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#pjo answers
modawg · 1 day
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omfg i just accidently deleted an ask abt percy being suicidal when i was trying to respond WTF bruh im so sorry but this is for you i hope you see this it was anon sorry pookie
the q was simply “is percy suicidal?” and asking for context
ok so basically no one has every come out and said “percy is suicidal” rick has never said this through what i know HOWEVER
it is smth that is deeply written into the text of the series not that he’s actively grabbing a knife or smth but that he is VERY prone to this line of thinking
many ppl point to the beginning of pjo when percy would pretty often talk abt dying and wanting to die or allowing himself to drown or just dark humor in that way; when i first started reading it was smth i never really noticed as anything other then a dramatic tween but once you get to hoo (along with looking at the amount of insecurity and low self esteem percy has in pjo) it kinda hits a limit
in hoo there’s an entire scene where after getting out of tartarus he’s fighting some bitch i forget who (polybotes) and gives up not trying to protect himself when he was literally in his element and later admits to jason that he thought he deserved to choke on poison
and DIE like it’s not like he’s saying “meh yeah i thought i’d give up and give them a chance 💯💯” like he is fully aware that stopping would kill him and he was going to allow that to happen
you could also pair this with percy almost drowning both himself and annabeth in tartarus with this; after they land in cocytus (river of depression literally) annabeth (though extremely distressed) has a pretty decent time swimming and staying alive in the water after the initial shock however percy almost fully gives up pulling them under and is much harder to break out of the “spell” (the voices)
a lot of this can be chalked up to traumatic events being tired or scared or all three but an easy gateway to suicidal ideations can stem from those things and percy’s been dealing with all of those the majority of his life
so yes and no if you want to say percy isn’t be my guest ? but this aspect of his life is such an interesting thing to pull apart because his reactions to the things he’s had to live through is one that’s extremely human and i feel like really breaths life into the sort of “reality” these characters live (if that makes sense lmao)
i feel like that last para sounded rude im not trying to be but idk how else to word that LMAO
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and here’s the quotes (i recommend rereading pjo for the early stuff bc i’m not picking that apart but if someone else wants to they can)
if there’s anything else lmk and i won’t delete it next time i swear :(
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demigods-posts · 10 days
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Here is the thing, I don't think Percy and Annabeth would get married.
Reason: They want to mess with Hera.
Like, I imagine they will get rings with stones that are the other's eye color (provided by Hazel and Leo) and they will call each other husband and wife, but they never officially get married. Just to mess with Hera.
I fuck with this so hard lol
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orbitsab · 11 months
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one more time, because I haven’t seen anyone do them.
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star-girl69 · 4 months
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clarisse is definitely i hate everyone but you trope SHES VERY “10 things i hate about you” PATRICK CODED
OMG I FORGOT ABOUT THIS TROPE. no bc it is SO clarisse it’s insane and i must elaborate
while she’s not necessarily a bully she’s just insecure and her first instinct is violence!
she is just kind of an asshole tho
she standoffish and her reputation at camp is not very positive!
people are just really shocked and all your siblings are SO concerned that she’s like going to punch you in the face or smth???? it’s really funny tbh
clarisse is just SO hard and tough and that’s just her persona and who she is
but you just bring out a side of her that no one else gets to see
well they get to see it from afar
you’ll be like standing next to her table at lunch trying to talk to her about something and she’s like
“hold on pretty girl hold that pretty thought can someone fucking move so she can sit down?? jesus christ.”
or sometimes she’ll just push one of her siblings food away and tell you to sit right on the table
mumbling “sorry sorry” to all of her siblings but they’re used to it
her love language is touch and acts of service so she’s always touching you, any part of your body, always kissing you, and it’s just so SHOCKING
like just pure whiplash she’ll call one of her friends a dumbass for tripping but if you were to trip over something she would catch you and be like “you gotta be more careful, dummy” and smile at you
one of her siblings would jokingly point out how unfair it was and she was just like deadpan
“yeah? she’s the most amazing woman at camp. what are you? you’re not beautiful like her. you’re not smart like her. you’re just….. you…. which is not a good thing”
she’s always just doing things for you
like if you ask her to grab something for you trust it’s getting grabbed
but also like ares kids notice EVERYTHING
you won’t even realize you’re cold or hungry or something and all of a sudden she’s placing a jacket over you or shoving food into your mouth
she loves to feed you but not in a weird way
she just likes to provide for you???? do i make sense???? she just wants you and everyone to see that she’s capable and strong and confident and she can take care of you AND herself
and you’re obviously always so nice to her
like borderline sitting in her lap, touching her muscles, talking about how pretty she is
everyone is like “have you met clarisse before??”
y’all know you on my arm by leith ross? she wants to buy you pretty little things and never ever lie to you
she just gets so BORED with everyone else
like she’s a little bit better to her siblings but still
they’ll be talking sometimes and she’s like oh my god shut up
then you come around and start rambling to her and she does get bored too she’s not perfect but she just zones out and listens to your voice
or sometimes if she’s really bored she kisses you so you’ll shut up
and it’s really weird bc like she’s kissing you and SHES KISSING YOU so you’re like omg and then she’s just mumbling “sorry sorry sorry” against your lips like bae what are you even talking about that???? that was before the kiss who cares
also she has to kiss you before EVERY capture the flag game before EVERY spar or match or else she’s convinced she’ll lose
after capture the flag games that she wins she’s like sitting somewhere recounting the events with her siblings with you in her lap
she’s just obsessed with you really
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achenetype · 2 months
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Hihi can you please do a Luke x reader where it’s basically an unrequited love like reader is so in love with Luke and he has no idea so she moves on and years later she’s over him and confesses to him like a oh I thought you should know and the whole time Luke had been in love with her, kinda base it off that one TikTok audio where it’s like “I’m not in love with you anymore” “I never knew you were” 🩷🩷
OHH YOURE FEEDING MY ANGST BRAIN WITH THIS ONE. buckle up lets break some hearts
edit: this ended up being WAY sadder than i originally intended. i am so sorry anon oh my god
i gave you a rare gift (but you didn't want it) — luke castellan
pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader
word count: 2.8k
content: angst, major character/reader death, unrequited love, mutual pining, reader is part of kronos' army, luke and reader are doomed by the narrative, [Y/N] used (sparingly), alcohol mention, description of injury
listening to: bloodfest (from mizumono) by brian reitzell
You are twenty-two years old, sitting on the rocky beach of a lake somewhere in the forests of upstate New York. Light, gentle fog hangs in the air around you, and the only sound is the tap-tap-tap of Luke skipping rocks across the water.
