beach msby4 and beach femsby4 !! first (proper) colored hq art
found out recently that when u edit a post with a new version of your art it doesn’t update previous reblogs, and now i’m forever haunted by the fact that there are like 10 variations of my drawings out there. how am i supposed to live laugh love under these conditions
so now i’m trying to be more careful before posting, tryna wait a day or two after finishing the art so i can spot mistakes 🙂↕️
I've been cooking these lately and turned them into keychains. if you are interested, feel free to send me an email and lemme know! [email protected]
Price is $9 per keychains, or $35 for a full set of five. Please note that international shipping will be extra, and shipping restrictions may apply to certain countries!
In addition to the keychains, I'll also be selling the pin shown in the picture and Desert Duo keychains! Price is $9 per keychains, $10 per pin.
I'll start replying to previous emails today – if you're still interested or new, please email [[email protected]] before July 1st so we can track orders.
This is a pre-order: production takes about a week after July 1st, then shipping about 1–2 weeks. International shipping: ~$22 to the US, ~$15 to the UK/Australia.
Bonus: if you buy a set of 5 keychains, you get a free mini doodle – specify what you want in the email, or I'll draw an eefo by default 😉 Also, we have free stamps with any purchase – just mention it in your email!
Thanks so much for your support！！<3
please note that a set is 5 of lifeseries keychains, all lifeseries keychains will be 3*35+3*9=$132!
summary ☞ Life came difficult for the second best daughter of Athena, a dark tunnel of sadness and despair. Her light at the end of it came in the form of Percy Jackson.
word count ☞ 2.3k
warnings ☞ angst, hurt/comfort, themes of not being enough, mild bitterness, sadness, percy is a flirt, annabeth is the captain of percy x reader ship
mene's notes ☞ previously posted on @/selenewowww. was req'd by @perseusargent! diary entries taken from jacopo sol's "luci spente". pls leave a comment and a reblog!!!
dividers by ☞ @cursed-carmine and @cafekitsune
Annabeth this, Annabeth that. When will her turn come?
She loved her sister, truly. Everyone could see just how much she looked up to Annabeth, she was her role model. Her go–to person when she wasn't feeling her best, when their mother didn't acknowledge her efforts. For Gods’ sake, she used to follow her around Camp like a lost duckling!
So her deep–rooted and soul–consuming envy wasn't the fruit of hatred. No, not at all. It was the exact opposite.
What hurt most, though, was the constant comparison she inevitably did with her sister. Beautiful, intelligent— almost like their mother. Loved and feared by all. Wise to a greater extent and quick to give out directions in battle.
No one dared to disobey her. No one dared to even ruffle her feathers. She was everyone's hero, everyone’s favourite, the Architect of Olympus. Everyone’s first choice. Whether she… She was everyone's second choice.
Growing up in a messed up place such as Camp Half-blood, filled to the brim with teens with mummy and daddy issues alike, under Annabeth Chase’s shadow was not a stroll in the park. It meant always being surrounded by a crowd, but never really acknowledged, never truly seen. It meant being part of a conversation, but never heard, never taken into account, unless Annabeth was of the same opinion.
Deep inside her, words written in black ink into pages of her personal diary, she felt alone. How was that possible? She wasn't alone. Still, that was the feeling that reigned over her mind and heart. The feeling that often clouded her judgments, that held her back, that made her think of herself as a light, turned off by a stealthy creature of the night.
Her diary, oh her diary. It was her only confidant. The one thing that she crawled back to when everything felt too much. Secrets were spilt late in the nights, tucked under the comforting weight of her blankets. Hushed confessions were written in the margins, so small, in hopes that it was enough for her to ignore the next time she opened that page. Not important enough to be in the centre. Silly little thoughts she wanted gone.
Her diary wasn't a friend to her; no. It was the treasure chest of her real self. No filters, no forced smiles, no lies. Simply, her.
One page especially stood out. Completely blank, whereas the following pages were written so much they creaked when turned. Only in the margins could be found tiny writings, unreadable scribbles only she could interpret. They reflected her perfectly, the mirror of her soul. She often found herself opening that page, perhaps attracted by the raw emotions, poured on a poor sheet of paper, a means to lift the hefty weight off the trembly shoulders of a vulnerable sixteen–year–old.
