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crazy4nika · 2 months

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SECRET?

Clarisse La Rue x Aphrodite!reader

Warnings: breakup, smoking, not proofread so…. misspellings? maybe?

“Im sorry you know I had to do it.” i spoke quietly, holding the girls hands in mine, “I really didn’t want to.”

The blonde hephastus girls hair stuck to her tear-soaked face, her eyes watering as she looked in mine, “You promised me that you wouldn’t do it, you said it meant nothing to you!” She yanked herself away from me.

I really didn’t want to hurt her, I actually liked her. The guilt of it was swallowing me up already.. “Im sorry but I need my mother to love me, okay? I understand if you don’t get it because your mom raised you, but it’s hard being a teenage girl with no parental figure okay!” I pressed my hands into my forehead, rubbing my temples.

“Sorry, I just-” She tried to grab me again, her hand brushing over my arm. I pulled away from her touch.

“Im sick of having to figure everything out on my own. I just needed somebody to love me. I still need someone to love me.”

“I can love you!” She tried to hold me by my shoulder and pressed a kiss to my forehead.

I shoved her back harder than I meant to. “Stop it. No you cant.” She stumbled over her heels.

“Get out.” she mumbled.

So I did. I didn’t want her to see me cry, and I didn’t want to see her cry. I actually liked somebody and they liked me, but I had to do it.

The second the chilly air hit my body and I closed the door, I broke out into sobs.

The dirt pathway crunched under my feet, the small rocks pressing into the bottom of my old nike shoes. Tears flowed down my face as i wiped them away harshly with my sweatshirt sleeve.

I walked up the single checker-tiled step to the light grey building, my hands shaking as I opened the light pink door. My siblings crowded around me, smiling and giggling. Silena, my twin sister, stood in-front of me, “Did you do it?”

“Yeah.”

It had been three months since I became, quote on quote, worthy to my mother.

I don’t think it made a huge difference, other than the fact the every time I saw the girl I just felt a massive amount of guilt instead of butterflies.

She seemed happy, she had friends and moved on to somebody else. thank the gods.

The campfire flames whisped around in the centre of the space, warming everybody around it. I sat on the dirt ground in in front of my sister while she braided my hair, talking to her and her friend.

“I just… I think it’s stupid that they can tell what we will miss the most on our plate! How do they know I really like mac n cheese?”

“Silena, what?” I giggled looking up at my sister, “Stop moving your head!”

The curly head spoke up, “Im sorry, but you’d miss macaroni over everything?”

“Oh my gods! Clarisse do you even know her?” I laughed, “One time when we were younger, she refused to eat anything other than macaroni for like 3 weeks straight!”

Silena hit me jokingly on the shoulder, as Clarisse poked at the girl.

“Hey, your hairs done.” I stood up from the ground and dusted the dirt off my pants. Silena smiled at me as I thanked her, “I’ll see you later, I’m gonna go back to the cabin.”

The girls waved and said their goodbyes as I left, but I wasn’t going back to my cabin.

I glanced around me and cut through the woods, trying to avoid anybody and everybody. The leaves crunched quietly under my shoes. The crisp air wrapped around my body, and I missed the fire already.

I found my usual place to sit, a large pile of rocks (close enough to the lake to hear the water, but far enough away for it to be peaceful). My hands gripped around the jagged rocks as I climbed up over a boulder, sitting in a crevice.

I opened up my small bag, pulling out a half-burnt joint and a lighter. I held it behind my hand to hide it from the slight wind and light the end, letting it fully light before holding it to my lips.

The smoke entered my lungs and went out, drifting into the fall air. “Thought I heard somebody up here.”

Clarisse stood there with her hands on her hips, smiling at me lightly. When did she get so pretty?

Her curly hair gleamed under the dull orange light, her eyes shining. “Well don’t just sit and stare. Give me it”

She sat down next to me, our sides touching as she leant over to grab it. I watched her every move, trying to figure out why people thought she was mean. I guess she had her moments, but she was a genuinely sweet girl.

“Clarisse?” i spoke lightly.

She mumbled in response, looking into my eyes. “Don’t tell Silena, please.”

“You know, she was so pissed off when she realized you weren’t at the cabin,” the girl giggled, “and then I convinced her you were just on a walk and she told me to go look for you.”

“So… thats why you’re here?” It was pretty straightforward, I don’t know why I was so confused. “Mhm, and now I know your secret spot.” She poked at my side, smiling at me.

“I guess it’s our secret spot, now.”

The curly head put the joint out on one of the rocks, watching it with such intensity.

She twiddled with it in her fingers while we sat in silence, for minutes that felt like hours. “Here.” She grabbed my hand and placed it on my palm.

She spoke. again, suddenly, “How do you look so perfect?”

“It’s an Aphrodite thing.” I replied as I shuffled around in my bag, placing the joint back into a pocket. “Why?”

“I just… you always look so… pretty. And your hair is like, perfect, and you have a really nice smile and perfect teeth.” She looked down at her hands as if she was embarrassed, which she probably was. She never compliments people, or cares for that matter. “I just don’t know how you do it. Do you feel pretty?”

“Yeah, I do. Clars, do you feel pretty?” I turned lightly to face her. She thought hard about the question

“I don’t know.”

I didn’t know what to say, or if I was even supposed to say anything. “Oh.” I put my arms out, and to my surprise she wrapped hers around me. “you’re so pretty,” i mumbled into her ear. My finger drew designs on her back, her orange shirt dragged around with it. “You’re so, so pretty.”

It was like her entire personality had changed in a split second as she pushed me away. “I got to go.” She stood up and left before I could even say anything.

My eyes were so heavy, and I never made it off that rock that night.

The rock pressed up against my body as I woke up, curled into a ball. My hair was tangled from the wind, my shirt was twisted in weird directions.

The morning dew covered my entire body which made my hair extremely frizzy. My sweatpants were pushed up to my calves, probably from rolling around in my sleep.

I stood up and stretched, yawning before grabbing my bag and rushing back to my cabin. As soon as I walked theough the door, Silena engulfed me in her arms. “Where have you been!”

“Sorry, I fell asleep and I just… it wont happen again.” I mumbled, looking down at my feet. My shoes were covered in dirt.

“It better not, I was so worried. We all were.” The brunette girl looked at me with her arms crossed, a stern motherly look plastered over her face.

“What time is it?”

She looked over at the small clock, “4 a.m.” I walked over to my bed and grabbed a jacket from the end. “I need to talk to Clarisse.”

I started towards the door again and she grabbed my arm and pulled me back. “Uhm, no!”

“That actually wasn’t a question.”

“I- just go.”

I smiled at her happily and left my cabin. After 5 minutes of walking, the Ares cabin cane into view. You cant just waltz through the door at 4 in the morning, so I found the window over her bed. I tapped the glass lightly, standing on my tiptoes.

Clarisse rubbed her eyes as she woke up, glancing over the me. She rolled her eyes at me then sat up, unlocked the window and slid it open. “What up?” she spoke tiredly.

“I know it’s really early, but you kind of just… like… left? She leant on the frame of the window, sitting criss cross on her bed. “Sorry, I never even said goodnight…”

“Yeah.”

Her smile wavered and fell as she spoke nervously, “Do you like anybody?

I rested my face in my hands, my elbows on the frame. “Mhm. Why?”

“I think you know why.”

I brushed her hair out of her face and tucked the curly behind her ears, playing with one of the strands. She cupped my face in her rough hands, smiling at me.

“Do you, like… I dunno.” she asked with a wavering tone in her voice, as if she was uneasy on her next sentence. “Can I… Uhm…”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I uhm… can I kiss you?” I nodded lightly at the girl before she pulled us together, our lips lightly brushing against one another before they locked together. She pulled away for a second before kissing me again, our lips moving in unison. Her fingers traveled through my hair, guiding my head as I leant further my over the window.

“Clars, You okay? Why’d you stop?”

“Give me a fucking second… Im really nervous.” I giggled at the girl before I pulled us back together again.

“Yeah, I can tell.” i spoke jokingly between kisses, before she pulled away from me entirely. “Come inside.”

“What?” I laughed. She wasn’t joking. “Yeah, just hop through the window.” She grabbed my hand and started pulling me in, falling back onto her bed.

She was pressed under me as we laughed, my face burrier in her neck. “Why is it so cold in here?”

She giggled at me, “the windows open.”

“Oh yeah.” I got off the girl and closed the window, sitting across from her.

She tossed a red sweatshirt at me, florida written across it in large letters. “Thanks,” i smiled at her.

I put it on over my shirt, laying down in a ball on her bed. “Hey, Clarisse?”

“Whats up?” She pulled me over to the head of the bed, wrapping her arms around me while we lied there.

“Can we keeps this a secret?”

“Yeah.”

#clarisse la rue #pjo #percy jackson #wlw

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groversimp · 3 months

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need “hits different”!😭😭😭

Hits Different

part one (Nothing Has Ever Felt So Wrong)

part two (Hits Different)

part three (The Way I Loved You) || not out yet!

part four (Foolish One) || not out yet!

decided to be a good author and answer these requests for Hits Different because it’s been FOREVER 😿

warnings: ANGST, bruh reader needs to stop mourning, also we’re bringing in an oc dude, I love love love Shiloh 😽

You hated Clarisse La Rue.

You hated her stupid her, her deep-brown eyes. You hated the scarred hands you once held in yours, the ones you used to cherish. You’d kiss her palms and tell her she’s not a monster. Not to you.

Yet, you were the one left burned. Scarred and blistering from the scalding touch of her soul.

Her and Silena sit on the benches only a few, short feet from you. Weaving bracelets together at their arts n’ crafts lesson, the initials of the other carved into the beads.

You mope with your siblings, firmly avoiding Silena’s pointed and snarky looks. She wasn’t a bad person, you knew that. She was just in love.

You were just in love.

It was sickening. You had tried and tried to wash yourself clean of her- to allow the flowing rain to make yourself new, but it only left you rugged and dripping, a walking storm cloud. The midnight rain you sat in did little to heal the gaping wound in your heart, beating like a war-cry of Clarisse’s.

“Hey, Y/N.” You hear a voice, smooth and soft like the cooling tide of the lake.

You’ve never really noticed Shiloh, the boy who had just approached you and taken the liberty to sit next to you. A son of the minor god, Dinlas.

Most would think he’d be rough and hateful, but he was honestly very sweet. Carrying himself with nothing but loyalty and understanding- though, the Greek-fire burned beneath his green eyes to not challenge him.

“Oh,” you say quietly. “Hey.” Your voice is just as soft, but quieter. You don’t take up any space, just uselessly flowing like a spring shower.

You two continued to talk, the fierce glare sent his way from Clarisse went unnoticed by him. And the butterflies you got from her two-second attention were too addicting to not give into. Spurring the conversation on and on, it almost felt natural.

He walked you back to your cabin, leaving you with a kiss on the cheek and a sinking feeling in your stomach. The cabin door quietly shut behind you- how dare you? He shouldn’t have been that close to begin with, now this?

You can almost feeling the punches Clarisse would throw at him, wincing at the idea of faux injuries.

Would she still do that for you, would she care?

You cared, you thought as you climb into your bed. Not bothering to clean up for campfire or looking up as your siblings file into the cabin.

The only thing that felt right was to sob into the stuffed bear Clarisse gave you for your 5-month anniversary. The weak punches your fist throws to the bed are pitiful; they’d make a puppy laugh. But, how can you bring yourself to be strong when you feel so deeply?

The bed dips and you don’t need to look up to know who it is- your sister, Astilbe, shushes you softly and places a hand on the small of your back. It reminds you of Clarisse, caring and possessive. You only cry more.

“Y/N,” she says- voice chipper as the morning birds, though the pity is evident. “Love is a lie, you’ll be alright.”

A sob wrecks through you again, almost like a quiet scream.

“She was good, Bee.” You tell her. “There was good in her.”

You pay no mind to her disagreements, only sitting up to place your face in the small of her neck and crying harder.

This wasn’t normal, this wasn’t right. You’ve aways been one to move on quickly, staining your exes with a maroon, star-painted sky. You leave with only the memories and their dignity.

That was who you are. Over-confident, ‘manic pixie dream girl’, draining Y/N.

But that’s why she loved you. Ever-burning, violent, dangerous Clarisse.

That’s why she chose you. Why you chose her.

You’d go insane if you kept thinking like this, but for her- you’d do it all.

#pjo fandom #pjo x reader #pjoverse #clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #pjo clarisse #clarisse pjo #percy jackson fandom

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freddie-77-ao3 · 2 months

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The Choice Was Mine (I Didn't Think Enough)

"No! No!" He screams, falling to the ground. "No! I don't want-- I don't want to see them! Let me go mad again! Please! Please! I can't face them!" His shrieks turn into sobs, and he curls into fetal position.

"Please, I can't-- I can't look them in the eyes. Lee's dead! He's dead, 'Risse, and-- and it's my fault! I swore fealty, I betrayed you, betrayed all of you! Don't make me face them! I'll die! I'd rather die! You-- you should have left me, should have let me die."

(In his mind, he pictures Mary again. Pictures them rip her apart. Over. and over. and over.)

"I wish you'd left me."

Or: after Mr. D cures Chris' madness, Clarisse tries to get him to face the camp again.

Don't Wake Me Up (Crazy Is Better Than Remembering) - Chapter One

Where is he, where is she, why is it so dark, what is happening, why, why, WHY?

Who is Mary, where is she, what happened, why is there red, what happened, why, why, WHY?

Why is he laughing, what is he doing, make it stop, make it stop, the earth needs to stop, it’s moving it is healing him, Mary Mary please Mary wake up

Why is her shirt red, it was white, why is she bleeding it’s so so dark is it day, is it night?

String string rope thread string cord labyrinth minos, what is happening why are you taking me, stop stop MARY PLEASE (Wake up!)

And the scar was illuminated it looks evil, his eyes were going to glow gold, what is that ship, who is he, who is he, WHO IS HE

Please Mary, please wake up, why won’t you wake up, I have to find you, its so dark, so so dark, he’s horrible Mary, so horrible, why did you leave WHY DID I LEAVE?

