaweed-brained boyfriend. Something you wore around friends who knew him—friends who would shoot each other knowing looks and bite back laughs when they spotted the necklace resting at your collarbone.

“He knows about that thing?” one of them had asked once, and you’d blinked.

“Nope.”

And that had only made it funnier.

Because over the last few weeks, it had become...weirdly normal. You’d worn it every day, mostly tucked beneath layers of sweaters and scarves, hidden from view thanks to the brutal cold snap that had refused to leave all winter. You’d almost forgotten you were even wearing it. Like it had become just another piece of you.

Still, Percy hadn’t seen it.

Not in your last few weekend visits. Not over Iris messages or during quick calls between work and class. Not even when he crashed at your place and stole all your blankets, mumbling into your shoulder that you were “the heater now.”

It wasn’t on purpose. He just hadn’t seen it.

Not until today.

The heatwave came in suddenly—last week of spring, everything sticky and warm, like the gods had finally realized “oh, right, summer exists.” You’d peeled off your cardigan without much thought. It was a lazy afternoon at Percy’s place. You were curled up in his room, legs tangled with his, controllers in hand, the muffled music of Mario Kart drifting from the TV.

You leaned forward, shifting your body to readjust the blanket twisted under your knee. The little golden “P” slipped into view, glinting in the sun streaming through his window.

And Percy Jackson, savior of Olympus, part-time college student and full-time walking trainwreck, paused mid-race. His character crashed into a banana peel.

You didn’t notice at first—too focused on beating his ass at Rainbow Road. But when you finally glanced over, his eyes were locked on your chest, wide and blinking and very clearly not because he was admiring your stellar gaming skills.

“…Babe?” you asked, shifting slightly. The necklace shifted with you.

Percy blinked again. “Is that… is that a P?”

You glanced down, following his gaze. “Oh. Yeah.”

“…Like. For me P?”

You grinned. “No, it’s for Poseidon. Duh.”

His jaw dropped. “I knew it! You’re into older men—”

You burst out laughing and shoved him with your shoulder. “Yes, Percy. It’s for you. I bought it like… a month ago?”

“And you’ve just been wearing it? All the time?”

You shrugged, cheeks heating slightly. “Kinda forgot it was there.”

He was still staring. Eyes flicking between your face and the little pendant, like he couldn’t decide if he was supposed to be flattered or teasing. Knowing him, probably both.

“That’s... really cute,” he said finally, voice low and weirdly sincere. “Like. Really cute.”

You squinted at him. “You okay, Perce?”

He shook his head a little, like trying to shake off a daze. “No, it’s just—wow. You wear my initial around your neck like a statement and didn’t even tell me. I feel like I should be paying rent for living in your heart like that.”

You snorted. “Shut up.”

But he was grinning now, like you’d just handed him the world on a string. He leaned over and gently tugged the chain to get a better look, brushing his fingers along your collarbone in a way that sent butterflies straight to your stomach.

“I mean,” he added, eyebrows wiggling, “you are branded now. No take-backs.”

“You’re…something,” you mumbled, trying not to smile as you turned back to the game.

But he didn’t go back to his controller. Didn’t even try. He just kept watching you with that stupid fond look on his face, one hand still brushing over the little “P” that had started this whole thing.

And even though you were still technically winning the race, you couldn’t focus for the life of you.

Not with Percy Jackson looking at you like that.

[serensho]

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

wonder boy

au in which mark is hercules in ancient greece! and he saves a sassy damsel who changes everything.

warnings: fem!reader, a smidge of angst, fluff, not canon compliant to invincible or hercules tbh...

inspired by disney's hercules & greek mythology in general

a continuation of this thought!

hercules!Mark Grayson who’s waited his entire life to get his powers and to join his father Nolan, on Mount Olympus, but has been nurtured by his mother Debbie which has given him something other demigods lack: humanity.

hercules!Mark Grayson who finally gets his powers only to realize that being a hero is going to take a lot more than just good intentions. He has to train and hone his strength, and leaves home only to come across a satyr named Cecil who sends him on numerous quests to do so. 

hercules!Mark Grayson who begins gaining notoriety for slaying monsters big and small, the muses singing his praises but it’s still not enough. He’s a hero among humans but he feels like he’s missing something.

hercules!Mark Grayson who goes on a quest one day and hears the cries of a fair maiden – but it seems as though you’re actually holding your own against the giant – until he scoops you up in one large hand and then Mark rushes in to save you.