“I always seem cheerful, I know that, and sometimes I'm terrified of having eyes on me”
“Being alone, it doesn't change what I feel, and I turn off everyone's light. Sometimes I look at my reflection, and I don't even recognise myself.”
“Please, forgive me if I can't help but feel inadequate when I'm talking about me”
Ironically, reading the outcome of her dark, lightless moments gave her an unusual sense of comfort, as if recalling those episodes were the evidence of a dim light in the pitch black tunnel that was her life.
However, in those soulless tunnels, while stumbling and falling, tired and spiritless, at some point a blinding light is all our eyes can see; With its beam, warmth returns, and a wave of fresh hope and optimism comes over us, gifting us the necessary energies to get up and regain control of our life.
This light came to her in the form of Perseus Jackson, son of Poseidon, saviour of Olympus.
She couldn't grasp what made him so… so enamoured with her. Annabeth was right beside him, with her astonishing intellect and quick wit. Why her, if he could have Annabeth? She always got plenty of answers from the sea–swept haired boy, but none satisfied her, none were valid in her opinion.
But the one he always answered with, was that she reminded him of the sea. He said she was his morning sea breeze that swept his already–messy jet black locks. Said she was the fresh waves tickling his feet, ever calm and rhythmic. Said that when she allowed herself, she could also be a stormy sea, threatening the sailors with just one thunder.
Despite all those metaphors didn't make sense in her mind reigned by logic and facts, she did fall for them. Hard. Unapologetically so. She felt in one of those ‘he fell first but she fell harder’ trope books she oh so loved to read in secret.
Finally someone saw her. Finally someone heard her. Finally someone’s first choice. She could get used to the feeling.
Despite not being half bad in combat, specifically sword fighting, she utterly despised the times Annabeth would drag her ass out of her cabin. Far from her warm blankets and her small lamp, and far from her copy of ‘The Hound of the Baskervilles’— to train. Fighting was bad, and she wasn't bad at it. Annabeth had only interrupted her peaceful reading in the middle of a breathtaking discovery; Who was the man hidden in the moor, under a Neolithic dwelling? The answer apparently had to wait, because Annabeth decided it came after training.
Her sister was blathering about some key point to disarm the opponent, going on and on for several minutes about something she had stopped listening to two minutes into the yawnsome speech. Her attention was however caught by Percy's back, droplets of water running down his spine from his hair, a clear evidence of his daily swim break. For a good few seconds, she hadn't even cared to blink, too focused on the godly–looking boy walking out the sea.
The lovestruck glint in her eyes wasn't missed by the watchful gaze of her older sister. No, not at all. The blonde girl had even decided not to be subtle in her detection. “You fancy Seaweed Brain?”, she asked with her chin held high, eyebrows and lips pulled in a teasing expression.
The insinuation left her feeling hot, hotter than it was meant to be under the sun. While her older sister— by only a year, she likes to insist!— was all knowing smiles and wiggling eyebrows. A wet hand on her shoulder interrupted the staring contest between the two Athena’s girls, taking her already stressed heart by surprise.
In her head, a string of imprecations was resounding in a loop, agonizing the moment she'd come face to face with the reason her mind was in a messy turmoil; the greatest fear for a child of the Goddess of wisdom and logic— second only to spiders. Those hairy–legged bitches…
“Hey there, Seastorm”, he smiled down at her, flashing her a carefree smile, that lasted a bit too long for it to be just friendly. He then turned to her sister, acknowledging her with a brief nod and a simple, “hey Annie”, to which the blonde, curly haired girl answered with an amused nod of hers.
He didn't miss a beat— something her heart was not able to do with him so close to her— and grabbed her hand, tugging her lightly with him towards the beach. “Mind if I steal your pupil, Wise Girl?”
Annabeth regarded him with an amused done expression, clearly full of his incessant dance around her, and her stubbornness to deny the obvious. “By all means, Kelp Face. She's all yours today. You know what? I don't want her returned to me if not your girlfriend”, she smirked deviously.