Who is she it needs to stop she needs to stop she touching me feeding me he held me down, Mary its so dark, he’s so evil, where is the string the string what is going on

Why are my hands red, why are her hands red, Mary where are you, why are you red, WHY AREN’T YOU BREATHING

What is happening it’s so dark where am I I keep moving where are you Mary mary who is she Mary were are you the earth was healing him he’s so horrible the son of Poseidon why was he doing that what was happening he has the thread

Thread cord string rope I need it he told me to get it why don’t I have it what’s in my hands why does he need it who is he

Who am I who is she where are you Mary where am I where is he and the son of the sea he was terrible he was red what happened

What happened what happened you were screaming Mary Mary Mary Mary

Mary Mary Mary Mary Mary Mary Mary Mary Mary Mary Mary Mary Mary Mary Mary Mary Mary Mary

Who is she, who is Mary

Mary?

Marcy, Mark, Marcie, Amy, Matt, Madge, Marge, Mack, Marie, Minnie, Minty, Mal- Mal- Mal- NO!- Mary???

Mary, Mary Mary, are you Mary,

Rhymes, there’s rhymes, Mary rhymes and red, and a white shirt and monsters why are there monsters what is going on

Monsters monsters monsters why do they exist what is it what why are they red why are they chasing me I can’t move my legs Mary is this what happened to you they’re chasing me, why aren’t they chasing you why aren’t you walking- running- why aren’t you leaving, why are you like this why are your arms like this, Mary please WAKE UP

No. Chris? Chris? Who is Chris? Chris, Chris, Chris?

Is he Chris?

He only remembers Mary.

"Why is your answer to everything violence, Clarisse?" Silena asks, exasperated, tired from prying her away from Michael yet again.

"When I told Castellan I was scared of the thing in the showers he gave me a sword," Clarisse crosses her arms. Beckendorf chortles behind Silena, and behind Clarisse, Chris is making the loco sign with his hand.

A good day. But he doesn't want to remember the good days. He wants to go back to remembering Mary's torn apart body and nothing else, wants to go back to voices in his head, not the voices of his friends. He'd betrayed them. He doesn't deserve this.

“Why the fuck do you even have an arrow that turns into a bouquet of roses in mid-flight!? And don’t say ‘aesthetic’!”

"Why the fuck wouldn't I? They're fun, aren't they, Will?"

"No! You know why, Mikey? Because I just had to spend three hours removing thorns from Clarisse!" Will always was a very cross eight year old. Especially since he'd been unclaimed at the time. Poor Will. If Chris was a better person, Will would have been the reason he turned to Kronos, but Chris had always been selfish.

"She wasn't meant to get in the way! I was trying to send them to Jake, Henri helped me make them." Michael looked so petulent and childish. Gods, he must have only been... 11 here? Five long, long years. He hadn't even reached four feet tall yet.

"That's not better!" Will's voice is squeaky, and he looks so annoyed right now. Chris remembers this. Lee had refused to hand out ambrosia, and Clarisse hadn't sat for a week. Her revenge had been swift, and Mikey's running futile.

Michael grumbles, crossing his arms. "Not trying to injure him, you worrywart. I was trying to see if he wanted to go into the city with me."

“Don’t go sucking my oranges!” Chris remembers this one easily. Michael had stolen all of Clarisse's oranges, and she had been furious. They were even younger here-- nine, maybe?

“You couldn’t think of anything better to say? Eating? Taking?” Michael taunts, juggling the last three.

"Fuck off, you-- you--"

"Aww, cat got your tongue?"

Clarisse lunged. Michael cackled, sprinting ahead of her. Chris looks away. He knows what's going to come right after this. Michael is going to sprint up onto Lee's shoulders, and Clarisse is going to accidentally tackle him trying to get Michael. Lee had been furious, and punishment swift. Clarisse and Mikey had had to clean the Hermes cabin by hand every week for months after that. Although, at least, that had been the key to bonding Clarisse and Michael together in anger, if not friendship.

Before that still, back to when Clarisse had first arrived at camp. Clarisse had been eight, and Will five. Chris had been at camp since birth (yet never claimed), and Silena had been a weekend camper on and off since she was five. Mikey came every once in a while for supplies, and Beckendorf was still unclaimed. He'd been excited to meet a new camper-- always was. At eight, Chris was one of the youngest year rounders, and the only one of his age. Silena was only weekends, and Beckendorf was always so studious. He'd mellow out eventually, but until then, Chris' closest friend had been Travis, which sucked, because they always had Connor. And Connor was a fucking talkative six year old. Sometimes Chris just wants to walk down to the gas station and not deal with getting kicked out because of Connor's insane questions.

So he's excited to meet the new camper, until Lee warns him that Clarisse isn't "a big talker" which sounds fine, and then Froggy adds "unless you count with her fists. That girl is violent. Ares through and through."

And that's. Well. Claimed already? No way someone that strong wants to spend time with Chris.

So 3 days later when she's out of the infirmary, and partners with him for capture the flag, he's over the moon. That is, until Chris realises she tied his shoelaces together. Fuckhead.

They'd been friends ever since though.

"Stop" he moans, "stop it. I don't want it. Don't make me remember."

He hears a quiet chuckle, but tries to retreat into his head again. He can't get better. Doesn't want to. Not after what he did to camp. To his best friends.

"Please," he moans, his voice hoarse, "please just let me die."

With that, there's a crack, and he's forced to open his eyes.

"Well we can't have that. No more little demigods dying this week."

He's peering up into the face of Dionysus. "Please, please let me go mad again. I don't deserve this."

And Mr. D doesn't even hesitate, "no can do, nephew mine. Your dad cashed in a pretty big favor for this one," at this, he snorts, "like I wasn't going to do it anyway. But what Hermes doesn't;t know won't hurt him."

Chris' mouth is dry. "Hermes? He's-- he's my dad?"

At this, Mr. D rolls his eyes, snapping his fingers again. "Course, kid." He looks to the ceiling, as if to say look what I have to put up with, but with a snap of fingers, Chris realises there's a symbol over his head. What the fuck.

Then, Mr. D says, "Now go back to sleep-- you'll be tired, and I want a drink."

Chris' eyes close. He wants to be mad. But he isn't. How is he going to-- to face camp?

#pjo #pjo hoo toa #pjo series #riordanverse #pjo fandom #chris rodriguez #chris pjo #clarisse la rue #clarisse pjo #michael yew #beckendorf #silena beauregard #mr d #dionysus pjo #botl #pjo botl #battle of the labyrinth

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gaeilgeoirgay · 2 years

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Whumptober 2021 Day Twenty Six

her deathbed confession

Clarisse is furious when she discovers what Silena has done. Her siblings are gone, her armour is missing and the war chariots are absent from their place. Silena, foolish girl, took Clarisse’s place and is leading Clarisse’s idiot siblings into battle. She is going to have a long talk with them about recognising their own damn sister when the battle is over.

Chris comes to stand by her side at the Pegasus stables and she can feel that he has something to say. She scowls at him and he sighs, ready to spit it out.

“We have to go to Manhattan. Your grudge isn’t worth staying out of this now. I know you feel like your cabin and siblings have been disrespected, and it’s true, but we’ve been building up to this battle for so long, Clar. Michael Yew is dead. Silena told me. Let your grudge die with him, and help our people, Clarisse.” He says, gentle but uncompromising.

Clarisse sighs. She hates it when she’s wrong, but Chris is right. They have to join the battle. She spares a silent prayer for Michael. Even though she hated the ferrety bastard, she would never wish death on a fellow demigod. And she won’t let Kronos win.

“Fine, but we’re taking my chariot. I’m not riding a Pegasus somewhere where Jackson can see me.” She says stubbornly and Chris smiles.

They hook up the chariot and get going as fast as possible, but it’s still half an hour at a pegasus’s top speed to get to New York and Clarisse doesn’t know how much of a headstart Silena has. She urges the pegasi as fast as they can go, just in case.

They see the damage as soon as they cross city limits, buildings streaked with rubble, statues toppled everywhere, unconscious mortals in the street. They see pockets of demigods fighting too, but the main commotion is just outside the Empire State Building.

There’s a godsdamned Drakon there and Clarisse abruptly remembers the prophecy about an Ares child killing one. Prophecies are tricky and the way this one was worded means that only an Ares kid can kill this monster. That’s where her siblings would’ve gone.

Sure enough, there are Ares chariots whirling around the drakon and demigods stabbing at it’s vulnerable spots. And there in Clarisse’s armour, is Silena, facing down the monster with Clarisse’s weapon and Aphrodite’s heritage and Clarisse doesn’t pray often but she’s praying now, not Silena.

She’s too late. She watches helplessly as the drakon spits acid and Silena falls and Clarisse hits the ground running, skidding to a halt next to her best friend, her beautiful face destroyed by the acid, and Clarisse knows this isn’t a wound Silena can come back from. Silena’s already dead, her heart is just waiting to catch up with the program.

Silena fishes out a bracelet and Clarisse’s heart stops. That symbol….. Silena is the spy. No, it can’t be true. But Silena says it is true, her deathbed confession, and Clarisse believes her. The dead have no use for lies.

Silena gasps out her final words. “Charlie… see Charlie.” And Clarisse breaks. She doesn’t break like you’re supposed to when your loved ones die. No, Clarisse isn’t sobbing, she’s pissed and hurt and grieving and Silena’s dead and it’s the drakon’s fault.

So she kills the drakon. She kills it like she’s supposed to and they save Olympus but there’s a gaping hole in her heart that spells out Silena.

Clarisse is so fucking tired of losing people. Her siblings, her friends, even her enemies. So many died in this war and so many were lost and it’s not fair. Life isn’t fair but Clarisse is a demigod and she’s supposed to be used to that but she just wants a break.

She wants to go watch the fireworks with Silena and Beck and Chris, hell even, Percy and Annabeth. But Silena and Beck are dead. But Chris can’t watch the fireworks because he took a wrong turn in the labyrinth once and he saw explosions and fire and it shattered his already fractured mind. But Percy’s smiles are only real when they’re directed at Annabeth. But Annabeth is grieving a monster they all loved once.

When they leave Olympus, the pyres burn for three days. Silena’s shroud is hot pink and it’s got Clarisse’s spear embroidered on it. Clarisse punches anyone who even whispers the word “traitor” and they get the message.

Clarisse watches Silena’s shroud burn and hopes that her friend has found happiness with Beck in Elysium. She could ask Nico, but she’s not sure if she wants to know how the Judges deemed Silena’s worth. So what if she was a traitor? She was one of the best people Clarisse knew, and now she’s dead.

When the pyres have burned out and the people have dissipated, Clarisse goes to the beach. Chris follows her and sits by her side, right where she needs him to be. And Clarisse cries. She sobs and it’s not pretty, but it’s real and raw and Clarisse is so fucking tired of losing people.

Chris holds her the whole time, shedding his own tears for the brother who had led them astray but had turned back to their people in the end. Not for the gods, but for the half-bloods, his reason for doing it all in the first place.

They sit there and cry for their sisters and brothers and siblings who will never get to grow up like mortal kids do. Who will live bright lives and die short deaths in the name of the gods that don’t care about them. Clarisse kind of gets Luke’s point now. She would never betray Camp like he did, but she understands. Maybe he was sick of losing people too.

(a month later, a frantic Annabeth calls a meeting and declares Percy missing. They try so hard to find him but they get a Zeus kid, and Aphrodite kid and a Hephaestus kid. The Aphrodite girl reminds her so much of Silena. Beck would’ve loved the Hephaestus boy. Clarisse just wants Percy to come home, because she’s tired of people leaving and she wants them to come back, just this once. The life of a demigod isn’t fair, but don’t they deserve peace for just a little while at least?)

(the gods say no)

#whumptober 2021 #clarisse la rue #pjo #silena beauregard #fanfiction

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stanning-reyna · 2 years

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The head counselors meeting had been going poorly, to say the least. Clarisse, as per usual, had already threaten to knock someone’s lights out. Travis taunted that he would happily take her up on that offer (Clarisse had rudely shot down one of his suggestions earlier), at which point Silena had to restrain the daughter of Ares. Percy hoped their other meetings had been more productive than this.

Things only got worse when Luke’s name was brought up. Since the Labyrinth, everyone at Camp had gotten into the habit of simply referring to him as Kronos. To no one’s surprise, Annabeth was the one to break this trend.

It had slipped out of her mouth during the meeting. Michael Yew had asked when Kronos would be making an appearance next, to which Annabeth firmly replied that they wouldn’t be seeing Luke for a while, that his body was still too weak from the transformation and he needed time to regain his strength.

The rest of the counselors looked around nervously, as if waiting for the grenade of his name to explode in the room.

Clarisse, of course, was responsible for that explosion.

“Oh, poor punk. I hope Luke feels like shit.”

There were a few hums of agreement from other counselors. Annabeth looked down at the table, her eyes glued to the bowl or chips in front of her, hands clasped tightly together in her lap.

To make it worse, Clarisse continued. “That’s what he gets for being a backstabbing-“

Silena put her hand over the girl’s mouth just in time to stop whatever profanity’s she planned on spewing next. They began a hushed argument, but Percy’s focus was drawn to where Annabeth sat, tears starting to stream down her face.

Noise erupted all over the table as more people got involved in the argument.

“She’s not wrong. Why should we defend him-“

“It’s not defending him to just not bring him up, you know.”

“I think plenty of us don’t want to hear his name again.”

Annabeth pushed her chair away from the table to leave. A leg got caught on the carpet and she half tripped as she stood up, making a beeline for the exit. The room quieted just enough to hear her sob before she reached the door.

Chiron cleared his throat, a feeble attempt at regaining order in the room. Percy was pretty sure he was the only one listening.

“Leave her be,” Chiron said as kids’ gazes followed in her direction. “We have more pressing matters to attend to.”

“What?” Conner and Percy spoke out in unison, the same look of disbelief on their faces. Neither of them had time to call jinx before Conner continued.

“She’s upset. Someone should comfort her.”

As much as Conner got on his nerves, Percy felt like they were on the same wavelength at that moment. Annabeth deserved a friend to be there for her when she cried.

Percy stood up, glaring towards Chiron as the centaur told him to sit back down. He reached the door the same time as Conner.