Come dawn, the world will burn. The gods will be dethroned. Every demigod will either be free, or dead.
But now, at midnight, you are twenty-three and Luke turns to you. He's holding a small, squashed cupcake in one hand. "Happy birthday," he says, "to my right-hand man." He pauses. "Woman. Right-hand woman."
He holds the pastry out to you and smiles, but something behind his eyes is empty. Hollow. He hadn't been sleeping recently. As much as he tried to hide it, he couldn't stop you from seeing when he came to you every morning for a cup of coffee and to debrief for the day.
Perks of being the revolution leader's best friend, you think. His right-hand woman.
Luke's eyes flick from the cake to your face. "Do you like it?" He asks, and for a split second, you swear there's a note of hope in his voice. "I wanted to do something, y'know," he says. "Twenty-three is huge. It's a monumental age."
You nod, but stay quiet.
He pauses for a second. "You remember how you always said you wished you never had a birthday?"
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When you were twelve, nearly thirteen, your mother drove you across the country to go to summer camp.
"It'll be like a road trip," she said, tossing your duffel bag into the back seat of her battered car. "And then, hey, you'll only stay at camp until the end of August, and then you can come back and go to school. See all your friends again." She squeezed your shoulder and pushed the car door closed. "How about that?"
"Sure," you said. "Super fun."
And it was; you were actually kind of excited. You'd never been to New York. It seemed a million universes away.
And it was your birthday tomorrow. Maybe this was a gift, something that your mother had put together to make up for the years of being too tired and too drunk to make a cake, or get presents, or anything.
Your mother put her hands on her hips and sighed. "You know how I feel about the attitude, yeah? Let's not do this today."
"I wasn't even trying to—" You cut off as your mother glared at you, her face tense. You knew that look: the biting-the-inside-of-her-cheek, trying-to-be-understanding, trying-to-be-a-good-mom-despite-it-all look.
You hated that look.
"Just..." She sighed. "Just get in the damn car, [Y/N]."
You did, fighting back the tears building in the corners of your eyes, and the slam of the car door closing was as loud as thunder.
Twenty silent minutes of city streets and highway merge ramps and cold, empty stretches of asphalt and concrete passed before either of you spoke.
"Mom," you said, thirty-three seconds into minute twenty-one, "I'm sorry for talking back earlier." Your voice was quiet, shaking, cupped in your throat like a scared animal.
She didn't answer, keeping her eyes fixed on the road.
"I don't like being like this, Mom," you said, looking over at her. The silhouette of her through the driver's side window, backlit by the streetlights, was shapeless. Impassive. "I don't like doing this with you all the time."
She scoffed.
You pulled your legs to your chest, tucking your head between your knees, and tried to find sleep.
You weren't sure how long you slept, but you woke up to the sound of music playing softly over the speakers. Exit signs whizzed past you at what felt like breakneck speed. You wondered, briefly, if you would break your neck if you jumped out of the car right now.
Ultimately you decided against it. You didn't want your mother's last words to you to be, get in the damn car.
That would make her feel guilty, you thought, and that guilt would make her hate me even more.
"I don't wanna fight," you tried instead, picking at a loose thread in the cuff of your jacket sleeve. "Mom, I'm sorry, okay? I don't want us to be mad at each other anymore," you said. A sob caught in your throat, heavy and wet and choking.
Your mother sighed and reached one hand from the wheel to tuck your hair behind your ear. "I know you don't, sweetie," she said. "I don't want to be mad at you either."
"Then why do you do it," you asked.
When she turned to look at you, her eyes were wet. She smiled, or tried to. "Sometimes, certain people just…can't help but fight," she said. "It's just part of who we are, I think."
"Did you fight with Dad?"
Your mother inhaled, quick and sharp through her nose, as she flicked the turn signal to right and guided the car down the exit ramp from the highway, her eyes locked ahead. "Yes," she said. "Sometimes. Sometimes I think that's where we get it."
You swallowed. "Do you ever miss him?"
She doesn't peel her gaze away from the road. "Every day."
The two of you made your way through bustling streets and across too many bridges to count. You thought you fell asleep again, for a minute or maybe a year. Maybe it was all a dream.
"Mom," you asked as she turned onto a worn dirt road, the sunrise barely stretching over the horizon, "why are you bringing me here?"
She didn't answer for a moment. Two moments, then three. Through the leaves, you saw one tree standing impossibly tall. A pine tree.
Your mother parked the car and turned to you. "Because I don't know what to do with you, [Y/N]," she said. "I don't know how I can keep you," she paused, "safe. How I could do this, on my own, in any normal way."
She got out of the car and grabbed your bag, shoving it against your chest. "Camp is just up that hill there," she said, gesturing in the direction of the large tree you'd seen earlier. "They’ve got people up there waiting for you."
"Mom," you said. "Wait, I—I wanted to talk to you—"
She shook her head. "I can't come with you, sweetie." She smiled, the curve of her mouth falling just short of her eyes. "You just remember that I love you, okay?"
At that moment, you knew: she was going to leave you here.
“No,” you said, tears rolling down your face. “No, no—Mom. Mom, please.”
“Before you go,” she said, her voice tight and sharp, “I wanted to give you this.” She reached into the back seat and pulled out a jacket, worn leather with patched elbows. “It was mine in college,” she explained, not meeting your eyes. Like she was reading from a play or book, and you were the unfortunate audience. “I figure, it doesn’t fit me anymore.” 
She pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Happy birthday, baby.”