… What was happening?! The words said were running around like crazy in her mind, a pinball where words were the tiny balls crashing around with no order or specific organization.
In that flabbergasted state, she was tugged away from the Arena, and dragged to the sandy seashore of Camp Half-blood. “What—”, she tried to ask, but one single killer smile over his shoulder from Percy was enough to send her heart into a frenzy and shut her up for good.
Her heartbeat was as loud as the crashing waves, if not louder. Irregular thumps, loud and almost suffocating echoed in her ears, blood rushing to paint the tips a vermilion. Meanwhile, her eyes searched for his sea–green ones, who were shining with mirth and anticipation.
“Annie kinda spoilered it all…”, he said scratching the back of his neck, looking like the epitome of sheepishness itself, the words coming out like whispered confessions over the roaring of her heart's pounding and waves crashing.
She raised an eyebrow, her breath short and heavy from the leftover surprise of it all. She leaned slightly in, with a hand dramatically clutching her chest to calm her raging pulse and lips hung wide, in an attempt to catch her breath. “Eh?”, she muttered out of breath and utterly confused.
At her silly state, he let out a loud chuckle and sat down criss–crossed on the white sand, tugging her down with him, patting the seat in front of him.
“Aren't you supposed to be smart and quick?”, he teased light-heartedly.
She rolled her eyes, with a smile playing on her lips, shaking slightly her head at his poor excuse of a joke.
He reciprocated with a grin of his own, almost hesitant, reaching out to hold her hands in his. His confidence returned only a few seconds later, and he acquired the courage to squeeze her fingers tenderly, not a single sound escaping him.
Though, as it took everyone by surprise— Him, her and Poseidon, ‘cause he was definitely staring down at his sole son—, he suddenly got straight to the point, only after a few good minutes of complete silence over them, the only sounds filling the void were distant chatters and laughter.
“Be my girlfriend”
A stunned, breathless gasp escaping her caught him off guard, throwing him off completely. As realisation hit her hard on her face, she slapped her hand over her mouth, mortified for her insensitive answer.
“I'm so sorry, Perce— I just—”, she spluttered out, red in the face, hand still clasping over her lips.
He only let out a chuckle at her incoherent state, an ever–growing affectionate smile replaced his earlier confident grin. His eyes no longer shone reflecting the Sun’s light, but rather from love and tenderness for the red–faced girl in an embarrassed mess standing in front of him in the soft, warm sand.
He only widened his smile when she got even redder, the hue now extending to her neck. He teasingly fanned her with his hands, getting slapped away in response from her.
“Oh, shut it…”, she mumbled behind her hand, shying away from his adoration gaze. “It just startled me…”
“Perhaps I should have learned sign language… I would have surely got a clue on your confusional signals”
“What are you blabbering about?… It was a clear yes”, she answered, looking up at him through her eyelashes, suddenly feeling sheepish from her bold statement.
A mix of emotions passed over his face, one by one, but the one he settled on was one of pure happiness. So pure that he didn't think twice to pick her up and spin around, with her laughing joyfully while holding his shoulders.
Once he placed her back down, he hugged her tightly, and rested his head on hers. While she, tearing up and moved by the situation, hid her face in the crook of his neck, shaking slightly from the quiet sobs leaving her lips.
He chuckled softly and broke the hug to cup her cheeks, smiling reassuringly at her while wiping her tears with his thumbs. “I know I'm pretty eventful, but I never expected this kind of reaction…”, he joked to try to make her smile.
“I just— It's stupid, really…”, she tried to say in vain, still shaken, seeing that Percy immediately shook his head firmly.
“Nothing’s stupid. Especially not you”, he wiggled his eyebrows with an idiotic grin, successfully making her crack a hint of a smile. Puffing out his chest proudly, he added,“you can tell me anything. I'm your boyfriend now”
After a deep breath, or perhaps two or three, she met his gaze, locking it. “Sometimes… Sometimes I feel like I'm not that important to everyone. There's always someone who comes before me. Always. And— And now you come saying all that stuff… The sea–themed similes, the girlfriend thing…”
Another big, deep breath. “It's nice”, she stated finally, lifting off a weight she had been carrying for too long. A trembly, but nonetheless genuine, smile made its way on her lips, eyes wet and a bit swollen from crying.