“Uh- go ahead,” he said, taking a step back.

Together they found Annabeth behind a shed in the strawberry fields, her eyes red. She got two sets of arms wrapped around her, and two boys offering her a tissue.

#this is what we mean by connabeth #annabeth deserves to have people care for her <3 #also chiron can suck it #percy jackson #heroes of olympus #pjo #hoo fandom #pjo fandom #hoo series #annabeth chase #pjo series #percy jackson and the olympians #percabeth #connabeth #connor stoll #pjo fanfic #annabeth chase fanfic #percy jackson fanfic

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missswag · 2 years

Text

Clarisse La Rue x fem!reader

The Red Bandana

(book based)

description: Chris never dated Clarisse and never returned from Luke’s side. Y/n and Clarisse had always had a hot and cold relationship and get into a fight over her not agreeing to fight in the war. They go with annabeth and the rest of the campers and go missing during war, later found…

(i do not own percy jackson nor any characters. also not my gif.)

—

(Before the war)

I almost want to slam my head on this table, Clarisse has been on me and my cabin about my father, Apollo, chariot. They had captured it in a battle but technically it’s mine and my Apollo siblings.

“You are disrespecting me and my cabin, y/n.” Clarisse says sternly, her face turning red the way it does when she gets really mad. I personally would let her have it but my cabin disagrees and i’m the head of the cabin for a reason, i represent my siblings…ever since Lee died last year. I was his second in command in a way. He taught me to fight, and unlike most people at camp he was my full brother. We both were taken to camp after a monster attacked us and my mom for the first time.

“Babe-“ I try to reason with her but she cuts me off. “Don’t even try to call me babe, your being a bi-“

Suddenly Silena jumps up and slams her hand on the table. “Can we please talk about something important, not over something silly when Charlie just-.” She stops and let’s out a small sob.

I look down at my hands, I wasn’t exactly friends with Silena. Clarisse was always the one who was friends with her, which is odd considering their the complete opposite. Usually I would get jealous over their friendship but Silena was with Beckondorf…or was. He was my friend, always was a great person to talk to. He usually was the main person who I would turn to after Clarisse and I fought.

A silent tear slid down my cheek, when I hear Clarisse say, “I apologize to only Silena.” I look up when she says this and we make eye contact. Then Clarisse threw her knife on the ping pong table before saying, “All of you can fight this was without Ares. Until I get satisfaction, no one in my cabin is lifting a finger. Have fun dying.” And then she left.

Some people looked at me, but I just sat there shocked. She wouldn’t? She-what about me? Does she not love me anymore? So many thoughts ran through my head I didn’t even notice Percy and Annabeth had already went and got the prophecy and read it.

I only was snapped back to reality when everyone started leaving and Connor tapped me on the shoulder. “Y/n…hey you leaving?” I look over and see Travis his brother standing beside him. I nodded slowly and got up from my chair.

Sometimes I start to overthink and suddenly my head gets filled with these nasty thoughts and it’s like I can’t shake them. I had to see Clarisse.

I knocked on the Ares cabin door, and waited a couple of seconds finally Nate, one of Clarisse’s half brothers opened the door before slamming it back closed. I rolled my eyes and knocked again.

After about 5 minutes of knocking the door opened and Clarisse came out and slammed it shut behind her and started stalking towards me making me back up.

“Clarisse we gotta talk.” I say with a sad voice, maybe it even quivered I don’t know. Clarisse just shook her head, “About what? The fact my own girlfriend, doesn’t even respect me enough to give me a chariot my cabin earned?” She asks angrily, almost enough to scare me.

I run my fingers through my hair frustrated, “It’s not my decision! My cabin they-“

“Mean more than me?” Clarisse asks. I stutter, I obviously love Clarisse more than anything but my siblings? My family?

“I-you-they-“ I can’t even get any words out which just seems to make her even angrier. She starts to storm away, so I grab her wrist. “Clarisse…” I trail off, she stops but doesn’t look at me.

“This is so stupid, this fight? We can’t turn on each other when war is just around the corner, and you and your cabin not fighting? You know we barely stand a chance as it is.” I say in a begging manor, actually no, I AM begging.

Clarisse just jerks her hand out if mine, “Then good riddance.” She says before storming away, and I let her. I feel tears pull in my eyes and a sob clawing away to be released. I hold it down and take a shuddering deep breath before walking back towards my cabin.

(right before the camp is about to leave.)

Clarisse and I haven’t spoken since…well, and Annabeth said we were to grab our weapons and armor and head to New York. Except I had to see Clarisse before I go, I mean…this could be it.

I knocked on her cabin door, the curtains on the window on the left side of the cabin are pulled back enough for me to see someone peeking at who would dare knock on their door. A couple of seconds later the door opens and Clarisse steps out. Her signature red bandanna tied in her hair and she’s wearing some loose jeans and a orange camp t-shirt.

She doesn’t say anything so I start talking, “Annabeth said Percy called her to meet her and us in Manhattan. We’re about to leave but i needed to see you.”

Clarisse looks unbothered and just raises a eyebrow, “Why?”

I give her a hurt look, “Because I love you…and I don’t know if i’ll make it home.”

Clarisse doesn’t meet my eyes, she just comes close enough to take her bandanna out of her hair and tie it around my wrist. She then backs away and shoves her hands into her pockets, “Good luck then.” She says before turning and going back into her cabin.

I stand there a second, she didn’t even say it back. Suddenly the bow in my hand feels heavier and the anxiety of knowing i’m going to war feels too real. I sigh and start jogging to meet Annabeth and the others at the entrance of the camp.

What I didn’t know is that Clarisse had stepped outside as soon as I left and broke down.

(Skip to the battle in new york)

Holy Zeus I never knew anyone could be this tired. It’s like every bone is aching inside of me. I see another monster charging, a hellhound. I barely have time to get an arrow and fire before it pounces on me, I close my eyes and wait for the end but feel a cloud of dust fall on me. I look up to see Connor with a sword pointed into where the hellhound was.

He bends down and sticks out a hand which I grab and he pulls me to my feet before plucking a sword from a dead demi god who had went to Luke’s side. “Maybe try this.” He says before handing it to me.

Sword’s weren’t my favorite weapon or the one I was best at but I agree they would be better in this situation. I nod at him before he starts charging another demi god traitor.

Another traitor demi god charges me but he’s smaller, no older than probably 12. I can’t even find it in myself to kill him so I smack the handle of my sword on the side of his head knocking him out. He hasn’t even hit the ground yet when I feel this intense pain in my abdomen. I look down to see the tip of a sword coming out of my stomach.

Suddenly it’s jerked out of me and I fall to my knees and roll over to see Chris Rodriguez, who I had never talked to at camp. I tried to say something, anything, but I could just sputter out blood.

Chris smiled at me in a cruel, sick grin before turning away from me leaving me to bleed out painfully. I stare up at the stormy clouds of New York City, I wish I could see the stars at least. I see a centaur get thrown into the building i’m near knocking the side of the wall into bite making the building slowly start tipping over.

The centaur gets up quickly and gallops away but I can’t move. I feel the bricks start falling on me and then I fall asleep.

3rd Person Pov

A drakon starts to rip through the Big Apple, spitting poison and crushing anything in its path. Some people run, some try their luck and charge the beast only to be met with a terrible death.

Almost hope is lost a girl in armor charging the Drakon with a new group of demi gods behind her also dressed in armor ready for a fight.

Finally when the girl is face to face with the drakon he spits his venom at her making her fall into the arms of Annabeth and other demi gods. Suddenly another girl comes riding in a flying chariot with a electric spear charging the Drakon and jumps onto his head before stabbing the beast in its eye with so much force the spear broke.

Clarisse jumped off the drakon before it disappeared into dust. Running to the injured girl, Annabeth finally jerked off the helmet. It was Silena, her once beautiful face was now covered in poison and she lay dying.

“Why did you do that?” Clarisse asked her eyes raining with tears. “Only…way….to get campers to…follow.” Silena says.

“So you stole my armor and pretended to be me?” Clarisse asked in disbelief. Silena nods slowly, “This is all my fault…charlie…”

Clarisse shushes her, “Don’t say that.” But Silena opens her head to show a bracket with Kronos’s symbol on it. Percy looks at Silena shocked, “You we’re the spy.”

Silena nods, “Before Charlie…Luke was so nice to me…and I wanted to stop after awhile but he threatened to tell…he lied to me…so this is all my fault i’m a traitor ” She says tears escaping her eyes.

Clarisse caressed her cheek, “No, you’re a hero.” And then Silena passed. Everyone felt her loss, but she was reunited with Charlie.

Clarisse rose from her friends body and wiped her tears before looking around and noticed her girlfriend wasn’t in the crowd. “Where’s Y/n?” Nobody said anything, so Clarisse turned to Percy.

“I don’t know.” Clarisse feels this aching pain in her heart, “Does anyone know?” She asks her voice trembling. Connor Strolls steps forward.

“Last I saw her she was fighting Chris Rodriguez.” He said sadly. Suddenly a roar of monsters coming toward them made them turn back to the battle, Clarisse grabbed her helmet and a sword before running to find her girlfriend.

Y/n Fletcher could be anywhere with the dead bodies lying everywhere on the streets, and Clarisse’s heart broke every second she couldn’t see you.

But what hurt the most was when she barely saw a hand sticking out of the rubble with a red bandana tied to it, and if you’d look close enough you’d see it colored a more blood red.

Clarisse held back a sob and started to slowly dig y/n out, the rough brick slicing into her hand but she didn’t care. A whole war going on around her and she still didn’t care. All that mattered to her is that y/n was hurt.

Finally after throwing several bricks away she could see her face, her still hard face. Clarisse kept digging until her girlfriends whole body was uncovered. The place where she had gotten stabbed still oozing blood but it was clear, she was dying.

Clarisse held y/n’s face in her hands and when she couldn’t feel a heartbeat she let out a sorrowful scream enough to shake Hades himself. People didn’t even have to see the body, it was clear. Y/N Fletcher was dead.

——

end note: i DID NOT see myself ending it this way but oh well. i love a good heart ache. but let me know if you want a alternate ending to this and i’ll add one on. hope u enjoyed

#clarisse la rue #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #percabeth #annabeth chase #clarisse la rue x reader #romance #angst #war #apollo

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bipercabeth · 4 years

Note

48 for percabeth! I hope u feel better about the show

Annabeth has known that Percy was going to die from the moment she met him. Four summers. Best case scenario.

Twelve-year-old Annabeth wasn’t particularly concerned about falling in love with the trouble-making son of Poseidon who drooled in his sleep. Freshly sixteen Annabeth sometimes wishes she had opted for the quiet life some children of Athena prefer: strategize, keep your head down, live a comfortable and unremarkable life. She hardly would’ve crossed paths with Percy outside of the occasional class or Capture the Flag. He and Grover could’ve found someone else to be their best friend, or maybe they would’ve bonded as a pair. And Annabeth would have kept her distance from Percy in the name of self-preservation, knowing they would only have four bittersweet summers together at best.

The summer before the Titan War is not the best case scenario. Percy is hardly ever at camp except for quests and Kronos-related meetings. He chooses to spend what they both know is his last of their four measly summers away from Annabeth. Grover is nowhere to be found, Thalia is with the Hunters, Luke is hosting the Titan Lord, and Annabeth feels more like a scared little girl than she has in a long time. At least she isn’t the runaway. That title fell to Percy.

It feels like an insult to Annabeth’s love for Percy to wish they hadn’t met. She is so much better for having loved him. For loving him—present tense. But she says this while he’s still here. His smile may not be directed at her that often, but he still smiles. Sometimes Annabeth can even stomach the jealousy of Rachel being the cause of that smile, because at least someone is giving him joy before this all goes to shit. When it does, maybe Annabeth will understand what it means to wish him away, if only to end the pain of having known and lost a person like Percy Jackson.

The feeling isn’t new. Annabeth’s gut has twisted in previous conversations where someone would bring up high school and college plans. Percy would talk animatedly about getting his license at sixteen, and Annabeth was left with a dry mouth she could not twist into a smile. He would beam at Beckendorf’s plans to attend NYU in the fall and make the older boy promise to swing by Sally’s sometime. Even Beckendorf, who had never heard the full Great Prophecy, could not stop the microexpression of pity.

When Annabeth first heard the prophecy, it was too much for her ten year old mind. There was no face to connect to the doomed fate, no cursed blade to reap the hero’s soul. Sometimes her young brain conjured an image of Thalia, but that was a nightmare of its own. Every night, Annabeth would watch Olympus fall at the hands of someone she hoped never to know.

She still gets those nightmares, only the visuals have improved. Percy is in every single one of them, saving or razing Olympus depending on the night. He never survives. You cannot outrun fate. Annabeth has tried.

Still, she is a daughter of Athena, and Athena always has a plan. When Percy dies, Annabeth will fall to pieces. In a lucky string of events, she might fall alongside him. It’s a war, after all. But she has a sneaking suspicion that she will outlive him. She has a plan for this as well. The shroud they made when he was stranded on Calypso’s island was nice and communal, leagues ahead of the one the Ares cabin shroud that still makes Annabeth’s blood boil. But deep in her soul, Annabeth knows that she alone will make his shroud. Just as she’ll burn it; just as she’ll care for Sally in his stead; just as she will lay blue roses on his headstone every time she’s in the neighborhood; just as she’ll be there for Grover, for Clarisse, for all of camp when he’s gone. She will do it alone. Annabeth held the sky, once. She will shoulder this as well. How much heavier could losing her best friend be than the weight of the world? In her anticipation, they feel the same.

She will build a monument for him, something to last the ages as he was supposed to, as permanent as the love he has given her. It will overlook the gods on Olympus, a reminder of the boy they failed. The boy who was too good for them all. Regardless of how the war goes, this will always be true.

He was never built to last. Nothing good ever can, and he’s been burning the candle at both ends for a while now. He was meant to burn bright, not long.

Annabeth sits in the dark of the Big House rec room, the only quiet space now that camp is in full war preparation. Well, the only quiet space apart from the beach, but Annabeth knows the smell of salt air and the sound of waves will be her undoing. That is another key feature of her plan: never go to the ocean again.