It was the first time you had ever felt like your mother loved you. You knew she liked you, sometimes. But you were never quite sure if she loved you until that moment. 
And then she got back into the car with one final, teary nod. 
And you never saw her again.
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“Yeah,” you tell Luke, shrugging. “I think I’ve got a pretty good reason, though.” Your lips curve into a smile.
He laughs and tilts his head. It’s a habit of his; he’ll say something and twist his neck just a fraction, narrow his eyes. A nervous tic that not even years of training and fighting and killing could stamp out.
You used to think about kissing his neck when he did it, but now you’re not sure whether you would know the difference between kissing and ripping his throat out. 
“True,” Luke concedes. You laugh, too, unrestrained and loud. “Gods, your sense of humor is dark.”
“You laughed first,” you remind him. He grins.
The cupcake he offers you, despite its lumps and smears of frosting, is pretty good. You split it apart with careful fingers and hand half of it back to him.
“You’re celebrating with me,” you laugh, “so you get half. That’s the rule.”
Luke simply smiles at you and takes the crumbling cake from your hand. “Whatever you say.”
You roll your eyes, grinning back. “Damn right.”
Luke’s laugh rings out again, sharp and bright against the night sky. Firelight flickers across his face, painting him in brilliant streaks of orange and gold. 
“After tomorrow,” Luke murmurs, pulling his knees up to his chest, “we can do this whenever we want.” The wind ruffles his hair almost fondly, floppy brown curls stirring and settling back against his skull.
You raise an eyebrow. “This?”
He gestures in a wide arc. “Be here, like this. Just be people, instead of demigods or heroes or revolutionaries.” Luke’s voice picks up, conviction surging into his words. “I mean, seriously—when was the last time you thought you would ever have a normal life?”
You’d never understood the demigods who joined Luke’s cause without knowing him. The plan itself seemed crazy—the only way anyone would follow it was if they knew their leader could pull it off. 
You have to know Luke to know he was capable of that, you think.
Until now. Now, you see what you think everyone else sees—a real leader, a revolutionary. A force for change with a silver tongue.
He makes it all seem so possible. You almost think he might pull it off.
Luke looks over to you. “We’re going to change everything,” he says. 
Almost.
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“We’re going to change the rules,” Luke said, spreading the map over an empty cot in his cabin. “If we want to win, we need to be thinking six steps ahead of the enemy.”
A few of the campers huddled around the makeshift table shuffled and coughed awkwardly. 
“Every strategy’s been done before,” a tall girl with bubblegum-pink hair and an eyebrow piercing shouted from the back of the group. “How are we going to out-war the god of war’s kids?” 
Murmurs rushed around the table, soft and susurrant. There’s no way we’re going anywhere here. We’ve gotten our asses beat six weeks in a row. What are we even doing?
Luke smiled. “Ares is the god of war,” he said, “not strategy.” He slung his arm around one of the campers next to him and inclined his head in the direction of the map.
Quietly, almost too quiet for you to hear, he murmured into the girl’s ear. “Don’t doubt yourself, Bethy,” he whispered.
You learned three things in the ten minutes that she spent explaining your team’s new strategy—
—one, your team was going to kick some major ass—
—two, your strategist’s name was Annabeth Chase, and she was the smartest eight-year-old you have ever met—
—and three, Luke was right.
Annabeth’s plan took the rules of Capture the Flag and threw them out the window. She split the team into four subgroups, each with a delegated leader. Luke nodded along as she talked, marking the map with a stubby pencil. 
When Annabeth’s eyes, dark and piercing, searched the crowd and landed on you, you felt your heart stop.
“You,” she said, “are you good with a sword?”
You raised your eyebrow, pointing to yourself—just to confirm this genius child was speaking to you—and Annabeth nodded. 
“I guess?” You said, shrugging. “I know some basic stuff, and I’m good at disarming.”
Annabeth’s face broke into a smile. “Work with Luke on the first wave of offense.” She gestured to the map. “You two will take points B and B-one,” she explained. “My group will take the A-points. You wait for our signal to move in.”
You met Luke’s eyes across the table. Hey, you mouthed. 
His eyes flicked up and down your form. Hey, he mouthed back. You ready to win?
You smiled and nodded.
Good, Luke said, all teeth. Let’s go.
He stood and grabbed his helmet. You did the same.
“I’m [Y/N],” you said as you followed Luke through the forest. “We, uh—we met when I first got here, like, a year ago.” I was sobbing my eyes out because my mother abandoned me, you didn’t add. It was kind of pathetic. I think I threw up from crying so hard.
You suddenly hoped Luke didn’t remember meeting you, actually. That would be less embarrassing.
He turned and caught your eye. “You live in the same cabin as me. ‘Course I know you.” 
Of course he remembers.
You laughed, flushing red. “Oh. Yeah. Of course.”
The silence was so thick, you could have cut it with the sleek bronze of your sword.
In the end, it was Luke who broke the silence. “You wanna play a game while we wait out here?”
You shrugged. “Sure,” you said. 
“Twenty questions,” Luke replied. “So we can learn enough about each other to actually work together.” He smiled. “What’s your favorite color?”
“Low-hanging fruit,” you said, your voice just barely taking on a teasing tone. “It’s green.” 
Luke laughed, loud and full and bright. “Apologies,” he said; mirth crept into his words, staining everything with a tinge of that laughter. “I’ll go for the more gut-wrenching, intimate questions next time.”
You flushed red again. Intimate questions. What the hell does he mean by that?
“My turn,” you said instead. “What do you want to be when you get older?”
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“We’ll be heroes,” Luke whispers. “Real heroes. Not figureheads propped up by the gods.”
You wish you could believe him. He’s lying on the beach next to you, his head resting in the junction between your shoulder and your neck. Over the treetops, the stars are beginning to fade from the sky.
It’s almost time.
Your throat feels like someone has sanded it down to expose your vocal cords. This is a bad idea, you want to say. We shouldn’t do this. Tell me we can still not do this. 
“Wanna play twenty questions?” You say, crackling and hoarse.
Luke turns to look at you. “Yeah,” he murmurs. 