“Yeah, well… It's called love, Seastorm. You better get used to it, cause you're ‘boutta get loads of it from now on”
Their eyes stayed locked in place, together. Thousand of words being replaced by a single glance. Then, finally, another tight hug sealed all their confessions together; That's what love is.
Second choice? Not anymore. At least, not to the person that mattered the most.
“Percy Jackson”
Those were the words written on the last page of her journal.
Not in a small handwriting, not in the margins; Big and right in the middle, highlighted, a blue glittery heart around it.
BONUS PART
They approached Annabeth, walking hand in hand, swinging them and chucking under their breaths. With a wave of his free hand, Percy grabbed the blonde’s attention, and watching her face changing from confusion, to realisation and to joy was priceless. What was even better, was the squeal that unexpectedly left her.
She and Percy shared a look of bewilderment, and burst out laughing loudly. “Think I can return her to you, now”, grinned Percy.
about ˚｡ being PERCY JACKSON's sweet sweet friend means knowing everything about him—but who he likes. surely the campers are just exaggerating how he treats you...! but are they really?
⌗ author's notes : please don't mind errors especially in the last part, i was editing this at 3 am yesterday. yes i'm gonna post more fics soon especially summer fics !!! REQUESTS R APPRECIATED.
❛❛ percyyyy ! ❜❜ a group of tween campers called squealing from the other side of the amphitheater, drawing a certain dark-haired demigod's attention from sparring with an Ares kid.
" your girlfriend [name]'s calling you !!!! "
percy glances up at the sound of your name, and it costs him.
riptide slips from his hand with a sharp clang against the stone, and the Ares camper in front of him lets out a loud laugh.
"wow, jackson. took one word to drop your sword."
"shut up," percy shoots back, already smirking as he steps back. "you wish it was that easy."
The match ends a second later, with percy forfeiting the match. he reaches out, daps the guy up.
"good fight. i was beating your ass out there."
"yeah, until she showed up," the guy says, nodding toward you.
percy doesn’t even argue. i mean he's not lying, though?
he just shakes his head, picks up Riptide, caps him and chuck him straight into his pocket, and heads straight for you.
like a good [boy]friend he is!
"you’re smiling," you point out the second he gets close.
"I just won," he says.
"you dropped your sword."
"there's this thing called 'strategy' if you know what that is."
"annabeth sent me," you say. "swimming lessons tomorrow with new campers?"
percy groans, dragging a hand through his hair. "I knew I was forgetting something."
"and cabin checks tonight."
he stops walking.
"…you’re actually enjoying this."
"i don't know what you're talking about." though your smile gave it away.
"that’s messed up."
you just smile and start walking again, and he falls into step beside you.
the noise of the amphitheater fades behind you, replaced by the steady hush of the shore. the path opens to the Long Island Sound, the water catching the late sunlight, everything dipped in that soft, golden glow that makes the camp feel quieter and calmer than it ever really is.
you head for the docks. sit at the edge, your feet dangling at the water.
percy doesn’t sit. no.
he wades in, shoes forgotten, water curling around his lower body, and somehow it feels rejuvenating for him. he leans forward, bracing his arms on the dock on either side of you, caging you. his sea-green eyes look into yours intensely. it's like he's looking at you like you're his god-given solace.
your breath catch a little.
"you're blocking my view," you say.
"my view's better," he replies easily. "i'm looking at you."
"…you're so annoying."
"yeah, but you're still here."
the water laps quietly against the wood beneath you. somewhere in the distance, someone shouts, someone laughs—but it feels far away. like right now, both of you are in your own world.
a second passes by.
"they're not gonna drop it, you know," Percy says after a while.
"drop what?"
he tilts his head, amused. "the whole 'your girlfriend' thing."
you shrug. "they'll get bored eventually."
"mm. i doubt it."
"why? you worried about your reputation?"
he huffs out a soft laugh. "please. I don't have one of those."
"true."
He watches you for a second.
"...you didn’t say anything," he adds.
"about?"
he lifts a brow. "you know. that."
"Oh." you glance out at the water. "didn’t feel like it mattered."