She curls her knees into her chest, feeling every inch the child that she is. But children are not supposed to have plans for their best friend dying. Children are not supposed to have their first kiss out of fear that said best friend will die before their four summers are up.

The door opens, throwing the room into harsh shadows and blinding light.

“Um.” Annabeth can’t see who’s talking, but she’d know his voice anywhere. “Chiron said there was a war council meeting today.”

She raises a hand to block out the light and give her eyes time to adjust. “Yeah, later.” To Annabeth’s horror, her voice is hoarse. Her throat is clogged with tears.

Percy’s sneakers stop shifting in the carpet. “Are, uh... are you okay?”

He sounds hesitant to ask, like he’s expecting vitriol to spew from Annabeth’s mouth. And, in fairness, sometimes it does. But Annabeth doesn’t have vitriol in her right now. The awareness that she does not have many days left with Percy is painfully acute. To spend them angry feels like a waste.

“No, I’m not.” By now her eyes have adjusted to the light, and she looks at him through bleary eyes.

Percy stills when he sees her face, looking ready to bolt. He points to the door. “Do you want me to...?”

Annabeth sniffles. “I don’t want to be alone.”

What breaks her is how quickly he is by her side. For all their faults, it is the one thing she can count on. As long as she lets him, Percy will come to Annabeth when she’s hurting.

She doesn’t tell him how deeply that statement is carved into her, that she is carved from loneliness the same way he is carved from guilt—the pitfalls of pride and loyalty.

A kid carved from loneliness cannot plan to be held the way that Percy holds Annabeth. Such a selfless love was unfathomable as a little girl; how could she ever have accounted for it? He just... holds her. He doesn’t try to talk or look at her face. He’s just there, unwaveringly. It kills Annabeth to know he won’t always be. It hurts to be with him, but it will hurt so much more to be without him.

The dam breaks, and Annabeth sobs into Percy’s shoulder. He’s taller than her now, grown only to be cut down young. Still, he is steadfast, grounded, secure in his roots. The way a towering oak has no reason to fear a chainsaw until the cutting has already begun.

“You’re my best friend,” she tells him, because she’s not sure she’s ever said it and it’s something he deserves to hear. “No matter what, you’re my best friend.”

Percy strokes a gentle hand along the back of Annabeth’s head. “And you’re mine,” he assures her. He doesn’t say you’re my best friend too. Just you’re mine. As if the fact doesn’t haunt her. She is his, irrevocably.

A gentle knock at the door interrupts them. Annabeth recognizes Silena’s quiet footfalls and almost withdraws from Percy, but he makes no move to.

Silena’s voice is soft, not smug like Annabeth expects. “War council in fifteen. Figured I’d give you two a heads up.”

Annabeth meets her eyes over Percy’s shoulder. “Thanks.”

The older girl ducks her head in something resembling shame. “It’s the least I can do.” She leaves.

“How much longer?” Percy asks when the door clicks shut. It isn’t an impatient question. In fact, Annabeth doesn’t know exactly what he’s asking.

She gives an honest answer. “However long we have left.” And the sun begins to set on the fourth summer.

#ANYWAY THIS IS BECAUSE OF JERSEY'S FIC WHICH HAS HONEST TO GOD FUCKING BROKEN ME #I HAVE A LOT OF FEELINGS ABOUT ANNABETH KNOWING PERCY WAS PROPHECIZED TO DIE THIS WHOLE FUCKING TIME #SHE HAD NIGHTMARES SINCE SHE WAS TEN! I'M WOUNDED #drabbles #my fic #my percabeth #pjo fics #jersey tag #iris messages #anon

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firerose · 3 years

Text

It always hurts

Angstpril 24 : Goodbyes

Clarisse knew pain. She had experienced it both physically and mentally.

But the daggers that were piercing her heart right now were worse than any other time she had suffered. Clarrise sat still at the campfire, her siblings around her. She barely registered their hands on her shoulder, her eyes were focused on the person who had hurt her like this. The person who had died without her allowing it.

Silena Beauregard. The daughter of aphrodite was covered by a beautiful white shroud that was held by three of Silena's siblings. Clarisse felt the urge to run to them and rip the shroud open. She wanted to see her best friend, the girl with her long wavy black hair and deep warm eyes, she wanted to see her one last time. Clarisse knew that Silena would soon be gone forever and this knowledge let the daggers burn.

There were other shrouds held by others but she somehow could not think about them.

How had it come to this? Why hadn‘t she been able to save her?

Her pride had for her father had been so strong but now she hated him with every cell in her body. Silena had often told her that she would have loved to be her half-sister but Clarisse was sure she had only said that to make her happy. Silena had done so much to make her happy.

The flames reached for the shroud-like hungry demons of fire. She wished they were monsters that she could slay like the drakon.

She suddenly heard a long agonizing sob and turn her head towards the sound.

Will Solace now head of the apollo cabin and a boy that was only nine, stood shaking in front of his brothers and sisters. His eyes were wide and so full of pain that her own heart ached. She had forgotten that there were other victims of the war.

She felt a wave of guilt wash over her.

How could a daughter of war not remember all of the fallen?

Clarisse stood up like in trance.“Clarisse what are you doing ?“, Chris asked her in concern but she just touched his shoulder and hoped that accepted this answer.

She passed the Campers who looked at her in surprise. She prayed the burning of the shroud had stopped too. She had to see her friend leave even if it hurt.

The boy's siblings just gave her a short glance when she stepped next to their young leader. He stopped crying when she lay a hand on his shoulder.

“It hurts doesn‘t it?“, She aks knowing that it is tactless of course it hurt, losing a loved one always hurt

.The boy turns towards her his blue eyes glittering with tears, she wonders why her own are dry.

“I don‘t want him to be gone.“, Will said in a small voice full of desperation.

Clarisse did not have to ask. She had noticed that Micheal yew was not here.

Her heart broke when she realized that Wills words could very well be her own.

She did not want Silena to be gone either. They had spent months laughing about their boyfriends, talking about their worries. All those months and now she would never be that happy again.

Clarisse carefully pulled Will closer and he leaned into her hug.

The daughter of war and the son of the sun turned towards the flames and finally the people they had loved burned in the flames. Clarisse heard Wills cries but she was unable to comfort him. Her whole body burned and with a cracking voice, she whispered words that she wished her friend would hear.

“ Goodbye Silena you stupid aphrodite girl. One day we‘ll meet again and then I will give you all the love you showed me.“

Will and she stood there until the fire had burned out until the others were gone. That was the moment when Clarisse finally allowed herself to cry.

Also on ao3

I love to write about angst <3, I would be greatful for feedback :D

@chaos-company @emilydaughterofapollo, @perseusjackson-jasongrace @fictionalnormalcy

#percy jackson #the last olympian #tlo #clarisse la rue #clarisse x silena #silena beauregard #will solace

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cuquitalocita · 3 years

Note

hi! love your writing and it said you were looking for prompts :) maybe do an emotional hurt/comfort percabeth after tlo?? touch starved annabeth and soft percy are just something that can be so personal

AN: yeah this one hurt and i am... SO sorry

“Alright, Ares! Let’s do this!” Cheers followed Clarisse’s voice as the game of capture the flag began and campers sprinted off in the direction of the forest sporting their bright blue and red helmet. Percy smiled a little, glad that at least some of the campers seemed to be having fun so soon after the war. Chiron and Mr. D had quickly agreed that things needed to go back to normal as soon as possible- Chiron said it would be easier to adjust that way, and Mr. D said he couldn’t handle any more crying campers. Charming, that one.

“You coming Percy?” one of the younger campers asked as he passed him, and Percy shot him a friendly smile- attempting to not be as intimidating as he knew the younger campers thought he was.

“Sure thing, I’ll be there in a sec. Don’t beat the Ares kids too bad, eh?” The camper laughed and scampered off, his smaller sword clattering against his massive battle armor as he ran. The nostalgia that the sight brought had a lump growing in Percy’s throat that he quickly shoved down.

Something felt different today- he didn’t know what… but something was off. It didn’t help that the gods had been unusually quiet as of late. And with the new prophecy, he and Annabeth had heard only a few short weeks ago…

Annabeth.

He hadn’t seen his favorite blonde since breakfast this morning, assuming she was back in the Athena cabin doing some more research on Deadalus’s laptop or- knowing her- trying to figure out the new prophecy.

But it was the end of the day now, the sun was going down over the lake and Percy had yet to see his girlfriend again. He made his way through the camp- empty now that capture the flag had started, only coming to a stop when he heard the unmistakable sound of familiar sniffling. He was in front of the Hermes cabin, one of the places he had been avoiding for the last couple of months, and turned only to see Annabeth Chase sitting on the ground, her knees pulled to her chest and her head turned downwards.

Percy couldn’t remember the last time he had seen Annabeth cry. Maybe it had been at the end of the war when Luke…

“Annabeth?” Her head shot up in response, the arm that was wrapped around her knees immediately flying to the dagger that lay at her waist. She moved jerkily, so unlike Annabeth that Percy definitely knew something was wrong. But as her gray eyes met his green ones, Percy saw the pure desperation that lay in them.

“Percy,” she breathed, her voice shaky. “Shouldn’t you be in the woods?” Percy tried for a small smile as he sat down next to her and leaned back on his palms. He felt more than saw Annabeth lean her body slightly towards him as if he were a beacon of safety. Like what she was to him.

“I came back to look for you. Are you okay?” The look Annabeth shot him from behind her curls told him that she very clearly was not okay. He winced a little at the familiar storm in her eyes. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Annabeth took a deep breath and when she released it sounded shaky. Percy couldn’t help but put his arm around her, grateful when she leaned in and placed her head on his shoulder. It was weird- the whole touching thing. They had touched as friends before, but things were different now. A good difference, just… strange in a way.

He tried not to make it obvious how much he was overthinking as he allowed his fingers to twirl one of her sunny curls around in a fidget.

“It’s his birthday today,” she finally said after a long pause of silence. “Or- it would be. He’d be twenty-one.” Annabeth let out a harsh laugh and Percy tried to ignore the shiver that went down his spine at how cold it sounded. “Twenty-one. Can you imagine? Luke, going to a bar and legally being able to buy a drink. He hated alcohol. But I guess things have changed since then huh?”

Percy didn’t know what to say. In the years since he had come to camp, not once had they acknowledged Luke’s birthday. And he hadn’t once thought about how Annabeth, Thalia, and Luke may have celebrated when they were younger. Percy pulled her closer and squeezed her shoulder, hoping that he could convey exactly what he was feeling.

Percy let out a breath. “And then there’s Charlie’s birthday next month. Silena’s present for him is still in the Aphrodite cabin.”

Faces flashed in Percy’s mind of black hair and strong arms, blue and gold eyes, and eyepatches. Of kids who were just that- kids when their lives were taken from them. When they were ripped away from everything they ever knew. When monsters hunted them until their dying breath. When they grew sick of being overlooked by the very same people who were supposed to be the ones protecting them. When they died for a corrupt cause

Kids. All of them.

“Gods, when did things go so wrong for all of us?” Annabeth was crying again, thick tears streaming down her beautiful face as her body shook with sobs. But Percy was almost crying too now. Crying for his friends, crying for his father, crying for his life. Because he barely had any of it.

Percy pressed his nose to Annabeth’s hair, hoping she could hear him when he whispered, “I miss them too.” Annabeth had turned her face to his neck and in any other situation, her curls might have tickled him. But as she placed her hand on the small of his back, his Achilles heel, his one weakness, he felt nothing but the familiar comfort that only Annabeth could give him. The same comfort that hadn’t faded since their first day of capture the flag.

“But… Annabeth,” Percy’s voice was calmer now- steadier. “If we don’t live now, everything they did- everything they sacrificed, will be for nothing.” An image of the younger camper scurrying into the forest, his face alight with hope and excitement flashed through Percy’s mind. “Because Annabeth- we made it. We’re alive. And we’re here.” And he would be damned if he allowed the girl in front of him to give up when she had so much to offer the world. He wasn’t sure the world would even be able to handle an Annabeth Chase. But he was going to make sure he would find out. And thinking about it, he knew Luke would want the same thing.

Annabeth had taken her head off of his shoulder and was looking up at him, her gray eyes shining with something Percy knew his own eyes were mirroring.

“Percy I…” But the look on her face was enough. He nodded

“I know. Me too.”

Percy had lost track of the amount of time they had sat there when Annabeth nuzzled her nose close to his neck. It tickled a little and this time Percy allowed himself a small laugh as he heard her inhale. He just hoped he didn’t smell like gross seawater.

“Making sure I don’t stink Wise Girl?” he asked, looking out at the setting sun.

“No,” she replied quietly. “Just… making sure you’re still here.” If possible he hugged her even tighter.

“Hey,” he tried to choke out a laugh as he pressed a kiss to her hair. “What’s Wise Girl without her Seaweed Brain?”