“My turn first,” you whisper. Luke nods.
You take a deep breath, in and out. “Are we going to die doing this?”
Luke inhales sharply. “Maybe,” he says. Slowly. Deliberately. “But we’ll do everything we can to make sure we don’t.”
“I got another question,” you say. Luke raises an eyebrow. His knuckles brush yours as you sit up.
“Are you scared?”
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It’s your birthday. 
You think you’re going to die. 
Luke is kneeling over you, the palm of his hand pressed against the wet opening in your stomach where someone had caught you with a spear. The shaft of it is still sticking out of you, you think. You’re afraid to look down, afraid to see it. 
“No,” Luke gasps, “no, no, no.”
You watch as the gold fades from his eye, leaving behind the honey-dark brown you remember. His hands are slick with blood—most of it’s probably yours, it has to be yours. You’re bleeding out, after all. 
You tug on Luke’s sleeve weakly. “Hey,” you breathe. “Luke. It’s okay, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”
“No,” he says. “You’re—you’re hurt.”
“I know,” you rasp. “I know it hurts. I’m the one—” 
You break off as a cough sticks in your throat. It feels wet. Oily. Desperate to get out. You taste the blood in the back of your throat before you can even take another breath.
“—I’m the one who’s feeling it,” you finish, your voice tilting up at the end. A joke. Gods, your sense of humor is dark.
Luke laughs weakly. “Don’t talk,” he says. “You’re gonna be just fine, [Y/N], just fine.”
He meets your eyes. You see him realize it in slow motion.
Tell him. Tell him now. He’s never going to know otherwise—he could die any minute—
“Luke,” you murmur. “Luke, did you know I loved you?”
He freezes. “What?”
You cough again. Blood spills over your lips. “I loved you,” you repeat. “Since we were campers. Had the…the biggest, stupidest crush on you.”
Luke shakes his head. “No, no,” he says. “You—”
“You’re my best friend,” you continue. “Whatever feelings were there, you’re my best friend.”
Luke’s palm against your stomach is warm. It feels safe. It feels like sleeping side-by-side in the cabin, like shared meals and shared secrets. 
“Why are you telling me this?” Luke says, “why are you—why?”
You blink, just once, but it takes everything you have to open your eyes again after closing them. “Because I’m going to die,” you whisper. “And even if—even though I moved on, I wanted you to…to know.”
Luke bows over your body, pressing his forehead to yours. Tears slip from his cheeks and fall onto yours, driving little rivers through the blood smeared there.
He’s crying. Why is he—
“You idiot,” Luke says brokenly. “I loved you too. I loved you too.” He cradles your head in his lap, brushing your hair away from your face. “[Y/N], I’m so sorry.”
Your eyes slip shut.
I loved you too, Luke’s voice echoes. I loved you too.
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shanastoryteller · 2 months
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Happy vday
Can you do a pjo or God's and monsters, or dealers choice! 1💜
a continuation of 1 2
Luke thinks that this really is the end, here in this dirty alley in the middle of Chicago. He's going to die and Thalia's going to die and Annabeth is going to die and it's all going to be his fault because he's the oldest and this was his idea and he's an idiot.
He almost calls out for his father, but he knows it would be a waste of breath. Hermes is never there when he needs him.
The monster is bearing down on them and there's no storm clouds for Thalia to summon lightning and he just has his gold club and Annabeth's dagger just isn't enough to kill this thing dead.
Except instead of teeth and pain and death, there's a boy jumping on the monster's back, tan skin and dark hair and swinging a jeweled celestial bronze blade like Luke's never seen before.
He's good with a sword, his skills honed over the years where it was either victory or death, but this guy moves quickly and powerfully, his moves fluid in a way that Luke didn't know a person could move while swinging around a deadly hunk of sharp metal.
The monster dies in a shower of golden sparks. The boy turns to look at them, eyes a green with hints of gold, and a grin that that shows off his very white teeth.
He can't be more than a year or two older than him. Luke feels his face heat and hates himself for it.
Luckily Thalia doesn't notice because she's too busy staring at their savior. "What the - who are you?"
He taps his sword twice on the ground and it shrinks, turning into a ring that he slips one while bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Wow that was really - that can't have happened last time."
"What are you talking about?" Annabeth demands, scowl firmly in place.
"Don't worry about it," he says. "I'm Percy. It looks like you guys could use some help."
"You're a demigod," Luke says cautiously, because what else could he be, but if there was a demigod like this walking around he feels like he would have heard of it.
"Sure am," he says. "You guys are attracting a lot of trouble traveling together." He pauses for a beat then asks, "Want to attract some more?"
"No," Annabeth and Thalia answer at the same time.
"Sure," Luke says.
They're glaring at him, but what did they expect?
He's the son of the god of thieves.
And Percy is just asking to be stolen.
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wickedcriminal · 3 months
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THE OL' QUARTER (or pearl) IN THE EAR
Spiritual successor to this. he gets it from his dad
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ma1dita · 3 months
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Duddee, now you gotta write luke proposing to trouble, you simply cannot now IBHBHKK
the perfect weekend
a ‘partners in crime’ alternate universe installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader
alternate universe masterpost
words: 1.2k (this was too cute the word count escaped me)
summary: alternate universe - the perfect weekend with your perfect boy, even if he thinks otherwise
a/n: happy luke happy luke happy luke FIANCE LUKE 
(posted 2/4/23 unbetad and written on caffeine)
This weekend felt like a dream.
Luke took you to your favorite spots that you’ve both carved memories out of in Westport, buying you and his mom gorgeous fresh flowers from the farmers’ market, and he let you drag him around his hometown, spending hours in tiny antique shops and the record store on Main Street. He couldn’t get over how you always found fun in the simple things— even going to the pharmacy to pick up his mom’s medication felt like going to Disney World with you. He couldn’t be more sure of his decision, it was almost inconceivable to spend another day without you being his fiancee.