Percy studies your face, he’s trying to read something there.
“And if it did?” he asks.
You look back at him. “Would it?”
He shifts closer, water moving with him, quiet and obedient. now he's in between your legs, his arms still caging both your side.
“Depends,” he says.
“On what?”
His mouth curves, just slightly. “On whether you’d say yes.”
Your heart does something stupid.
“…to what?”
He lets out a breath, something softer slipping through the teasing.
“To them being right.”
It’s quieter now.
The space between you feels smaller.
Warmer.
You don’t look away.
“I would,” you say.
And for once—
Percy Jackson doesn’t have something ready to say back. No cocky comment. No teasing. Nada. Zip. None.
“…yeah?” he asks, softer.
You nod.
“Yeah.”
He exhales a short laugh, something almost disbelieving under it, then shakes his head a little.
“Okay,” he murmurs.
And then—
“I like you.”
It comes out easier than he expects.
You don’t even hesitate.
“I know.”
That gets him.
His head tilts, eyes narrowing just slightly, a smile creeping in. “Oh, you know?”
You lean forward a little, matching him. “You’re not subtle.”
“That’s offensive,” he says lightly. “I’m extremely subtle.”
“You dropped your sword.”
“Okay, that one time—”
You don’t let him finish.
You kiss him.
And he freezes—before he’s kissing you back, one hand coming up instinctively to steady against your arm, grounding himself, because gods forbid him being too greedy when it comes to you. you're his salvation. because in a world where everything's constantly getting taken away from him, he knows better than to reach for something he might lose.
It’s warm. Percy can taste the cherry lipbalm he always sees you put on.
A little uneven. A little breathless. Too greedy.
Until—
hands grab your ankles.
“WAIT—”
You’re yanked forward, Percy’s eyes going wide right before both of you go crashing into the water.
The cold hits all at once, laughter exploding above you, voices echoing—
the whole. freaking. camp.
You surface, soaked, pushing your hair out of your face, staring at the shoreline where half the camp is losing their minds.
“You’re all insane!”
Percy comes up beside you, laughing under his breath. “Yeah, that tracks.”
Someone yells, “DO IT AGAIN—”
Percy rolls his eyes, but there’s a grin tugging at his mouth. “They’re never letting this go.”
You huff, trying not to smile. “Your fault.”
“My fault?” he echoes. “You kissed me.”
“You literally—”
The water shifts.
You feel it before you see it— cool, smooth, rising around you.
Percy glances at you, something playful sparking in his eyes.
“Hold on,” he says.
The water lifts, curves, closes—forming a clear, shimmering bubble around the two of you beneath the surface. The noise above dulls instantly, reduced to distant muffled chaos.
It’s quiet.
Soft light filters through the water, catching in his hair, in his eyes, in the space between you.
You stare at him.
“…you’re so extra.”
He grins. “You’re welcome.”
Your hand finds his without thinking.
He notices.
His thumb brushes lightly over your knuckles, slower this time.
Less teasing.
"…now," he says, voice lower, softer, like he’s settling into something he doesn’t have to joke away—
─ SOME ARE general, some are dating ✉️ : might be ooc idk i was lowkey projecting
percy is almost always out in the sun— like, so much so that you begin to wonder how he hasnt gotten sunscreen yet. he refuses sunscreen a lot of the time
super super super awkward boy because of his lonely childhood
this mans love language is quality time & acts of service
he has the most infectious laugh and grin ever. you will never not be smiling around him
suupa respectful and sweet with great manners; sally raised this boy right! he will randomly compliment you, or tell you that something reminded him of you, etc etc
sometimes, though, his temper does get the best of him. at the end of the day, hes simply a teenager whos been put through much more than he deserved. you two always manage to talk it out since neither of you really wants the other one to be upset
percy likes to doodle; rachel got him into it. she told him it was a nice way to relieve stress. he draws when hes bored and has nothing to do. he shows all of his doodles to you, even if they totally suck
basketball dude. he makes you watch the games with him
he teaches you cool skateboard tricks in your free time
percy developed an intense fascination with prehistoric aquatic creatures at some point. he likes to share fun facts he learned about them with you. he can super nerdy at times, but you love it
on the topic of being nerdy, percy loves ranting about his interests with you. especially if theyre shared interests. even if he doesnt know the book or show or movie or whatever topic youre talking about, he will still gladly listen to you speak for hours with zero interruption. he just loves seeing you so excited
this man drinks loads of caffeine because hes almost always exhausted
he gets constant headaches
percy has the most gorgeous sea green eyes and the longest, most luscious lashes in the entire world. you cant help but get lost in them
always smells like the beach. coconut and sea salt and sandalwood and all that good stuff.