And he could’ve sworn the earth shook as he whispered, “I’m not going anywhere.”

um... yeah... hehe :)

#percy jackson #annabeth chase #percabeth #PJO #percabeth fic #luke castellan #silena beauregard #tlo

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chironshorseass · 2 years

Text

ANNUAL WRITING SELF-EVALUATION

thanks melissa @estrangedlestrange for tagging me! ok *cracks knuckles* i guess we’re doing this

1. number of stories posted to ao3:

23……someone fucking restrain me pls

2. word count posted for the year:

165,511

i’m crying what is this😭😭😭😭😭😭

3. fandoms i wrote for:

pjo

4. pairings:

percy/annabeth

clarisse/silena

annabeth/reyna

poseidon/sally. (these are the main ones, i think)

5. story with the most…

kudos: Just Add Water

bookmarks: Just Add Water

comments: also Just Add Water el oh el

6. work i’m most proud of (and why):

it’s a tie between it feels so scary, getting old and the vine hanging over the door (both of them with titles taken by a lorde song💀) because i feel like i was so at peace with myself when i wrote them, and when i’m at peace with myself i just write like fjakdjasjsjsjsisnsk that bc i can’t stop and pure gold comes out <3 it’s a mix of nostalgia and pride of what i created. also they both have very specific aesthetics and Existential Themes that scream mari bc ofc they r my babies xxx

7. work i’m least proud of and why:

through the ruse i just feel like it’s a bit of a mess and i didn’t plan it properly nor did i make it interesting enough for me to keep going🤨 i really like the concept, though esp since during that time i kind of really wanted a bridgerton au. but like, i honestly don’t think i’m NOT proud of anything i’ve written (idk maybe) but that doesn’t mean i won’t cringe once in a while when i reread something i wrote lmaooo

8. share or describe a favorite review received:

there are plenty i’ve kept close to my heart but taylor miss @posallys gives the best reviews, and i’m still recovering from the one i got in the vine hanging over the door 😭😭😭 and this other one she wrote for the seaweed is always greener that had me dying eye-

also bonjobiggles idk if u have a tumblr but all ur comments are so sweet and gave me motivation to write more<3 like EXCUSE ME someone rereading my fic is just😭 also ash @skaterannabeth had me screaming crying after she left a comment on it feels so scary, getting old lov u <33 and how can i forget @jeanjacket-lesbian every time u comment my heart kinda goes like💗💗 one that had me sobbing tho was from an anon (for it feels so scary, getting old) bc wth how DARE u say such things and think it will be ok😭

9. time when writing was really, really hard:

i’d say most of the time but y’all will think i’m such a clown bc i literally have THIRTY works on ao3 and that is very much illegal but I SWEAR!!!! it’s so fuckin hard to write, like i feel like i can never finish things and my motivation comes and goes, and so does life so🤠🥲🥲

11. a favorite excerpt from your writing:

Their laughter carries on like music as the wind dances around its melody, drifting it up, up into the starry sky. (from it feels so scary, getting old haha typical😗)

tho i feel like anything from magnificently cursed bc i say so: But it was more than just the horror that connected them. In the vibrancy of Olympus, it felt like they were creating the beautiful moments, too. They’d become a luster that outshined the rust in their thread of life.

12. how did you grow as a writer this year:

dude i’ve improved so much it’s crazy. in 2020 when quarantine started and i also started writing fic it was like. my first time in a looong time of writing something in english and i had to search up so many words and shit but now…..it all comes like the tears of jesus istg lmaooo. i also feel like this year i really honed in my writing style, because in 2020 it was all over the place i’m sure, and now i can truly say that i have a specific way of writing (correct me if i’m wrong bc maybe it’s just me since m i’m a clown)

13. how do you hope to grow next year:

i’m copying annie bc i need to finish all my wips so i never write fic again i am BEGGING

14. who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):

clown car (my frens) bc coincidentally they are all amazing writers and i love them very much. syd @annabethsinvibilitycap tho u make me especially evil and give me the silly little motivation to go unhinged in my writing 😛 as for other motivations, i think reading other works, fanfic or books and hmmm when folklore and evermore came out it was over for me so 💃🏽 also when i started listening to mitski

15. anything from your real life show up in your writing this year:

when sally kinda contemplates life as she watches the trash fly around during august (the vine hanging over the door.) yeah that was hashtag me too😔✌️ but yeah if u mean existential dread and all that good stuff it’s taken from my real life <3 and mostly the beginning of purple pink skies was 100% taken from my life haha….

16. any new wisdom you can share with other writers:

read lots of books lol i swear every time i do writing is so much easier bc im reminded of how words are supposed to um. work. and never write something you find slightly boring. just create the weirdest plot line or whatever, as long as it’s interesting to YOU and it’s fun to write for YOU and no one else.

17. any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) this year:

finishing any of my (existent) chapter fics bc i need them to stop haunting me in my sleep😭

18. tag some writers whose answers you’d like to read. (totally not required to do this y’all I always hate when things say you gotta do it):

@posallys @annabethsinvibilitycap @skaterannabeth and anyone who hasn’t done this feel free<33

#writing #❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥#i’m lowkey a bit insane for writing so much when i SWEAR i NEVER write it jaír sometimes happens

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bisexual-in-every-fandom · 4 years

Text

flower crowns - clarisse and will

clarisse is eleven and will is seven

clarisse la rue was scared.

she didn’t show it, but she was. she didn’t know what being a demigod meant. how her father was ares. how she was expected to be this mean jerk just because she was an ares kid. it upset her.

clarisse was wandering the camp. she was thinking about what being a demigod meant. it was dangerous. was her mom in danger? was she? clarisse thought that the camp was safe. why were there monsters in the woods if the camp was safe?

she stopped at a meadow near the strawberry fields. flowers bloomed everywhere. they covered the grass and over the hills.

there was a big oak tree that was providing shade. it was providing shade for someone.

a boy, he looked around seven was sitting under the trees shade, picking flowers. he had golden blond curls that curled around his ears. his face was tan and covered with freckles.

clarisse walked over to the boy.

“hi,” she said to the boy, sitting next to him.

he looked up. his eyes were a pale blue with gold flecks in them. they were filled with intelligence and curiosity. clarisse wanted blue eyes, maybe it would make her prettier.

“hi.” he said back. “i’m will.”

“clarisse,”

will closed his eyes as if inhaling her words. “clarisse.” he murmured under his breath. “in my head, i see colors when i hear words and sounds, it’s called sythenstia. your name is beautiful. it’s like a leaf in the sunlight. green with a hint of gold.” he smiled at clarisse.

that comment made clarisse feel good. this boy had told her that her name was pretty, that made clarisse feel like she was leaping into the air.

like she thought she was beautiful, just like her name.

the chatted for what must have been hours. clarisse learned that he was a son of apollo and his mom was a famous singer. he was from texas. how he was head healer even though he was so young.

clarisse didn’t notice what he was making until he gave it to him.

“here.” will said, placing a flower crown into clarisse’s hands. “i have to go, see you around clarisse!” and he skipped off towards his cabin.

clarisse got up too, and she walked to her own cabin.

she didn’t realize she was still holding the flower crown until the head of the cabin, shawn, pointed it out.

“clarisse, you going soft!?” he teasing pointing to the flower crown.

she threw the crown on the floor, though it pained her. “no! i don’t know how i got that!”

but she couldn’t shove the guilt down.

clarisse is fourteen and will is ten

“clarisse you really have to stop getting into fights!” will scolded. clarisse cowered. she shouldn’t be afraid of a ten year old healer, but she was, she disappointed him.

she thought of jackson and how he had doused her in water. it made her angry.

“sorry kid.” she replied.

will pursed his lips and nodded.

clarisse is fifteen and will is eleven

getting asked to go on the quest was scary.

clarisse looked over at will, his face was hard to read, but she could tell he was scared. scared the she would get hurt. clarisse couldn’t disappoint will.

clarisse is sixteen and will is twelve

lee fletcher was dead.

clarisse had made a promise to protect will, but she was scared that she would break him. she remembered the painful thought of percy telling will that lee had died.

it filled clarisse with anger, she should be the one telling will how his brother was a hero and would be remembered forever. she remember him crumbling to the ground sobbing and crying.

clarisse helped him up and took him to the meadow.

wills eyes were filled with sadness. his face was hard to read as clarisse picked flowers, making them into a misshapen flower crown.

they say in silence before clarisse handed him the crown and he gave her a soft smile. will took the crown in his hands and held it.

clarisse is seventeen and will is thirteen

clarisse was mad at micheal yew.

she was hoping he’d be in the infirmary so she could beat him up, instead she found will.

clarisse stood still for a second before approaching the boy. she forgot the rivalry, because will looked like he needed help.

he was whimpered and breathing hard. he pulled at his curls. will looked like he was trying to take deep breaths but he couldn’t.

he was having a panic attack, clarisse realized.

“will” she said softly. her voice was always gentle with will. “hey.” clarisse touches his arm.

will squeezes her arm as if he was falling. “i can’t do this anymore.” he sobbed, his eyes still closed.

“you can will, you’re the bravest person i’ve ever met.”

he whimpered and put his head on her shoulder.

- titan war -

silena was dead.

clarisse was furious.

micheal was dead.

clarisse just couldn’t stop killing things.

suddenly a terrible thought made her freeze in her tracks.

“clarisse?” it was ellis. he had his dog, roxie by him. roxie was going to help look for the missing. “are you okay.”

“yeah, take roxie and find the missing.” ellis nodded curtly and ran off.

is will dead?

- after the war -

will solace wasn’t dead.

clarisse ran into him with full force and squeezed him, and he squeezed back.

#clarisse la rue #will solace #micheal yew #lee fletcher #CLARISSE AND WILL ARE FRIENDS #u cant change my mind #battle of manhattan #the last olympian #ellis wakefield #silena beauregard

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miraclesnail · 5 years

Text

Writer’s Month Day 12: Dreams

Fandom: PJO

Summary: 1000 ways to tell the Stoll brothers apart and I can name you one. Clovis - Dreams

Content Warning: bullying

Clovis — Dreams

Mid The battle of the labyrinth

“You think this is going to last? That he’ll be here forever?”

Running. He’s running.

“War is a terrible thing.”

He can’t breathe. His sides ache.

“It just takes and takes and takes.”

Where is he running? There’s nothing here. It’s all ruins.

“It doesn’t discriminate. It doesn’t judge.”

There’s nobody here. Where is he? He’s always here with him.

“It just takes.”

It’s raining. Pouring. Torrenting.

“It takes and takes and takes till it can take no more.”

And around the corner, there’s his brother. He’s standing (alive) and talking (alive) and smiling (alive) but there’s a girl with him. She’s holding a knife.

She’s holding a knife and it’s pointing at him.

Stop laughing.

Don’t you see the knife? Don’t you see she’s about to hurt you?

Hello? Hey?

hey?

hey.

HEY.

Hey, pay attention, T—

“Who knows it might just take him too.”

—

Clovis’s eyes fly open and he goes automatically for his handy dandy trash can.

But fortunately, this is not one of the dreams that upsets his tummy and Clovis rolls back over to his back.

He stares at the dark canvas of the upper bunk bed. He glance at the digital clock on the night table. 2:45 am.

A nightmare.

He had a nightmare.

Gods, he hates nightmares.

He sighs.

Lately, that’s all they been getting. It shouldn’t be a surprise. If anything, it should be getting worse and worse as the war goes on.

He closes his eyes and roll onto his side and tries not to listen to the squeaking of a bed, the creaking of a ladder, the shuffling of clothes, and a voice— wobbly and weak— in the stark silence.

“Travis? Are you awake?”

“Mmphhmmmmpppp.”

“I had another dream.”

“Ya wha? Whas it abou’? Do ya need so’ alo’ time?”

“It’s just the usual dream. Can I sleep with you tonight?”

A bed groans. The ladder creaks some more and bed sheets rustle.

Then silence.

And Clovis stops trying to not listen.

“Again and again… how long is this going to go on before you realized joining me is the best choice?”

He have this thing where he drifts into people’s dreams when he’s sleeping. Not on purpose though. No, he’s a big advocate of personal privacy and would never even dare dream of spying if given a choice. It just… he just sort of tumble into the dreamscape of his fellow campers when he’s asleep and when they’re asleep. An unwilling participant to an unknowing host.

Most of it is incomprehensible. Just a mumble jumble of visions, words, and thoughts.

But some of them,

Their crystal clarity,

The lucidity,

It's like he’s awake.

Most times it’s just silly dreams. Someone forgot their pants. Someone had an exam. Someone forgot to flush the toilet after a deuce. Sometimes, though, it’s like last night. Visceral. Allusory. Something more than trivial matters.

He tries not to think about who’s the dreamer.

He tries not to think what they mean.

He tries not to listen.

“They taunt your siblings. They hurt them without repercussion. Are you not angry? Is it not unfair? Or perhaps you don’t care for them? You don’t love them? Is that it?”

“Your brother did this you ugly freak. He’s the reason we’re all going to die.”

Luke isn't my brother. I’m not even a son of Hermes. Stop bothering me. Clovis wants to say but he… isn’t really a fighter.

“Aren’t you going to say something? Huh?”

He’s more of a pacifist.

“Oi, uglyface, are you listening?”

A pacifist that really wishes someone would come save him from these three bullies.

“I’m going to knock some — shit, Connor’s coming!”

“Are you sure that’s not Travis?”

“Who the fuck cares!? I’m not going to risk it! Connor’s scary, man. I’m outta here.”

Clovis puts down the book he clutches and exhale, unable to stop the shake. He raises his head to greet his savior.

“Thanks, Connor.”

“I’m Travis,” Travis says, eyes not at him but at the backs of the three departing campers. His eyes narrow. “Were they bothering you?”

“No,” he lies behind a closed lip smile, mind going back to the demeaning nightmares.

But Travis goes to pat him on the shoulder.

“It’s okay. You’re not bothering us. If anyone picks on you, tell us and we’ll deal with, yeah?”

And Clovis nods but in his mind, we resolves to tell no one.

They already have enough problems.

A plain field. He’s walking for what seems like ever. No ones here. No one but him. Then he turns around and there’s Travis. Travis with a sword through his chest.

He seen this a thousand times. He experienced this a thousand times. It’s a dream. He knows it’s a dream.

Still the terror is there and it clogs his throat. He can’t breathe. He can’t think. He can’t move. His whole world is crumbling

And he’s falling.

“Keep the dagger up. Elbows out. Be aware of your surroundings. Don’t get too focused on one thing, okay Callie?”

“Okay, Connor!”

In another world, Clovis would say how wrong it is for a child to teach another child how to hold a dagger. It’s wrong to teach a child how to protect herself from nonhuman and human attackers. It’s wrong for a child to be fighting at all. Callie’s six. She should be holding crayons or a book, learning how to read not how to butcher a monster.

But this is their world.

And their world is breaking apart.

The ground tremble. People are screaming. A horn is sounding. Someone, everyone, is running.

He hears Clarisse yells, “Lock shields!”

He hears roaring, inhuman roaring and without his permission his knees shook.

Connor stands with steely eyes, sees the trembling in his hands, and he hates the worry he sees in his eyes. He knows Clovis isn’t a fighter. He knows Clovis is a wimp. He knows Clovis is going to pee his pants the first minute he sees a monster.

“Kronos is attacking. Clovis, take Callie somewhere safe and stay with her.”