“Agh! Let go of me you–” you cry out as a blur of black hair and yellow punches the giant in the face, and you’re falling until that same blur catches you in his arms and places you on the ground safely. 

You look around to see that your savior has knocked the giant out cold. Your hair whips around you as he suddenly lands from his flight and you blow a stray strand out of your face as you take in his appearance.

A yellow and blue toga adorns his muscular frame as he looks you up and down, presumably assessing you for any injuries. He runs a hand through his hair and is he…flexing?

“Are you alright, miss?” He asks and you scoff.

You offer him your name and say, “I had it handled, you know.”

“O-oh! I really don’t know about that. But I’m Mark. Mark Grayson,” he offers a hand out to you and you decline, walking past him to the nearby stream.

You wash your hands, splashing some of the water on your face, bending to brush some water through your hair which has become messy from the earlier skirmish. You feel Mark’s eyes on you as he eyes the curve of your spine, your figure visible through your toga in the setting sun’s light and turn suddenly, as Mark looks away quickly, a blush visible on his face. 

Cute.

“Should I know who you are, wonder boy?” You walk past him again, hips swaying.

He follows and says, “Well–I mean–maybe you’ve heard of me? I-I have done a lot of quests and stuff.” You stop suddenly and he bumps into you, cheeks especially red as you look up at him.

“Look not that I’m not grateful for you saving me, but I really should get going. I’m sure another damsel needs your services. Maybe I’ll see you around…Mark.” You continue walking away as Mark stares at you, warmth filling his chest. There’s just something about you that’s calling out to him, a siren’s call as you look behind you to see him standing there in a daze. He shakes his head and jogs to catch up with you.

“Hey, I just thought of something you could do to repay me for saving you and all. Spend the rest of the night with me.”

Your eyes widen and you smirk playfully. “Woah, a little forward, don’t you think, hero?”

His face flushes once more as he stutters, “T-That’s not what I meant! I mean, let’s just spend some time together. Get to know one another a little more.”

“Alright, Mark. Show me a good time then,” you say, gesturing for him to lead you toward the path nearby.

Mark spends much of the night trying to impress you, which is sweet. He’s sweet. He leads you through the city telling you stories of the monsters he’s slain and his plans to reach Mount Olympus. His drive, determination, and dreams are admirable. Something you hadn’t allowed yourself to think of ever since making that deal… 

He sweeps you off your feet and he’s so kind and caring, so unlike anyone you’ve met before. When the laces of your sandals come untied he immediately gets down on his knee to tie them, looking up at you and smiling, paying for every drink and meal you eat, and before you know it you’re sitting on a marble bench in the most beautiful garden, surrounded by statues of other heroes and gods. 

“I had a great time tonight,” Mark says as he gazes at you intently.

You shift under his gaze before staring ahead at the moon. “I did too. I had a lot more fun than I thought I would’ve,” and you turn to him as your eyes meet. You move to sit closer to him, placing a hand on his thigh. “So Mark, what’s your Achilles’ heel? All great heroes have a weakness after all.”

He gulps under your touch, gingerly removing your hand and placing it back in your lap. “I haven’t really found it out. As far as I know I’m–”

You cut him off, placing a hand on his chest looking up at him seductively. “What? Invulnerable? There must be something that makes you like the rest of us regular old people, huh wonder boy?”

Once again Mark removes your hand from his chest, fixing the strap of your toga that’s fallen before moving a bit further from you. You’ve only just met after all and he wants to be respectful, doesn’t want to rush things especially when that strange feeling from deep within begins to stir with your touch. 

“I don’t know. I guess I haven’t tried finding out? Maybe I should…” He trails off as he becomes fixated on the statue of Hades ahead. 

“I’m sorry, Mark. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. With the touching, or about your weakness. I just…normally when someone takes me out they’re more…they normally expect something at the end of it,” you say as you sigh deeply. 

Mark grabs your hands, studying your face as he does so. His eyes land on your lips before looking into your eyes as his face softens. “I don’t want to be like any of those people. I want to get to know you, before all of that stuff. Or at least get to know as much as you’ll show me.”

His sincerity shocks you as you relax under his touch. 

O-okay, Mark. I’d like that. I think I’d like that a lot,” and you feel your cheeks becoming warm as you shift to rest your head on his shoulder, one hand remaining intertwined with his.