But luck wasn’t known to be on his side, after all (yeah, thanks dad). Luke’s always had to work harder to get what he wants, and he’s spent the past few years trying to prove himself to your dad—though deep down, he thinks Mr. D doesn’t mind him as much as he makes it seem. (Asking him for his blessing last week over a bottle of wine and a bone-shaking hug scared the wits out of him. He pretended to not notice the god cry.)
Luke just wants to give you what you deserve. And if he needs to spend the rest of his life working on it to prove it, he ought to do it with you by his side.
But he couldn’t think of how.
He tried proposing over dinner last night, with the smell of burnt cookies in the air, but that wasn’t romantic at all, and his hands were shaking so hard he knocked a glass over, prompting you and his mom to fuss over the mess and giggle over his silliness. You both chatted deep into the night, Luke sitting quietly and nodding at two of his favorite women babbling about who knows what (Sometimes he’s still convinced you like his mom more than him, but the way you both take care of him makes him tear up if he thinks too hard about it).
When you went horseriding this afternoon, he set up a picnic for lunch, which was romantic. Chocolate-covered strawberries and sandwiches made by mom, sparkling cider twinkling in the sun. Luke was sure it was going to be great timing— until he realized the ring box fell out of his pocket again, and he slipped in manure trying to rush you back to the house (The sound of your laughter at clumsiness made his heart warm though, and it almost made up for the three hours he looked for the stupid box in the grass that night when you fell asleep with his tiny Star Wars-themed flashlight).
He woke you up early before the sun rose, carrying you out to the car still bundled up in his old Toy Story throw blanket that you wouldn’t let him toss out when he brought it to college (The faded pictures of Buzz and Woody kept a smile on your face, and the memories it brought make you feel connected to 9-year-old Luke). The drive to the beach was short, a sleepy smile on your face as you felt Luke grab onto your hand, sand getting between your toes before he laid out a blanket and the both of you sat down.
Cracking open a redbull for the both of you to sip on, you leaned against his muscled frame, legs hanging over his lap as he wiped the sand off your feet, holding you close as he smiled.
“Good morning, handsome,” you grinned, leaning up for a kiss. Luke obliged, savoring the taste of you mixed with sleep and artificial peach. Your noses nudge against each other before he mumbles a reply, “Good morning, pretty girl.”
“Y’know? I could die happy just like this. I can’t think of anything else that would make this weekend more perfect.”
Luke hummed in contemplation, “I could think of a few things,” he said, as a laugh bubbled from his lips. A noise of confusion rose from you as you reached up to dust lint off his shirt before your knee nudged something hard in his pocket, and your eyebrow raised in mischief.
“Dirty boy, you get me out of your mom’s house and you’re already excited?”
And he laughed the stress off until it freed itself from his bones, pure elation radiating off of him before Eos even had a chance to spread her first rays of light into the sky. 
He’s never needed perfect.
He just needs you.
His hands dug into his pocket, pulling out the ring box that’s caused him so much trouble this weekend. But a life with you should’ve already prepared him for that—and the shock on your face became funnier when you launched yourself on top of him, kicking up sand and taking the air out of his lungs.
You both hit the ground with a loud thud, your nose buried in his chest as he chuckles at your scream. Why was he even worried to begin with? 
“Wait, wait, I still have something to say trouble, don’t jump ahead of the script!”
His hand rubbed your back in gentle strokes as he popped the box open to reveal a delicate golden band with two diamonds juxtaposed against each other sitting pretty on top.
“It’s always been you and me. And I’ve spent hours thinking of what to say, days trying to figure out when the time would be right, months working for a pretty ring that’s perfect for you, years loving you… and well… I want more. I want this, you and me spending the rest of our lives together because I can’t comprehend a future without you. I’d do anything for you trouble, and I don’t believe in much, but I believe in you. Us.”
You’ve cried so hard by this point that you’re convinced it’s so goddamn ugly but Luke smiles at you like he’s been promised immortality. And perhaps he has, with the future you two will have scrolling through his mind like an old film, a house on a hill, kids, a dog, shit—whatever you want as long as he’s with you it’ll be the closest thing to forever he’d have.
“Are you sure?” you said sniffling, and your boyfriend wiped your tears away like he has countless times before, though happy tears are something he’ll have to get used to.
“I literally ruined your proposal, I just thought you were horny, oh my gods…” Whining loudly and laughing, you held your shaking hand out as he sat up to put the ring on your finger.
“Well, we can fix that later. I still have a question to ask, after all.”
Luke grinned when your head nodded rapidly, finally shutting up so you wouldn’t interrupt him again.
“Will you,” he says so surely now, saying your name before continuing, “let me have the honor of spending the rest of our lives together as your husband?”
“Gods, yes. Fucking hell angelface, did you really think I’d say no?”
The both of you laughed through tears and snot as he placed the ring on your left hand, and still, it couldn’t be more perfect.
“A life with trouble is the life for me,” he mused, laughing as you covered his face in kisses before the both of you fell back into the sand a tangle of lips and lust and love.
You jolted up from your fiance’s embrace just as he thought he was going to get lucky, almost emptying your entire wallet of drachmas into the sand-covered blanket to Iris message your friends.
---
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(pics are not representative of reader's appearance or gender just a lil visual for funsies)
ask to be added to general/luke taglists!
luke taglist (struck out won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @nininehaaa @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun
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transannabeth · 3 months
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Are the buttons in ghost trick really ghost and trick /gen
i would never lie to you about the ghost and trick buttons. you ghost or you trick you trick or you ghost
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whatsitzface · 4 months
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The way Annabeth was thinking so far ahead of Percy that Percy was confused. The way she refused to elaborate on anything, and then was like; 'I'm surrounded by idiots' whenever someone (Percy) didn't understand her. The way she looked so smug after she pushed Percy into the water and he got claimed. THE WAY SHE WAS SO BLUNT!!!!! ("ARE YOU STALKING ME??" "yeah lol")
Sorry, but that's the most accurate Annabeth in the world holy smokes Leah did such a good job. All my forgotten love for Annabeth's character that I felt while reading the books just crashed into me full force and I'm frothing at the mouth with obsession.