everything in his cabin has sand on it
mulans biggest fan he loves that movie to death. also unironically likes sharknado
his favorite type of kiss is a cheek kiss, especially after he accomplishes something (even if its the simplest task). basically his favorite reward.
percy has the best music taste ever. he is always willing to give you song / band recommendations or share his headphones with you. it makes him so happy whenever somebody likes his music
lots and lots of freckles. you try to count them, but always end up losing track of what number you were on
♡. 𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐲𝐬 : Percy is convinced he fell in love with you a second time at his mother's wedding & it rewires his brain.
Percy thinks—no, knows—this is one of those moments that rewires his brain chemistry forever, not in a neat way, not like something he’ll look back on calmly later, but in a way where his head feels too full all at once and his body doesn’t know what to do with the excess.
He’s standing at the bottom of the stairs and his foot keeps tapping against the floor even though he told himself to stop doing that, even though Annabeth shot him a look a minute ago. His suit jacket is pulling weird at the shoulders. The tie is too tight. He loosens it, then tightens it again because loose feels worse somehow. His hands don’t settle and they just keep opening and closing.
The apartment is warm, maybe too warm??? Someone brushed past him earlier and apologized and he nodded like a normal person, but it barely registered. Everything felt delayed, as if he’s underwater without actually being underwater, maybe the air has the wrong density.
The stairs are empty. They won’t be empty for long.
He knows that. He’s known it for ten minutes. Maybe longer. Time’s doing something strange.
His mom is getting married.
That fact keeps floating back up, disjointed, like a notification he keeps swiping away without reading properly. Sally Jackson— his mom, the constant and the anchor in his life— is standing in the next room in white, about to walk into a new part of her life. Percy’s chest tightens every time he remembers it, not in a bad way, he's overwhelmed by happiness.
People move around him. Paul says something about the rings. Someone asks Percy if he’s ready and he nods automatically, because yes, he is, he has been for years, for all of this— his mom happy, his mom safe, his mom choosing something good.
Oh, but Percy's mind is also floating another way— what could he possibly do when he sees you in that dress?
Just when his mind is wondering you descend the stairs. The light catches on the curve of your shoulder, the way the dress fits perfectly and accentuates your beautiful body. You hold the railing with one hand, bouquet in the other, and you laugh at something someone whispers behind you.
That’s when it happens.
One second he’s smiling, the next his mouth is trembling, and then— gods— then the tears are just there, spilling.
“Oh—no, no, no,” he mutters, half-laughing, half-breaking, dragging the heel of his hand under one eye, then the other, failing miserably.
Percy never got that moment, did he?
The prom staircase with the dress reveal and the chance to stand there and think: ‘that’s her, she chose me while the rest of the world watched.’
Percy is already there when you reach the last step. He stops short close to the railing, eyes wide and glossy, mouth opening and then closing again. His tie is crooked and one sleeve is wrinkled from where he’s been fidgeting with it all afternoon.
You notice immediately.
His shoulders are tight, his breath uneven, and when he blinks, a tear slips out anyway. He laughs under his breath like he’s embarrassed, and you lower your bouquet to give attention to your boyfriend.
“Percy?” you ask, worry threading into your voice as you step closer. “Hey love— what’s wrong?”
Your hand comes up to his face before he can answer, thumbs brushing under his eyes, catching the tears he didn’t even realize were falling yet. He leans into the touch instinctively, he’s been practically knocked off balance and you’re both the cause and the thing that sustains him.
“I’m fine,” he says, sniffing hard and ruining the lie. He drags his wrist across his nose, laughs again, softer this time, and looks at you like he’s trying to memorize every inch. “I swear. I just— gods.”