And before he could say anything Connor is running to where the monsters are.

He walks through a mountain of corpses. Lee. Michael. Silena. Beckendorf. Castor. Pollux. Clarisse. Katie. Miranda. Percy. Chiron. Annabeth.

And at the very top, his brother.

“This is what’s going to happen in the end. I’ll make sure you’ll survive. You’ll walk wthrough your loved ones graves. You’ll be the sole survivor and you’ll suffer for eternity. For eternity, you’ll be left with your failures. You failed to save them. You failed to choose the right side. You failed.”

“Tell me, Connor. Are you willing to bet everything on your brother’s faith to the gods?”

The first battle (of many).

The first casualties (of many).

Clovis presses his fist into his eyes and sobs. Gods, why did this have to happen? Everywhere around him, all he hears are weeping and he doesn’t want to sleep tonight. He doesn’t want to sleep ever.

Clovis watches the burial shrouds burn of their friends, their brothers and sisters, a counselor, until it’s their cabin turn to burn their losses.

And he watches Travis and Connor takes the torch together and light up three of their shrouds.

Martin. Ava. Celise.

It’s unfair. It’s not right. They’re only kids. We’re only kids. It’s not fair. It’s not fair.

It’s not fair.

Something’s different. This isn’t right.

He stares at the burial shrouds before him and there’s a hand squeezing his heart, squeezing his throat.

“That was easy, wasn’t it? A single swing and goodbye, Lee. A little stab and night, night Castor. And your poor cabinmates. One eaten oh so slow—”

He screams, curling into himself. “Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up! ALALALALALA I can’t hear you! I can’t hear you.”

But that’s wrong. He can hear him loud and clear.

“You can’t protect him forever. One day you won’t be fast enough. You won’t be quick enough. You won’t make it in time. He’ll die. And it’ll be on your hands. But I can guarantee his safety. I can guarantee his life. Not even your father can do that.”

“Travis, your father let your brothers and sisters die. If he truly cared for you like you hipe for, then Tell me. Why are they dead.”

When Clovis is shove back to reality, he reaches for his trash can to throw up everything.

Clovis plays with the helium-filled balloon in his hands. Bouncy. Light. Elusive.

A single push.

And it goes wherever he wants.

The only thing keeping the balloon grounded is a string and a weight.

So easy to manipulate.

Clovis steels himself and glances at his counselor. His dried-eyed counselor

“You okay, Travis?”

Which is stupid. Of course he’s not okay. None of them are okay.

But Travis and Connor never mocks them for something like that. He looks up from his work to face him. “Hm? Oh, yeah. I’m perfectly fine. A-okay.”

And Travis even forces a smile to complete the image.

“You seem distracted. Are you worried Chris won’t be good?”

Travis stiffens, his hands stilling.

“I won’t know until he gets here. But I have total faith in my brother.” And Travis nudges him in the shoulder lightly. “You should too, Clovis!”

“Are you worried you’ll lose Connor?”

Travis bites his lips but still answer nonetheless.

“Connor is incredibly capable. I think he’s more worried about me. But, yeah, I guess I worry about that sometime.”

Clovis looks down at the string wrap around his finger. He isn’t good at this. He’s never good at this. And he’ll be exposing his secret if he says something. But … he got to try … he needs to. Travis is… Travis can’t…

“You can’t join Kronos, Travis,” he blurts.

And Travis’s eyes widen.

“How did you—

But it’s cut short when the door slams open and Chris, with his head bowed, yells

“H-Hi everybody!”

A/N: God I love angst.

#writersmonth2019 #pjo #travis stoll #connor stoll #clovis #hoo clovis #this is sorta like a rough draft #a sneak peek I guess #will I ever finish the behemoth chapter I need to post?#no #probs not

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apolafsi · 5 years

Text

THE MAJORITY OF THE BATTLE IS SEVERAL FEET IN FRONT OF DELILAH. she was behind a group of demigods, trying to drag an unconscious hero to the safety out of the street ( or at least as safe as they could be ), when she heard a roar. the sound felt like claws down her spin, and she spun to see the biggest lizard she had ever laid eyes on - a drakon.

it was charging toward her - not her specifically, but her direction. delilah continued to drag the body to the sidewalk, struggling in her panic. her heart was thudding in her chest, hoping and praying to any god that would listen that her death wasn’t going to be her mushed out like a pancake via a drakon belly. it’s then she heard percy, calling to mrs o’leary. she sees them out of the corner of her eye, charging the monster, and her stomach drops. part of her believes there is no way they could kill that massive beast, but the other part of her brain speaks up - if anyone can, it’s them.

she sets the unconscious body down, looking out at the sea of fighting to her side. it didn’t look good. the centaurs had panicked under the onslaught of giants and demons. an occasional orange camp t-shirt appeared in the sea of fighting, but quickly disappeared. arrows screamed. fire exploded in waves across both armies, but the action was moving across the street to the entrance of the empire state building. they were losing ground. there’s a roar behind delilah then, and she whips around in enough time to see annabeth driving her knife into the drakon’s back. she rolled out of sight, and delilah switched her vision to see the enemies surrounding the empire state building. they were loosing. this was it.

then there was a rumbling sound. it came from a different side, where camp lay, and a wide grin spread on delilah’s face. the ares cabin had come through.

a dozen war chariots charged into battle. each flew a red banner with the symbol of the wild boar’s head. each was pulled by a team of skeletal horses with manes of fire. a total of thirty fresh warriors, armor gleaming and eyes full of hate, lowered their lances as one - making a bristling wall of death. the girl leading the charge held an electric spear, and delilah almost laughed with joy. clarisse had finally come to her senses.

while half of the chariots charged the monster army, delilah ran to catch up with the six chariots clarisse was leading to fight the drakon. something was bugging her in the back of her mind, something about clarisse. clarisse didn’t look like ... clarisse. she was wearing the armor, she held the spear, but she seemed smaller than when delilah last saw her. her voice was shriller, and if delilah looked hard enough, she saw fear in bright blue eyes under her helmet. clarisse didn’t have blue eyes. ❛ ares ! ❜ clarisse shouted, leveling her spear and charging the drakon. then everything went in slow motion.

faintly in the background, delilah heard percy yelling. the monster looked down at the charging girl - almost in contempt - and spit poison directly in her face. she screamed and fell, delilah screaming with her. because suddenly it all clicked, and she knew it wasn’t clarisse. in fact, clarisse was landing in a flying chariot several feet away. they both reached the fallen girl at the same time, tears already stinging delilah’s eyes. because the fallen girl was none other than silena beauregard herself.

clarisse was screaming and cursing. ❛ curse you, why ? why ? ❜ delilah could only sob, holding her sister’s hand as campers struggled to get the smoking armor off of her. clarisse turned to the drakon for a moment, screaming more. ❛ you want death ? well, come on ! ❜

later, delilah was told clarisse reached a new level of intimidating. killing the monster with her electric spear to it’s eyes, the glowing red aura of the blessing of ares - clarisse was on her own level. but delilah couldn’t look away from silena. blue eyes were focusing in and out, but they landed on delilah for a brief moment, filling with tears. ❛ what were you thinking ? ❜ delilah whispered, squeezing silena’s hand. ❛ wouldn’t ... listen. cabin would ... only follow her. i am ... so sorry. so sorry ... delilah. ❜

everyone seemed to gather around now, clarisse returning to cradle silena’s head in her lap. ❛ you stole my armor. you waited until chris and i went out on patrol ; you stole my armor and pretended to be me. ❜ the ares girl turned to her cabin, anger radiating almost as much as her power. ❛ and none of you noticed ? ❜

❛ don’t blame them, ❜ silena said. ❛ they wanted to ... to believe i was you. ❜

❛ you’re and idiot. ❜ delilah sobbed, tears rolling freely down her cheeks now. ❛ you didn’t think to tell someone ? me, or percy, or annabeth ? we could have helped you ! you didn’t have to charge that drakon and you did ! you’re stupid, you’re stupid and you’re selfish and - ❜ she’s cut off by percy placing a hand on her shoulder. she couldn’t take it anymore, only able to sob as she continued to hold silena’s hand.

❛ it’s all my fault. ❜ silena said, a tear streaking the side of her face. ❛ the drakon, charlie’s death ... camp endangered - ❜

❛ stop it ! ❜ this came from both delilah and clarisse at once. ❛ that’s not true. ❜

but then silena opened her hand. i her palm was a silver bracelet, with a scythe charm, the mark of kronos. all eyes seemed to widen, and delilah felt her stomach drop. it couldn’t be true. it just couldn’t. silena wasn’t the spy type. she was good, one of the best people delilah had ever met. her brain started to swirl at the thought, making her sick. it just couldn’t be true. yet it was, with the proof right there - silena had been the spy all along. she was the cause of so much destruction and trust issues, and delilah just couldn’t believe it.

silena tried to speak. ❛ before ... before i liked charlie, luke was nice to me. he was so ... charming. handsome. later, i wanted to stop helping him, but he threatened to tell. he promised ... he promised i was saving lives. fewer people would get hurt. he told me he wouldn’t hurt ... charlie. he lied to me. ❜

delilah was shaking with anger. she had never met luke, but the stories she had gotten from percy and annabeth seemed to paint the picture of someone who was just misguided, who could have been redeemed. but this was irredeemable. he had manipulated someone delilah had cared about, lied to her face. if delilah ever met luke castellan, they would be having a few choice words.

the tears were still coming, delilah looking down at silena’s face. rage now mixed in with the sadness. this wasn’t silena’s fault, it never was. but she was paying for it, hurting for it. it made delilah’s stomach bubble, and she sobbed again. silena took a heavy, painful breath. ❛ forgive me. ❜

delilah shook her head, squeezing silena’s hand. ❛ don’t say that. you can’t leave us. you can’t leave me. please, please, please. silena please. ❜ each word cracked in her voice, trying to hold herself somewhat together while watching her sister die right in front of her.

silena looked at delilah with her own tears. ❛ i ... i am ... so sorry delilah. i ... i should have been better ... for you. you are ... going to be the best ... the best of us. ❜ her gaze drifted to the open sky, and she seemed to relax. ❛ charlie ... see charlie ... ❜

she didn’t speak again.

it was too much for delilah. a blood curdling scream ripped from her throat, all the pain she felt in that moment exploding out of her. if one had been in the air at that moment, it would have seemed like a rose colored wave of dust emitted from where delilah knelt, reaching throughout kronos’ army. they all seemed to get smacked at once, freezing in their spots and looking at the camp’s forces in confusion. it was as if they had suddenly forgot what they were fighting over, deeming it unnecessary. instead of killing, several of the monsters dropped their weapons and one leaned in to try and hug one of the campers, resulting in a cloud of dust popping up where it once stood. the monsters seemed to loose any maliciousness they had.

delilah wavered for a second, having to be caught by percy. her eyes were lidded, pupils rolled back in her head. all of her anger, her sadness at silena’s death, rolled off of her in waves. it didn’t reach but half of the army, but that half now posed no threat. they walked around congratulating each other on their armor, hugging each other like old friends who had been reunited. several had taken an interest in the demigods, patting their heads. it confused the camp’s forces just as much as it confused the other half of the titan army. percy knelt by delilah for a minute, calling for ambrosia and necter. annabeth handed it over, and after a small bit delilah opened her eyes again.

dark brown irises met with sea green ones, and the girl sprang up right in a panic, which only made her dizzy. ❛ whoa there, lilah. take a break. that was ... a lot for you. ❜ delilah looked at percy with confusion, and then past him at the friendly monsters. it took a few seconds for it all to register, but then her eyes glassed over with tears again. her head slowly turned to where clarisse was still cradling silena’s lifeless body. it hadn’t all been a war time nightmare.

her eyes closed for a second, trying to steady her breathing. the last thing she needed was another outburst - it would probably kill her. ❛ i’m sorry. usually i can control it better than that. ❜ her voice was bitter and stretched, trying not to break into more tears.

percy watched her closely, but it was annabeth who spoke up. ❛ what was that ? are all those monsters ... nice now ? ❜

delilah shook her head. ❛ not forever. just for a while. the timing of it, i haven’t figured out but ... i guess you could say i pushed all the bad out of them for a little while. it takes a lot for me to use that power, at least in that kind of massive form. i’m sorry guys, i didn’t mean ... i’m just ... ❜ her voice was breaking again, and percy rest a hand on her shoulder.

❛ you were awesome. you single handedly took out half of that army. you shouldn’t be sorry for anything. ❜ his words were sincere, but delilah couldn’t help but dismiss them. she might have taken out half a titan army, but she couldn’t save someone that mattered to her. what kind of hero was she ?

clarisse stood up then from where she had been sitting. her eyes were red, just like delilah’s, but she looked more menacing than pathetic. ❛ there’s still half an army left then. ❜ her voice was masked with anger and hurt, just like delilah felt.

annabeth nodded. ❛ we have to fight. she gave her life to help us. we have to honor her. ❜ her vice was brittle, but her face was a blank slate.

clarisse sniffled and wiped her nose. ❛ she was a hero, understand ? a hero. ❜ delilah couldn’t help but nod in agreement. no matter what anyone said from now on, silena would be known as a hero to her. she had done what was right in the end - she had saved the camp. in no way was she going to be roped in with the traitors.

on the other side, the other half of kronos’s army had come to their senses. they kept attacking the demigods and centaurs, but it was hard with their brethren under delilah’s magic frowning at the violence and refusing to get out of the way, declaring that there should be no fighting. delilah watched as a pack of telkhines tackled a giant in a hug pile until it collapsed into dust, then moved on to the next foe who was cramping their loving style. as much as the army wanted to push forward and reach the empire state building, they had lost their numbers and lost their edge.

delilah struggled to stand, wobbling a bit as she picked up her dagger from the ground where it had fallen. percy reached out to steady her, shaking his head. ❛ delilah, no. you need to rest, with that stunt you just pulled. you could’ve seriously injured yourself or worse - ❜

❛ percy, i’m fine. ❜ she snapped, which took both of them aback. delilah wasn’t one to use such a tone in any situation, but this was new. she had never felt this much anger or sadness before. silena had been her family, the first one she ever felt truly at home with. there was a knot in her chest that burned, and it wasn’t going away. but she wasn’t going to take it out on percy. there’s a sigh as she straightens herself out. ❛ i’m fine. i’ll make it. we have bigger things to worry about, and you’re going to need everyone you can get. ❜

he didn’t seem to like the idea, but delilah didn’t wait for him to argue with her further. she pushed past percy, clenching her dagger tightly. she could hear clarisse roaring somewhere nearby, and saw the end of a drakon tail out of the corner of her eye. when delilah plunged into the sea of fighting, she only had one goal - to make kronos pay.