“-You’re gonna expect me to know how to do something I don’t know how to do, and I end up falling flat on my face, I- I can’t really have that right now.” “You still don’t get where you fit into all of this, do you?” SHE’S TALKING ABOUT THE PROPHECY AND HOW SHE KNOWS HE'S A POSIEDON KID, BUT SHE HIDES IT AS HOW HE DOESN’T KNOW HIS PLACE IN THE CAPTURE THE FLAG GAME!!!! BECAUSE SHE WON’T TELL HIM!!!! AND ITS EPIC BECAUSE IN THE CAPTURE THE FLAG GAME HE DOES FALL FLAT ON HIS FACE, BUT IN THE PROPHECY HE DOES GET HIS DAD TO SEE HIM!!!! And then she fixes his armor plate, making sure that its secure. Making sure he won't get hurt. That's not part of her plan, and things always go according to her plan. She's the game master. IM SCREAMING
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mmavverickk · 7 months
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The children of the big three are painfully beautiful.
beautiful as poisonous flowers.
One touch and you're dead.
they are though—they’re venomous creatures, poisonous flowers, forces of nature. the world itself runs through their veins. gods treat them with caution; mere humans don’t stand a chance.
Percy is a riptide. he’s the calm of ocean, moments before its rage. he’s the sun on the beach, the warmth of the sand, the calming, constant crash of the waves. he’s the smell of the salt in the air and the cold of the water against your skin. you can swim, you think, you’ll be fine. he smiles and it’s more beautiful than a sunset over the shore. and then the pull starts. in seconds, you’re farther from shore than you’ve ever been before. trying to swim back tires you out and sees you no closer than before. in fact, now you’re even farther out. the water pulls you under, still as beautiful as it was from shore, and you can’t find your way back up.
Thalia is the eye of the hurricane. the deceitful calm at the end of the storm, luring you out from your shelter. there is nothing more peaceful, more still and tranquil. the sun peeks out from the clouds that surround you from all sides. the wind and rain have died. there’s a rainbow in the sky. the storm is over—except it isn’t. one moment is all it takes, and the hurricane is back with a vengeance. the wind tears at you, rain lashes at you, thunder shakes your bones in place. you walked too far from your shelter, and you might not be able to make your way back.
Jason is hail. the rain is beautiful. it’s a breathtaking storm: impressive thunder, streaking lightning, howling wind. the house shakes around you and the lights go out. the concussive sound of the rain on the roof is soothing, until it isn’t. until it isn’t rain, and the roof isn’t whole. now, the storm is invading your home. the hail is punching its way into everything it can reach. car alarms spring to life outside; those who were watching in awe are now fleeing in terror. it only takes one hit, after all—one lucky piece of hail—to end a life.
Nico is an earthquake. the planet is ancient; the ground was old before you were here and it will be old after you go. it’s sturdy, and supportive, provides life and food and shelter. long ago, when the ground danced, when it shook itself free and sent cities tumbling to the ground, they called it the gods’ wrath. now, it’s called plate tectonics. no matter what it is, no matter why it happens, it is lethal and dangerous and uncaring of those it affects. nowhere is safe when the world turns on you, and if it decides you and your shelter should fall, you will.
Hazel is a sinkhole. the appearance of stability, of rock-solid ground and firm foundations. nothing is wrong, will ever be wrong, she’s the rock that holds everyone up. and then that rock is gone, and you’re falling, down, down, down—your home collapsing around you, your belongings claimed by the morbidly hungry earth. there’s a light at the end of the tunnel, but is it sunlight, far, far above you? or is it magma, far far below?
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demigods-posts · 11 days
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I think Percy would discover he could blood bend accidentally. I think that after Akhlys, he knew he could blood bend, but he never tried it. Like, during the heat of a battle, someone tries to get Annabeth, and he gets this heavy tugging in his gut and suddenly the guy is spilling blood from all his orifices.
@hibiscusspunweb I agree! If I could expand on this headcanon:
I think Percy would be afraid of that part of himself because he associates it with the one time he scared Annabeth. He'd compare himself to Gabe, asking himself if he's as bad as him since he had to use fear to get his way. It isn't until he accidentally does it, scaring himself and Annabeth, that he tries to suppress that power — something he's never done with any of his abilities before. Unsurprisingly, it takes a toll on him because the sea does not like to be restrained. Poseidon eventually has to step in and reassure him that blood-bending is a dangerous practice, but using it in moderation is not inherently bad under necessary circumstances, like Tartarus. After some reflection, Percy and Annabeth sit down and have a genuine discussion about this ability and move toward understanding it (and each other) instead of trying to ignore it.
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faytears · 6 months
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percy is middle eastern (specifically lebanese) argue with god
are headcanons about percys ethnicity still cool in 2023. idk im forcing you all to look at it anyway
no way in hell would the entire fucking country look at a little 12 year old white boy and be like "yeah I definitely believe that this child is a terrorist" like they did in TLT
described as looking 'Mediterranean', tans easily
not uncommon for ppl in the levant to have the dark hair/complexion + light eyes combo
also not uncommon for (non-muslim) swana ppl in the US to have vaguely western-sounding names. his last name was anglicized don't ask questions
fun nod to civilizations like the phoenicians being seafarers, poseidon's multiple connections to phoenicia in greek myth + historically being worshipped in the area
he would use the heinous insults that exist in arabic as casually as one would talk about the weather. he doesnt even actually know arabic he just knows how to say fuck you in all its iterations.
just realized how funny this hc would be in light of that comment he made in SoM shitting on hummus LMAOOOOOO
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sexxyasia · 2 months
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polaroid [luke castellan x !fem! reader]
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ABOUT: after the camp perv; luke goes through your things to find a pair of your panties he finds a scandalous polaroid you took of yourself and takes it back to his bunk, when you find out he's been jerking off to your picture and panties, but when you notice your shit was gone you confront him. but, you ended give him what he wants most.
tysm anon for sending this beautiful request 😋 (send anons, get weird w it too, idc ill write abt it!!!)