The eyes of the Hades statue before you both begin to glow, Mark not noticing as he melts into you, eyes closed. Your pulse quickens as you glare at it, your stomach filling with dread, replacing the butterflies that had been fluttering so rampantly when Mark spoke.

a/n: guysss, if you made it this far, i hope you liked this! i wanted to keep it somewhat short and sweet but would be open to maybe making this a series of drabbles. i also want to thank you for all the love on angel!reader, it means so much to me that anyone even likes or reads my content. thank you so much again for reading and don't be afraid to like, reblog, and comment! and send in requests!!! more mark/invincible content coming soon!!

[astereceaestarzs]

latino and…. a white man 😨

The mental imagine is seared into my brain

[pigfacedbitch]

The Price of Promos

summary : Percy is obsessed with you, but people ship you with Jason. what's worse is you two take advantage of it on certain situations.

word count : 0.9k

pairing/s : Percy Jackson x Daughter of Nyx! Reader (Kinda?). Jason Grace x Reader (It's just for show).

warning/s : does lying for free stuff count as one? Percy is a little unhinged.

here's my masterlist!

Note : I, too, would like free stuff.

Perseus Jackson doesn’t hate Jason Grace.

I mean, how could anyone?

The guy is basically a walking PR campaign for heroism— selfless, kind, responsible, and so absurdly noble. They all had their tragic backstories, but Jason?

The guy was literally sacrificed as a toddler. Meanwhile, Percy at least had a childhood (albeit featuring Smelly Gabe and an absentee sea god for a dad, but still— memories were made).

Let’s not forget the sheer unfairness of Jason’s looks: golden-boy Roman features, electric blue eyes, six-pack abs (which Percy totally never stared at), and that conveniently attractive scar that made people swoon like he was the protagonist of a tragic romance novel.

If they only knew he got that scar from trying to eat a fucking stapler.

Jason could’ve been an entitled jerk, taking advantage of his powers, his authority, his stupidly good genetics. But no. He had to go and be a great person. Patient, understanding— the human equivalent of a therapy dog, if therapy dogs could shoot lightning and fly.

How could anyone hate that?

So yeah, technically, Percy couldn’t hate him.

But sometimes... Percy wants to yeet him into the ocean and never let him out.

Why?

Because of you.

The only demigod of Nyx.

You, the one demigod that somehow made Camp Half-Blood look like it had something to prove.

You weren’t rude, per se. Just… too unbothered, like someone who had already seen way too much crap to care anymore.

A walking badass, terrifying in the way that made people question their own survival skills.

Like when a monster asked, “How will you sleep at night after everything you’ve done?” and you deadpanned, "Like a baby, motherfucker." before slicing its head off.

You, who casually sipped a drink after saying, "Gods are the funniest to torture. They don’t die. They can’t beg for death if it never comes."

Or the time you casually dragged a monster into Tartarus instead of fighting it because "Ugh, this is taking too long! I have plans."

Half the camp was terrified of you. The other half idolized you. There was no middle ground.

And Percy? He is obsessed.

It wasn’t a secret either. His friends roasted him constantly about it.

They have a running joke about how the literal savior of Olympus could barely ask you out without causing plumbing disasters.

It was either you were oblivious, or you were just waiting for him to, as Leo so eloquently put it, grow some cojones and finally make a move.

So technically, you weren’t his. Yet.

He is working on it, okay?

But what made his blood boil was how everyone kept shipping you and Jason— the golden boy and the dark, dangerous femme fatale. Oooh, forbidden love! The perfect aesthetic! Percy couldn’t care less.

At first, you and Jason laughed it off. But then—

Sales. Discounts. Promos.

And suddenly, Percy was living in hell.

Because the moment a deal was on the table, you and Jason leaned into the "couple" act so fast it gave Percy whiplash.

That’s when Percy’s casual irritation turned into full-blown homicidal intent. Towards Jason, of course.

The first betrayal happened at a café.

A barista, way too chipper for Percy’s liking, smiled at you and Jason. "Are you two a couple? Lovebirds get free drinks today!"

Percy watched in horror as you and Jason shared a look.

Free drink, (Y/N)?

Duh, idiot.

And with synchronized, Oscar-worthy smiles, you both turned to the barista. "Yes, we are."

The barista squealed. "You’re like night and day. So cute!"

Jason, fully committing, threw an arm around you. Percy was this close to turning that café into an aquarium.

His hand inched toward Riptide.

He could make it look like an accident. Right?

Instead, he settled for stabbing his blue cupcake with enough aggression to count as a felony. He, of course, paid full price for it.

Unbelievable.

The next time, it was at a shopping mall. You were all just supposed to get supplies. Simple. Harmless. Until a saleslady smiled brightly at you and Jason.

"You two are adorable! Are you dating?"