#&. there’s more to love than valentines ─ about.#death /#uhhhhh this is important to delilahs character thanks

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dumbledearme · 6 years

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chapter thirty-nine—distractions, decisions

read Child of Land and Sea here

Act V — Walking On Water

Part II — I’m down to one last hope and I hope it’s you. Though, kid, you’re not exactly a dream come true.

After breakfast, Andy followed Anthony while he inspected the cabins. He started at the Poseidon cabin where Andy proclaimed she deserved a four out of five, after all she'd just returned to camp and didn't really have time to mess things up yet.

He made a face. "You're being generous," he said pointing at some clothes she had left on the ground.

"Yeah, well... I did make the bed! It's gotta count for something. I never make my bed!"

He considered. "Three out of five," he decided. "Because I like you."

Andy rolled her eyes but knew better than to argue.

The Aphrodite cabin got five out of five, obviously. "Great job as usual, Silena," Anthony told her. She nodded listlessly. The wall behind her bed was decorated with pictures of Beckendorf.

As they crossed the commons area, a fight broke out between the Ares and Apollo cabins. Anthony sighed and ignored them.

"What are they fighting about?" Andy finally asked.

Anthony scribbled on his inspection scroll, giving both cabins a one out of five. "That flying chariot," he said. Andy looked up and saw some Apollo campers armed with firebombs flying over the Ares cabin in a chariot pulled by two pegasi. "They captured it in a raid in Philadelphia last week. Some of Luke's demigods were there with that flying chariot. The Apollo cabin seized it during the battle, but the Ares cabin led the raid. So they've been fighting about who gets it ever since."

"But... We're fighting for our lives," Andy mumbled watching them fight, "and they're just-"

"They'll get over it," Anthony shrugged. "Clarisse will come to her senses."

"When did she ever have any sense?"

They kept walking. Demeter got a four. Hephaestus got a three. They probably should've gotten lower, but with Beckendorf being gone, Anthony cut them some slack. Hermes got a two, which was no surprise.

Finally they got to Athena's cabin, which was orderly and clean as usual. Only Anthony's bunk was messy, covered in papers, and his silver laptop was still running. Malcolm, the second-in-command, suppressed a smile. "Yeah, um... we cleaned everything else. Didn't know if it was safe to touch your things."

Andy grinned. "Four," she told Anthony. "Because I like you."

"Cute," he mumbled and started cleaning up his bunk. He shuffled his papers – mostly drawings of buildings and a bunch of handwritten notes. "What happened to Beckendorf," he started saying, "this whole thing... It makes you think about what's important. About losing people who are important."

Andy sat on the bed crushing some papers. Every time Beckendorf was mentioned, she felt short of breath. "I know."

"Andy..." he was trying to save his notes. "Do you mind...?"

She wasn't even listening. "Is everything cool with your family?"

He glanced at her surprised and nodded. He sat on the ground in front of her. "My dad wanted to take me to Greece this summer," he said wistfully. "I've always wanted to see-"

"The Parthenon."

Anthony smiled. "Yes."

"Maybe one day. If Olympus don't fall," she mumbled.

"Haven't you heard from Grover?" he asked suddenly. "The empathy link and everything?"

Andy shook her head. "Still spreading the word about Pan's death, I'd guess. Tony..." she lowered her voice. "If you were Kronos planning this war, what would you do next?"

"I'd use Typhon as a distraction," he said at once. "Then I'd hit Olympus directly, while the gods were in the West."

She held his eyes. "Last time I went to Rachel's house... In her room, she had... She had this drawing in her wall. The Empire State Building with lightning all around it. In the distance a dark storm was brewing, with a huge hand coming out of the clouds. And at the base of the building a crowd had gathered... An army."

"Andy," he said, "Rachel is just a mortal."

"She's also been drawing a lot of pictures of Luke," Andy insisted. "Of him as a child. How can she know what he looked like? And those other Titans – they said Olympus would be destroyed in a matter of days."

"We'll just have to be ready."

"How? Look at our camp! We can't even stop fighting each other. We're not ready for this. I'm not ready. How am I supposed to know when to get my soul reaped?"

Anthony sighed. "I knew we shouldn't have shown you the prophecy. All it did was scare you."

"I'm not scared. I'm just... Not ready yet."

"But you will be," he said. Anthony stood up and offered her his hand. "Come on."

"You're not gonna finish tiding up the place?"

"What for? You already crushed all my work, Andy," he said, but he was smiling, so she took his hand and followed him outside.

That afternoon they had an assembly at the campfire to burn Beckendorf's burial shroud and say their goodbyes. Silena sat nearby crying, while Clarisse and her boyfriend, Chris, tried to comfort her.

After the shroud had burned completely, Andy excused herself and headed toward the fighting arena where she found her dog, Mrs O'Leary. It was time for her walk. Andy opened the gates of the arena, and Mrs O'Leary bounded straight toward the woods.

Andy jogged after her. When she finally tracked her down, Mrs O'Leary was in a clearing with Juniper, Nico di Angelo and a very fat satyr who wasn't happy to see the hell-hound. "What is this underworld creature doing in my forest? You there, Jackson! Is this your beast?"

"Sorry, Leneus," Andy said.

"Make it go away! Juniper, I will not help you under these circumstances!"

Juniper turned toward Andy. "I was just asking about Grover," she said. "I know something's happened. He wouldn't stay gone this long if he wasn't in trouble."

"I told you," the satyr protested. "You are better off without the traitor."

"He is not a traitor!" Juniper stamped her foot. "He is the bravest satyr ever, and I want to know where he is!"

"I'll walk the dog," Nico offered. He was taller than the last time Andy had seen him. His presence had been quite frequent in her life the past year: he was always coming over her house to try and convince her of certain things... And also because Sally loved to cook for him. He whistled, and Mrs O'Leary bounded after him to the far end of the grove.

"Now," Leneus said, "as I was trying to explain, young nymph, your boyfriend has not sent any reports since we voted him into exile."

"You tried to vote him into exile," Andy corrected him.

"This is none of your business, Jackson!"

"Grover is my friend," she said. "He wasn't lying to you about Pan's death. I saw it myself. You were just too scared to accept the truth."

Leneus's lips quivered. "No! Grover's a liar and good riddance. We're better off without him."

"We need Grover," Andy promised. "There's gotta be a way you can find him with your magic."

"I've heard nothing," the old satyr crossed his arms. "Perhaps he's dead."

Juniper choked back a sob. "He isn't dead," Andy told her. "I would know. Leneus... find him. There's a war coming. Grover was preparing the nature spirits."

"Without my permission! And it's not our war."

In a wave of anger, Andy grabbed him by the shirt. "You listen to me. When Kronos attacks, he's going to have packs of hell-hounds. He will destroy everything in his path. You're supposed to be a leader. So lead. Get out there and see what's happening. Find Grover and bring Juniper good news. Or I'll make you sorry before Kronos has his chance." She didn't push him very hard, but he fell on his furry rump, then scrambled to his hooves and ran away with his belly jiggling. "Was that too much?" Andy asked Juniper.

The nymph wiped her eyes. "I didn't mean to get you involved, Andy. Leneus is still a lord of the Wild. You don't want to make an enemy out of him."

"Trust me, Juniper. I've got worse enemies than over-weight satyrs."

Nico walked back. "Good job, Jackson. Judging from the trail of goat pellets, I'd say you shook him up pretty well."

"I was wondering when I'd see you again. Did you come by just to see Juniper? Or were you hoping to find me?"

The boy blushed. "Uh, yeah... This here was an accident. I sort of dropped in the middle of their conversation."

"You scared us to death!" Juniper said. "Right out of the shadows. Oh, Nico, you're the son of Hades and all! Are you sure you haven't heard anything about Grover?"

He shook his head. "He isn't human or even half-human. If he dies, he will reincarnate into something else in nature. I can't sense things like that, only mortal souls."

"But if you do hear anything...?" she pleaded, putting her hand on his arm. Nico winced. Andy was now used to his embarrassment and discomfort about being touched but Juniper obviously had no idea.

Nico's cheeks got even brighter red. "Um, you bet. I'll keep my ears open," he said taking a step away from her.

"We'll find him," Andy promised. "Grover's alive."

Juniper smiled and poofed into green mist.

"I'm sorry about Beckendorf," Nico said meeting the sea-green eyes.

"You-"

"I talked to his ghost. He doesn't blame you or anything, if that's what you're worried about." A lump formed in Andy's throat; she forced it down. "He figured you'd be beating yourself up, and he said you shouldn't."

She nodded. "What's going to happen to him?"

"He's staying in Elysium. Said he's waiting for someone. Not sure what he meant, but he seems okay with death."

Silena, Andy thought. "What else have you been up to?" she tried to change the subject. "My mom's been asking about you. She wants to try this new recipe... She said you're the best guinea pig in the world."

Nico actually smiled. "Makes me hungry just thinking about it," he admitted. "I've been following leads on my family. Spying on Titans. All sorts of things. But you know what I'm here for."

Andy looked away, fear creeping in her stomach. Ever since Nico first proposed his plan for beating Kronos, she'd had nightmares about it. Then Sally would invite Nico over and he would press Andy for an answer, but she kept putting him off. "I haven't made up my mind."

"I know. But Typhon's coming," he reminded her. "You've got what? A week? Most of the other Titans are unleashed now and on Kronos's side. Maybe it's time for you to make a choice." He glanced toward the camp. "They're no match for the Titan army. You know that. In the end, it'll come down to you and Luke. And there's only one way you can beat him."

"I-"

"You can have the same powers he has," Nico pressed on. "You heard the prophecy. You have no other choice."

Andy frowned. "How do you know I heard the prophecy?"

"I know a lot of things."

Andy raised her eyebrows. Apparently, he knew more than he should. "Well, anyway... You can't prevent a prophecy."

"But you can fight it. You can become invincible."

"Maybe we should wait. I haven't talked to Ant-"

"No!" Nico snarled. "It has to be now!"

Andy stared at him. The boy had a terrible temper. "Why do you want me to do this so bad?"

Nico took a deep breath. "You're the only one who can."

"Why?"

"Because..." he stopped himself. "Look, when the fighting starts, we won't be able to make the journey. This is our last chance. I'm sorry if I'm being too pushy, but Bianca gave her life to save you. To protect you. From the very beginning, you were the chosen one. And I'm gonna do whatever it takes to keep you alive. To... to defeat Kronos."

Andy was surprised he cared so much for her well being since he had spent a long time wanting her dead. "Alright," she gave in. "I do have to make a choice. I have to do something. So tell me what to do."

His cold creepy smile made her sorry she'd agreed. "First, we need to retrace Luke Castellan's steps. We need to know more about his past, his childhood."

"Why?"

"I want to be sure of something," Nico said. "I've already tracked down his mother. She lives in Connecticut."

"He ran away when he was really young," Andy remembered. "I didn't think she was alive."

"Oh, alive she is." The way he said it made Andy wonder what was wrong with her.

"Okay," she said. "How do we get there?"

"We shadow travel."

"We shadow...?"

"I can't do it often," he explained, "and it works best at night, of course. But all shadows are part of the same substance. There is only one darkness, and creatures of the Underworld can use it as a road, or a door."

"I have no idea what you just said."

"No," Nico said. He came toward her, slowly, carefully, and took her hand on his. It was the first time he'd ever touched her out of his free will. His skin was so cold she almost pulled away. "It took me a long time to learn. Close your eyes." He was standing so close Andy was afraid he was going to kiss her like Rachel had, but she did what he said. Then his body turned as cold as the dark side of the moon and Andy felt herself being pulled with him.

#andromeda #andy jackson #anthony chase #andony #fanfic #genderbend #dfcrosas #child of land and sea #walking on water #fem percy jackson

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blackjacktheboss · 7 years

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Maskless

So here is a fic that nobody asked for but I’ve been wanting to write for months on end. Huge thanks to my wife, my love, my whole world aka @ananbeth for being such an awesome beta. Could not have finished this without you, my guy.

All of the section headers are quotes from this poem by Miles Hodges

i. The coolest kid in the room actually doesn’t have any friends

The campfire isn’t as comforting as it once was. Percy watches the flames, focuses on their flicker and the crackle of the wood as the voices of young campers swirl around him. It doesn’t feel like it used to, he thinks. The hum of Camp doesn’t settle over him like a warm blanket anymore, and the sight of familiar faces doesn’t make him feel connected to the life he’s living. Now when he looks around, instead of people he sees shrouds; he thinks of the eulogies that will be given over their funeral pyres. It’s a feeling that has sunk into him over the years, the way a skipped rock finally sinks to the bottom of a lake. That feeling now rests in the pit of his stomach, a hollowness at the very center of him. Some days it feels small, more like a pebble stuck in his shoe than anything. He can carry on normally for the most part but at some point, it makes its presence known. Other days, it is a boulder resting on top of him like the sky rests on Atlas’ shoulders. It consumes his very existence, his muscles burn with the weight and it occupies his every thought. It is a part of him that he wishes he could drown.

Staying disconnected isn’t as hard as he once found it to be. He breaks bread with these kids, shares laughs and a tale or two about his glory days, but nothing ever seems to reach his heart. He feels like a child restricted to the shallow end of the pool as he watches everyone else plunge into deeper waters. Inevitably, his fatal flaw enters his head and Athena’s words echo in his thoughts: “To save a friend, you would sacrifice the world”. But what happens to all that loyalty, he wonders, when there’s no one to give it to.

ii. Cheek safety pinned to the edge by a pile of regrets

Charles. Silena. Michael. Leo. Connor. Travis. Frank. Grover. Clarisse. When Percy awakes in Cabin 3, he recites the names of friends he has lost. At first a prayer, it has now become his penance. Charles. Silena. Michael. Leo. Connor. Travis. Frank. Grover. Clarisse.