WARNINGS : told in 3rd person, pet names (reader & luke), cursing, p in v, use of y/n, kinda soft sex, luke is kinda soft dom if u read between the lines... squirting (i kinda have a kink so...), protected sex FINALLY 🥳, luke jerking off to a picture of you and to ur panties :3, luke deadass stealing ur shit, luke is being a little shit towards ur siblings so, thats that... luke being nosy and sniffing ur underwear (what a freak amirite!) and the reader can be any race (no shit) but i intended for her to be black bc i am but idc...
MDNI :P (wait until ur 17+ stink stink... if u think thats dumb, i MIGHT have to click that block button)
PEEP THE NEW BANNER (its still a gif, but im working on it... its a little bit better tho...)
luke ran as fast as he could to your cabin when he saw you going to the showers, shoving kids out the way and busting open the door to the athena cabin.
"oh hey luke!" one of your siblings said. "y/n's in the shower, take a message?"
"fuck no, move!" luke said in a sassy tone going straight for your underwear drawers
"what're you lookin' for luke?" one of your siblings ask
luke looks your younger brother up and down before scoffing.
"something you dont need to see? now move!" luke says while shooing your siblings off.
"well the only thing you're gonna find in there is underwear, trust me. i was looking through her things to find her diary to read to my friends, and i found girly underwear instead..!" your younger brother jokes.
luke sideyes him until he moves out of his sight. whipping his head back and forth to see if anyone saw him, luke shoved a light blue thong into his front pocket.
while he continued looking through the drawer, he was left disappointed. until he found an upside down polaroid in the back of the drawer.
he flips the photo before gasping in pure shock.
a picture of you, nude... your perky tits, your big soft ass, your curvy hips all on display in the one photo.
he continued digging through your property before finding another polaroid. this one you sat with your freshly shaven fat cunt taking up almost all of the space on the little piece of film.
luke shoves the pictures into the pocket with your panties and closes the drawer, "couldn't find it, thanks for distracting me you fuckin’ shit face." luke stupidly responded to your younger brother before running back to the hermes cabin.
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when you came back from your shower you picked up your clothes and went straight for your underwear drawer to find something to put on. but you couldn't find your underwear, or your strategically placed polaroids that you purposefully hid under your bras in the back corner.
"was anyone snooping in my stuff, i can't find anything..." you asked your brother.
"i dont know, im not the police of your underwear or something!" he whined.
he left the room to go to the weekly campfire. the only place luke couldn't possibly be because he got his privilege taken after he was caught jerking off in the showers.
when all of a sudden you got to thinking and realized who took your things, the most promiscuous boy at camp, also known as luke.
quickly you dressed and stormed out of your cabin going straight for the hermes cabin knowing luke would be there.
you didn't know what he'd be doing, but you had a good guess.
you still decided not to think about the consequences of going into the camp pervs cabin unannounced during his "alone time"
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you opened the front door to the hermes cabin to see your panties clutched in his hand with the polaroid resting on his thigh, his eyes hazy and low but still fixated on the photo. his big hand quickly stroked up and down on his thick cock.
"oh my god, you really are a perv!" you yelled out.
his gaze shifted to you. eyes instantly locking with yours, yet he didn't stop
"hey baby, thought you'd be at the campfire by now..."
he stood up, still stroking and walked over to you.
"we're not together and you know that, and stop jerking off to me and on me! you're so weird." you whined
"or what" he whispered, his hand traveling from his dick to your shoulder. "i know you like seeing me like this, naked, sweaty, and horny for the most sexy, delicious girl at camp."
you sighed, trying to ignore the sea of lubricant your cunt was making in your shorts.
"i dont even like you, perv..." you said brushing him off of you.
he shook his head and pointed down.
"what about that... you may not like me but she sure does. you" luke says pointing to the crotch of your shorts.
your juices leaked through the light wash shorts you put on since you had on on underwear to catch it.
"you knew what you were doing coming here without underwear on. you wanted me to see you like this..."
he got behind you and rubbed his hand up and down your back.
"how do you know i didn't put underwear on..?" you asked.
luke chuckled "you dont get camel toe and soaking shorts from putting on an extra layer. i may not be the smartest, but im not stupid. hell even the most gullible idiot could tell you didn't put any on..." he snappily replied.
you placed your hand over your crotch and looked at him. "if we do this, you cant tell anyone... ok?" you said
"yes ma'am" he said with a shit eating grin on his face.
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slowly luke rolled a condom on, "i always keep these handy incase i get lucky." he said with a smirk.
his hands wander in between your thighs to your dripping cunt "you're already so wet, and loose for me baby. thats what i love to see" he praises while leaving hickeys all over and around your erect nipples.
"you wanna get on top mama..." he says while massaging your throbbing g-spot.
"yes." you said slowly trying not to moan too loud
luke sits up straight while you lower yourself onto his cock.
"more like this baby." he says with his hands on your hips guiding you to move a little smoother.
looking down into his big brown eyes, you ride on luke slowly while messing with the curls on his head.
low grunts and slight moans escape lukes mouth every once in a while.
"you feel so good sweetie" he praises
your eyes are shut tight and your mouth his completely sealed before you respond.
"you feel even better, you fill me so fucking good." you answer back.
"wanna do doggy or something?" he suggests, you nod in response. luke quickly flips you onto your stomach and into the new position.
his long girthy cock feels even better from this angle, filling you completely making you almost scream his name out after every stroke.
luke speeds up as well as rubbing your clit and whispering nasty phrases in your ear everytime you throw your head back as a pleasure response.
speeding up, luke curses to himself about how good and wet you are.
confidence fills luke to the brim, he pulls your hair forcing you to look up at him. "look at me while i fuck you.. good girl, keep fucking looking at me like that"
luke lets go of your hair and looks down between the two of you, he watches as his cock slides in and out of you so smoothly, how your perfect pussy leaves opaque white rings around the base of his girthy member.
to his suprise you quickly begin fucking him back, his movements stop completely as he lets you do the work of slamming your phat ass onto his cock, making him almost whimper in pleasure.