"Oh, we’re n—"

"Couples get a 50% discount per purchase. To keep the love alive!"

"—totally dating! Right, Jason?"

Percy felt his soul leave his body.

Jason, grinning, sealed the betrayal with a playful peck on your cheek.

Percy lunged. Annabeth and Grover had to physically hold him back.

"I can make it swift. Jason won’t feel a thing—"

"No." Annabeth and Grover said in unison.

And then there was the movie theater.

The old vendor, all kind smiles, handed Jason a snack box. "For you and your girlfriend. Enjoy the movie, kid."

Jason, with those perfect teeth, turned to you. "Love, come here."

You complied. He puts an arm around your waist and pressed multiple kisses on your cheek. "Isn't my boyfriend the sweetest?"

Percy nearly exploded on the spot.

Jason Grace. Cause of death? Choking on excessive buttered popcorn and blue Coke.

At the end of the day, Percy knew it was all for the freebies.

Logically, he got it.

But that didn’t stop the irrational rage whenever he saw you two act like a couple.

It looked too good. Too natural.

Like you were actually in love and not just two chaotic demigods scamming capitalism.

So, eventually, like a normal human being? He snaps.

"Are you SERIOUS? AGAIN?" He practically yells during another fake dating stunt.

Everyone stops. You and Jason blink.

Percy throws his hands in the air. "Oh my gods, just date Jason already if you love scamming the universe so much!"

You tilt your head. "Or… you could just ask me out already?"

"...That's a better option. Come on, let's leave this stapler-eating nerd." Percy grabs your hand and pulls you away. "Fly home, Jason!"

"I drove us here, though?" Jason murmurs, confused.

You just laugh, intertwining your hand with his.

And Percy? He just smirks, finally tasting victory.

[sellmysoulforamap]

You Can Stay

Raven haired, ocean eyed Perseus Jackson. The Hero of Olympus, bearer of the curse of Achilles, savior of Camp Half Blood.

And a royal pain in your ass.

Normally this wouldn’t be a problem, you’re good at ignoring people, great at it even. When you don’t want to be found no one can find you, except Percy Jackson apparently.

You had saved his life during the Battle of Mannhatan, and apparently that was enough for him to become enamored. As if he weren’t surrounded by pretty people with swords all the time. You’d think he’d be used to it after years at camp.

You like being alone, you’ve always liked being alone. You’re friends get that, they’ve learned that when you wander off and can’t be found not to go looking for you. You know who hasn’t learned that lesson?

Percy Fucking Jackson.

Heading down to the arena to train?

He’s there.

Going down to the lake after the campfire to cool down?

He’s there.

Walking into the woods to get away from life?

He’s not far behind you.

Which is how you’ve ended up in the top of one of the tallest trees around the lake, your back pressed up against the bark and a book balance precariously on your leg. Camp had grown to be too much for you. Too many people trying to pretend the war didn’t happen, that everything was normal, that more than half of their friends and siblings weren’t dead.

Your cabin didn’t feel far enough away, in truth the tree didn’t feel far enough either.

“Are you… okay?”

You let out a frustrated sound, all you wanted was to be alone for five minutes. “I’m great.” Silently you turn back to the pages of your book, the boy below is quiet as well, for a minute you think he may have finally gotten the hint and left you alone, but its soon after you have the thought that you hear the sounds of branches creaking down below.

Percy stops his accent on the branch below yours, where he stands silently for a few minutes staring up at you as if waiting for you to say something, acknowledge him or whatever. Eventually he speaks quietly. “I’m not okay.”

That makes you pause, your fingers wrapped around the corner of a page you were halfway through turning. Slowly you rest the page down again, and look down at him. It doesn’t feel real, the Percy Jackson, the Hero of Olympus, the savoir of camp, isn’t okay.

Percy Jackson is always okay.

“Why aren’t you okay?” You ask quietly.

You’ve finally given in to his game, his little chase, you expect him to look smug, or happy, or anything expect for the lost expression that forms on his face. “I failed them.”

“What do you mean?”

Percy looks up at you again, his head resting against the tree, bark tugging at the dark waves. “Everyone keeps telling me I won, that I saved everyone, but I didn’t. We lost so many people, I lost so many people.”

“It was war, we were always going to lose people.” You answer softly, you’d been running from everyone at camp for months, Percy included, because it felt like nobody else felt the loss the war had saddled them with.

Maybe you were wrong.

Percy seems to have realized that he had dropped that on you unbidden and looks down at the branches below him, as if considering how to climb back down. “‘M sorry, you probably wanted to be alone.” He murmurs, still looking at his feet.