Charles, gone too soon.

Silena, a traitor who fought for redemption.

Michael, a war hero.

Leo, a martyr.

Connor, whose feet were not fast enough.

Travis, who sought revenge.

Frank, a fire that burned out too quickly.

Grover, lost to the wild.

And now Clarisse. A warrior until the very end.

As Percy goes down the list in his head, he is acutely aware of the regrets each friend took with them. Regrets of not being fast enough, strong enough, present enough. Enough. Percy laughs darkly. He can’t remember the last time that word meant anything to him. Perhaps it was the last time he let his mother hold him, really hold him, and it had been years since then. It had been a night when his loneliness became too much to bare on his own, so he’d retreated to the only place he could. Sally had held him as sobs wracked his body, running her fingers through his hair. He can still feel her heartbeat against his cheek if he’s still enough. She had never wanted anything from him, never demanded his heroism or expected him to be better than he was. When he was around her, she accepted him for who and what he was. That night when she held him, she let him be a puddle of a boy, who wanted nothing more than to evaporate and disappear. He was always enough for her. No matter what. Enough as a son, as a hero, as a man. She held him solid that night, and he fell asleep feeling whole. He longed for that night.

Or maybe the last time he had felt like enough had been the last time he sat on the porch of the Big House with Grover and Annabeth, reminiscing about their first quest together.

Feeling whole now felt like a false memory to Percy, the type where you’re not sure if you actually remember or you’ve just seen so many pictures and heard so many stories that your brain fills in the gaps for itself.

The list runs through his head again: Charles. Silena. Michael. Leo. Connor. Travis. Frank. Grover. Clarisse. We were just kids, he reflects. But the Gods and the Fates have no time for children, only heroes. Heroes who claw and fight their way to victory, all for the glory of Olympus. But once we stop doing that, we’re all disposable, he contemplates. Hell, we’re disposable either way.

Percy sits at the table for Cabin 3, eating silently as he continues to recite the list in his head. Charles. Silena. Michael. Leo. Connor. Travis. Frank. Grover. Clarisse. Charles. Silena. Michael. Leo. Connor. Travis. Frank. Grover. Clarisse. Charles. Silena. Michael. Leo. Conn-

His list is interrupted by the feeling of a tap on his hand. Percy looks up to see bright grey eyes looking at him and his heart speeds up.

“Good morning, Mr. Jackson.”

“Good morning…?”

“Letha. I took your sword fighting class last summer.”

“Right. Letha. How can I help you?”

“I was wondering if you would give me private sword fighting lessons. I’ve decided that the sword will be my weapon and after taking your class I’m sure you’re the most qualified to teach me. I think two-a-days will be most effective for my learning style, but I promise to be flexible with how we spread those out. Though I do ask you keep in mind that I have other classes I’m taking. I want to be the most well-rounded hero I can be.”

Percy considers the girl in front of him, surely no older than 13. Her hair is a dirtier blonde than children from Cabin 6 usually have, but her eyes are so bright they almost look silver instead of grey. They are clear and innocent, not yet tinted with the burden of being a hero, but have a flare of aggressiveness that will serve her well if she’s trained properly. She is sure of herself, like any child of Athena, and she projects a confidence that takes Percy back to when he was twelve years old. She sits up straight with her shoulders back and looks him directly in the eyes.

Charles. Silena. Michael. Heroes are disposable.

“So, Mr. Jackson-”

Leo. Connor. Travis. A grey funeral shroud.

“-what do you say?”

Frank. Grover. Clarisse. Regret.

Percy takes a deep breath, sitting up straight to match her posture as he reaches a hand across the table towards her. Charles. Silena. Michael. Leo. Connor. Travis. Frank. Grover. Clarisse. In his mind, Percy stares down his pile of regrets.

If he can help one demigod make it, maybe that will be enough.

As Letha takes his hand and shakes it, Percy smiles. “You’ve got a deal.”

iii. I wonder, how do you trust a man whose eyes can go from green to gone in a single night?

Percy stands shirtless in front of his bathroom mirror, watching water trail down the sides of his face and drip off of his chin. He considers himself, a man lost in the curves of his own soul, and wonders what it will take for the real him to return. If it’s even possible at all. If there is even a real him that remains or if it’s simply a figment of his imagination. He is shaken from this reflection by loud banging on the door of Cabin 3. When he opens it, a satyr with panicked eyes rushes forward and grabs his arm.

“We have an incoming party and they’ve got company! We need you!”

Percy quickly turns back into the cabin, grabbing a shirt and pulling it over his head as he begins his jog to Half-Blood Hill.

He stands at the crest of that old, familiar hill with Riptide in pen form twirling between his fingers. Ghosts of a childhood lost run past him, leaving whispers of Annabeth’s laugh and his hope for a happy future. To his left, Peleus sits at attention sniffing at the air while curled protectively around the Golden Fleece. Chiron appears to Percy’s right, with two older campers accompanying him.

“How many monsters?”

Chiron releases a deep sigh riddled with concern, “The last report the satyrs could send out said at least three, maybe more by now.”

“Do we know whose kids we’re dealing with?”

“All suspected but a daughter of Hecate, a son of Hephaestus, and a child of Aphrodite.”

“How the hell did they all end up traveling together?”

“All from affluent families, all ended up at the same boarding school. They tried splitting up but I’m afraid they were… they were herded back together.”

“So this is a hunting party.”

“It would seem that way, yes.”

Percy rolls his eyes, “You know, I’m really sick of the The Fates’ shit.” The sky rumbles and Percy waves it away with his free hand. “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

One of the campers, a son of Demeter, steps up to Percy. “So what’s our plan?”

“The plan is simple. Monsters on me,” he says, stepping up to the boundary, “While you two make sure those kids and satyrs make it back across this line. Clear?”

The other camper, a daughter of Apollo, looks at Percy skeptically, “How can you be so sure the monsters will go after you when they’ll have five other demigods to choose from?”

Dark shadows appear on the horizon of the trail and Peleus growls from deep in his throat.

Percy looks at the camper, his green eyes shifting into something else entirely as he begins to slowly walk backwards down the hill, his arms stretched out. “What monster wouldn’t want a chance at the son of Poseidon?”

Growing up, Percy never thought of himself as a fighter. It wasn’t something he chose, but something that had always happened to him. Life as a demigod made fighting a necessity; a survival tactic that he happened to master. Now, as he stumbles back across the Camp border bloody and bruised, the feeling of fighting is one he instantly misses.

When he fights, he is not Percy Jackson: ex-boyfriend, terrible son, horrible brother, old friend who doesn’t keep in touch. When he fights, he is simply Percy Jackson, Son of Poseidon. As much as it is a title that burdens him, it is one he knows how to bare. It is his heaven and hell, his penance, his salvation, his legacy. The weight of Riptide in his hand, a monster at his throat, is the only time Percy feels in control of his fate. As he slices, stabs, dodges, and dives, he feels the burn of the ichor that runs through his veins. He becomes someone powerful, a version of himself that the world can’t touch or hurt. As long as he’s fighting, nothing else matters. But as long as he’s fighting... nothing else matters. This duality haunts him, as the thrill of battle is all that he craves but that craving is what keeps him from moving on. At some point, he became a fighter and no one ever bothered to teach him how to stop. But then again, heroes aren’t supposed to stop fighting, he realizes. They’re supposed to die.

In the throes of battle, a hero does not have to think of all the ways he is failing or how many people he has let down. Fighting, when done correctly, consumes a hero and distracts them from everything they are and everything they aren’t. That is the feeling that Percy chases; the place where who he is and who he could be collide to create nothingness. It’s easier, most of the time, to be a hero rather than to be a person.

He lays on the grass staring up at stars that tell stories like his and mentally checks off all the types of monsters he has killed. I’ve got a few more to go, he thinks as a wicked smile spreads across his face. I just gotta chase ‘em down. And fight.

iv. Check his mask, he wears it well

The list of people who recognize the cracks in Percy’s mask has grown small over the years. Distance, both emotional and physical, has robbed Jason of the ability. Piper is annoyingly perceptive, which is why Percy keeps their interactions short. Sally’s voice has become more concerned during their weekly phone calls but she isn’t yet desperate enough to really push him to admit to anything being wrong. Chiron can see through the mask but always makes the conscious decision to let Percy keep it on. Percy doesn’t think either of them could handle what might happen if he loses it.

Most of the time, he is happy to have it. It allows him to be social at times, visiting New Rome for a weekend or meeting his family for a day in Montauk. The mask comforts him, giving him permission to pretend not to be as broken as he feels. He can assume the persona of a Percy who made it through everything unscathed. He can pretend to be a man better than the one he is. When he has his mask on, he can pretend to be in control. He wishes he didn’t so desperately desire to be in control. But he does. He feels stunted and polluted, as if he is undrinkable, toxic, deadly. So every morning, rather than dive into the depths he is sure are filled with nothing but debris, he keeps his head just above the surface. He slips his mask on, and presents the front of a pure and untainted mountain stream. People can look at him like he is something fresh and undiscovered, somehow clean despite the virulent environment that surrounds him.

Then there are days when the mask grates against his skin. It irritates him, makes him feel confined, and it takes everything in him not to scream in frustration. Those are the days he wishes Annabeth were around to rip his mask off of him. She had always had that effect on him, even when they were twelve years old and complete strangers. And she was never shy about it either, not that there was anything Annabeth Chase was ever really shy about. She would tear his mask off and wave it in front of him, but it never seemed like taunting.

No, rather she held it up like a mirror, waiting for him to take in his reflection and see what it was he was hiding behind. For most of his life, his mask had been made up of hope. Hope for his father to come home, for friends, for getting through a school year without attracting any attention, for his best friend to fall in love with him, for a future that went past age 17. This hope is what kept him going for so long. That hope was a reminder of why he was fighting so hard. That hope grounded him in who he was as a hero and as a person.

Thinking on it now as he lies in bed avoiding the start of another day, he’s not sure what his mask is made of. Memories maybe, he muses. Memories glued together by nostalgia….and maybe a little hope. He finally rises, fitting his mask to his face as he opens his cabin door.

“Good morning, Percy! How are you today?” A satyr asks.

Percy adjusts his mask, and considers what kind of hero and person he wants to be today. Smiling warmly, he answers back. “Morning! I’m great, thanks. How are you?”

v. But sometimes he comes home and he’s lonely

The floor creaks beneath his feet as he enters his apartment, chased inside by the rising sun. He peels his jacket off and throws it onto the couch, thinking he should probably just put it up now but it’s fine, he’ll do it later. There are no pictures on the walls of his apartment, no decorations or knick-knacks on the shelves to make it look like a home. The only clue that it is a space in which someone lives is the cereal bowl in the sink and a single seashell magnet that clings to his refrigerator. Percy drags himself down the hallway to the bathroom, where he reaches into the medicine cabinet and pulls out a small bottle of dark green pills. The label is simple, white with a red caduceus on the front. They had been a gift from the Hermes cabin, sleeping pills that block nightmares but only if used sparingly. Take them too often and a demigod could get so backlogged with nightmares that they never really wake up from them. Percy pops two into his mouth and swallows hard before brushing his teeth and heading to his bedroom. He sheds the rest of his clothes and climbs into bed, tired in every way imaginable.

Percy awakens slowly, his eyes taking their time to adjust to the sensation of being open. It is nighttime again and darkness has crept in around him. He turns his head and spots his little blue fish night light, a remnant of his childhood innocence that has stuck with him through the years. Looking at it gives him something to focus on, a happy epicenter to coax his mind out of its sleepy haze. Before long though, the reality of his life encroaches on the happy space that the night light provides and suddenly it’s as if there were no light in his life at all. He turns back to look up at the ceiling, his fingers interlocked across his stomach. They begin to tap nervously as thoughts race through his head until he can’t contain them anymore. Idle hands and all that, he thinks, as he reaches over to his nightstand to pick up his phone. He slides his finger across the screen until he opens a new message.

To: Leave Her Alone

I miss you. Can we grab a drink?

He hits send without a second thought, wanting to allow himself this fleeting moment of reaching out to someone (even if he had promised himself he would stop reaching out to this particular someone). Almost immediately he sees three dots appear, and without realizing it he begins to hold his breath.

The bar near my place in 20.

vi. Sometimes he does things because he knows that tomorrow he will choose to forget them

It is 4 am and he watches Annabeth sleep, softly running his fingers across her bare back as it rises and falls. They’ve been like this for a few years now. Too in love to completely let go, but too broken to really try and make it fit again. Percy wishes he wasn’t such a coward about it, but he doesn’t know what’s worse: this back and forth game they play or trying and losing her for good. Her back rises and falls again, in time with Percy’s own breath. What if she doesn’t understand, he thinks. Or what if she does and it’s still not enough?

So tonight, like every other night their loneliness has chased them back to each other, he will creep through the dark of her apartment to put his clothes back on before leaving without saying goodbye. As he walks home, he will keep Riptide in his hand as he hopes for a monster to challenge him. No monster will show and he will call the Fates cowards under his breath. He will crawl back into his own empty bed, silently praying the smell of her doesn’t fade too quickly from his clothes, before drifting off to a nightmare-filled sleep. When he wakes in the morning, he will delete the text he sent her in an attempt to reclaim the alone that he has so carefully cultivated. He will then make himself breakfast while pretending to read the paper. He will call his mother and decline talking to his sister, but will tell his mom to give her a kiss for him. After taking a shower, he will head back to Camp Half-Blood and spend the day training kids in the hopes that they don’t die too quickly. That night, he will stay late in the training arena, hacking away at air in an attempt to make himself feel alive. He will go to bed after three glasses of whiskey, a bottle of which he keeps stashed in his bunk. The whiskey will help him forget that the night before he was not alone, but rather in the bed of the only woman he has ever loved.

He will choose to forget that it was his decision to leave.

When morning comes, he will choose to forget why he bothered saving the world so many times.

#i attempt to write #percy jackson #pjo au #canonverse #maskless

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