"just like that... oh- you're s'fucking good dont fucking stop." he says looking up at the ceiling trying not to cum too quick.
his hand speeds on your clit making you whimper and squirm until you mess up his sheets with your liquids.
your dripping pussy squirts out all the sexual frustrations you've been holding in since you got to camp last year.
"good girl, just like that, keep fucking me. you can do it baby. make me cum, make me cum, make me cum." he whined out while using your slightly overstimulated pussy to chase his high.
"im fucking cumming, dont stop..." luke whispered "holy shit..."
you felt the condom fill with his hot seed after his release.
"thank you so much baby." luke says
"i guess i should go, they're gonna be back soon." you said
luke nodded and took off the condom. you both dressed and went your separate ways.
"oh, i almost forgot." luke handed you your items. "no keep them." you responded. "i need a reason to come back tomorrow, dont i?" you whispered into his ear smoothly.
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THATS ITTT, COMMET IF U WANNA BE IN MY TAGLIST YALL
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lilislegacy · 7 days
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I feel like so many people understate how important Annabeth and Percy’s relationship to each other is. People tend to view it as just a romantic relationship but it’s not. Their each other’s best friend, life partners, war partners, family, and very literal soul mates. People rarely find a significant other with two of those aspects let alone all of them.
thanks for the ask @darkmist111!
i agree completely. that’s why i loved that line in HoH when annabeth said that ‘boyfriend’ wasn’t a good enough word for percy because he’s so much more than that to her. as she said herself, he’s part of her. and she’s part of him. they aren’t just boyfriend and girlfriend. although they do love each other romantically/sexually and have a ton of chemistry and attraction towards each other, they also are best friends in the whole world. percy says many times in pjo that annabeth is his best friend, even when they’re fighting. they have the best time together. they want to do everything together. they are besties. their friendship is incredibly strong.
i also feel like people underestimate what it means to be battle partners. they trust each other in life or death situations. they know each other’s moves. they know what the other can take. they’ve experienced so much fear and pain and stress together. they’ve carried the weight of the world on their shoulders together. multiple times. literally and figuratively. being battle partners means that they have a level of trust and admiration that can only come from that kind of partnership.
i love this line in BotL
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she doesn’t even hesitate to ask him first to come with her, and he doesn’t even hesitate to say yes. but it’s also like that in every book. if they are going on an adventure, they are going together
the thing about percy and annabeth is that they aren’t just meant to be together. i mean they are, and if soulmates are real in rick’s world, then they are 100% soulmates. but it’s not just fate. its choice. they choose each other. every day. to be their best friend. to be their lover. to be their battle partner. to be their confidant. with the life they got handed, they don’t get a lot of choices. they don’t get to choose what their life looks like. or their future. the minute their godly parents gave them life, they lost the the ability to choose a lot of things for themselves. but percy and annabeth choose each other. every dam time. and that’s what i love about them
anyway sorry for rambling, but i completely agree. they are each other’s everything. words can’t explain how much they mean to each other
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shanastoryteller · 3 months
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happy valentine’s day! could i get something pjo or hades?
a continuation of 1
Sally doesn't understand. "But where's my son?"
His face crumples before smoothing back out.
"Not that you're not my son!" she says hurriedly. Gods, he's going to grow up to look so much like his father. He's going to grow up powerful, which is something Poseidon had warned her about and she thought she'd taken it seriously, but now her almost adult son is in front of her and there's a presence to him that she'd clocked as his father's just as much as his hair and the breadth of his shoulders. "But. My son. When you go back to the future, he'll come back, right?"
"Mom," he starts, then presses his lips together. "I don't know."
She slowly lowers herself onto Percy's bed. Onto her Percy's bed. "Where is he now?"
"If he's still here, he's probably in the underworld," he says.
If. If. Her eyes burn. She'd just been wishing that Percy wasn't seven anymore, but she hadn't meant this.
"I have to go," he says, clearly trying to speak gently to her. "I'll try and find out, okay? I'll send you an Iris message."
"But," she starts, looking up at him. What's she supposed to do? Her son's gone. Her son's right in front of her, but he's leaving too.
He leans down, pressing a kiss to her forehead like he's the parent. "I'm sorry, Mom. I'm really sorry."
~
Percy thinks he might have killed himself.
He tries not to think about it as he dive into the Atlantic, the water surging over and around him as it propel him exactly where he wants to go.
This is a mission that he's not going to survive. He'd known that from the beginning. Persephone had warned him that his life would be forfeit before he'd done it.
He should have listened. He should have taken a single second to think it through before he'd accepted, even if he would have done it anyway, even if it felt like the only option left.
When he'd sat across from Persephone, her clothes black with mourning and a crown she didn't want on her head, he'd already been dead. So it couldn't be his life that was the cost. It had already been paid.
Now his mom is going to have to mourn him twice over. Maybe even three times over, when he dies here too. He's such a terrible kid. She deserves better. Estelle wouldn't do this to her.
Why the hell had she had a kid with a god? They all die young.
He sneaks through the patrol of Atlantis with ease. He knows the schedules and the patterns and nothing is really meant to keep him out anyway.
The armory, the most guarded part of the kingdom, opens at his first touch.
He's a loyal son of Poseidon. Nothing here is forbidden to him.
Granted, that's because they don't know to ward against him specifically, because he's supposed to be ignorant and seven and demigod children don't typically just go strolling into their parents domain.
Riptide is currently with Charon and ironically he'd have a much harder time stealing from him than his father. He walks the length of the armory, eyeing the tridents but moving on. If he wants to keep his parentage a secret, then that's definitely not the way to go.
He goes through about a dozen swords before finding one that feels loose and easy in his hands. It's a bit flashier than Riptide, emeralds along the hilt and interlocking silver patter worked in alongside the bronze.
Paper doesn't do so well underwater, so he scrapes in an IOU into the place the sword had been. Someone's going to notice it missing pretty quickly either way. His dad if he's lucky, Triton if he isn't, but he doesn't have the time to worry about it.
There are three kids out there who are going to need some help getting to Camp Half-Blood in one piece.
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