“You can stay.”

[green-butterfly-writes]

Yandere Batfam concept: neglected trans reader

Warnings for: child neglect, unintentional transphobia as a result of child neglect, (non bigoted) religious imagery, blasphemous imagery, idolizing Bruce Wayne

I'm Dyslexic, and don't have a beta, so mistakes are likely to happen.

Standard neglected reader, they are Bruce’s bio kid, don’t get involved in Batman stuff, and end up getting punished to the side.

They realize they are trans while still living with the Waynes, and aren’t sure if they should come out or not. Not that they think the batclan would hurt them, but given the total lack of support or attention they were raised with, they were worried.

After a year or two of suffering through dysphoria and anxiety, they decide to come out to Bruce.

Except Bruce is very difficult to get a hold of. Especially for them. So when they do finally tell him, he’s distracted and not paying attention. The conversation goes roughly like this:

You finally managed to find time he wasn’t Batmaning, spending time with your siblings, or in the office, and even though you’d prefer he look at you and not the paper work he was doing, you’ll take what you can get.

You were in his darkly furnished home office, in a deep blue plush chair sitting at an angle from Bruce, who was behind the large dark wood desk in the center of the room. The walls were lined with bookshelves taller than mount Olympus, each and every one of them filled with neatly organized text books, encyclopedias, and dictionaries.

Bruce sat in front of the only window in the room. It was tall, and a made of neatly organized, fractured glass. It lit Bruce from behind, like one of the stained glass murals from your grandmother‘s church, and made him look like an angel. A heavenly messenger you prayed to every night for protection, and every day for love. But the world is cruel, and so is its creator, so your prayers continued to go unanswered.

“Dad,” you started hesitantly, “I have something I wanted to talk to you about. I thought it best to tell you in person.” Typically, if you had something you wanted to share with Bruce, you would write it in a letter, leave it on his bedside table, and he’d get back to you in a week or two. But you wanted to tell him yourself. You need to see his face when he found out.

Bruce only hummed in response.

“I’m trans. I’m not going by (dead name) any more, I’m going by (chosen name) now. And I’ve changed my pronouns too. It would mean a lot to me if you used them.” You stared down at your lap, fidgeting with your intertwining fingers, waiting for a response.

Silence suffocated you as Bruce continued his even scribbling across his note pad, turning to the next page in the grant proposal he was reading.

“That’s nice (dead name). Why don’t you go see if Alfred needs help in the garden, I’m sure he’d love to hear your stories.”

You felt as if your very soul had shattered into a million pieces. Your heart burred in your chest, and your mouth went dry. It felt like someone had dunked your head a pile of fresh snow and held you there. You couldn’t feel your body, or hear your mind, and at the same time you felt it all too much, and heard it far to loud.

You had prayed to your heavenly messenger, your savior, your prophet. He who had granted you life and meaning. Who had saved you from deaths door, and carried you into his home. And you were just turned away at the altar.

That was the last time you called him dad.

You considered coming out to Alfred, the only member of the family that remembers your existence without you needing to remind him, but he’s old and you wouldn’t be able to stomach another rejection.

The next few years were hell.

Every event felt like a nightmare, trapped in a cage of fabric, every time you put on your school uniform you wanted to scream

Everyone called you the name you were desperate to forget, used the pronouns that made you skin sit wrong on your bones

You stopped looking in mirrors, hating what you saw.

Once you turned eighteen you practically ran out of the house.

You got excepted to a school in another state and took it, never looking back.

You wrote Alfred monthly letters about how you were doing for the first two years, then every other month, then every four. Slowly weening him off of updates about your life. You still send him a card during the holidays and one for his birthday so he knows you’re alive, but the address is for a P.O. box, so he doesn’t know where you live.

It’s now ten years after you left and you’re doing amazing. You’re flourishing in your career, have an amazing group of friends, and maybe most importantly, changed your first and last name. You got the surgeries you wanted, went on hormones, and can look yourself in the mirror now. You love your life

Sometimes when you’re watching tv or walking through the streets, you’ll see advertisements, magazines, or talk shows with imagery of your now forgotten false idol. Sometimes you wonder how he’s doing, how his kids have grown. You wonder if he misses you. Your therapist told you that’s normal for victims of child abuse. You pay the thoughts no mind.

You don’t watch the every move of your golden bat anymore, in fact you don’t watch any. And you don’t realize that he’s watching you, praying for forgiveness, not only for what he has done, but for what he’s about to do.