He swallows, voice thick. “You’re so pretty.”
Another sniff. His hands settle at your waist, not tight but steady, grounding himself there. He looks a little wrecked, eyes red, lashes wet, with a smile trembling and sincere.
“I didn’t think it would hit me like this,” he admits quietly.
“You came down the stairs and I just—froze. I never got to have that moment with you. Prom, or anything like that. Seeing you all dressed up and walking toward me.” His thumb starts tracing small, absent circles against your side. “And now here you are, and I can’t stop thinking about how lucky I am.”
Someone clears their throat nearby. A camera flashes but Percy barely gives his attention to it. He presses his forehead to yours for a second, breathing you in, pulling himself together a little.
“Sorry,” he murmurs, still smiling, still sniffing. “I’m just really in love with you.”
The room is dark except for the thin stripe of city light slipping through the curtains, cutting across the bed and the floor.
The wedding ended two hours ago and there you are, warm beside him, one leg tangled with his, your back pressed lightly to his chest. Percy stays still for a long moment, listening at your breathing slow and even, the kind that tells him you’re really asleep this time.
He shifts just enough to free one arm, careful not to wake you. His hand stays on your waist, fingers splayed for the reminder that you’re there. He reaches for his phone with the other hand, and winces when the screen lights up too bright, immediately dimming it down.
Rings.
He types it in and then deletes it. Types again. Engagement rings. He exhales quietly through his nose, lips pressing together as the page loads. His thumb hovers, hesitant, before he starts scrolling.
He doesn’t know what he’s looking for at first.
Too flashy feels wrong. Too simple feels like it’s missing something. He keeps glancing at your hand where it rests against the pillow, memorizing the shape of your fingers, the way they curl when you sleep. He reaches out, gently, lifting your hand just enough to slide his own under it, lining his fingers up with yours, testing how it would look someday.
“Yeah,” he whispers to himself, barely sound at all. “Okay.”
He scrolls slower now. Stops on one. Zooms in. Back out.
He lets out another sniff, quiet and ridiculous, because somehow he’s emotional again. He wipes his nose on the edge of the sheet and shakes his head, a small smile tugging at his mouth.
He taps a few tabs open, compares bands, stones, settings. Reads reviews.
He imagines you wearing it while brushing your teeth, while cooking dinner, while absentmindedly twisting it around your finger when you’re nervous. He imagines the weight of it there and how permanent that would make everything in the best way.
He wants to spend his life with you forever.
You shift in your sleep, brow creasing slightly, and he freezes instantly. His phone locks instantly and his hand tightens at your waist, pulling you a fraction closer until you settle again, breath evening out. He lets out the breath he was holding, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your shoulder.
“Sorry,” he murmurs, even if you can't hear him.
When he unlocks his phone again, he saves a few.
“Just bookmarks. It's nothing official.” He’s trying to think, trying not to rush it— he just wants to know what forever might look like in metal and stone. His thumb pauses over one last ring, simple, sturdy and beautiful.
He glances at you one more time, at the way your hair spills over the pillow, at how safe you look there with him.
“Soon,” he ends up with, and finally sets the phone down.
He pulls you closer, arm snug around your waist, nose tucked into your hair. His breathing slows to match yours, the glow of the screen fading from his eyes but not from his chest.
apocolypse - prologue
undergroundboxer!kuna x reader [soulmate au]
∞︎︎
you had come to the conclusion that your soulmate was either a felon or a cold-blooded murderer.
you were leaning more towards the latter.
there were only so many times you could wake up with sore ribs and aching knuckles before starting to consider homicide as a genuine career path for your soulmate.
you were sixteen years old when you began feeling what he felt and he rarely felt happiness.
at sixteen, you remembered clinging onto hope, faith that things would change for the better.
at nineteen, you tried denial. optimism even. maybe he just had niche hobbies?
now, at twenty-two, exhausted and running on three hours of sleep and an unhealthy dependence on caffeine, you had finally settled on acceptance.
your soulmate was batshit crazy, absolutely insane.
the realization came to you somewhere between waking up at three in the morning because someone was being beaten up and nearly throwing up on the marble floors of your bathroom after feeling a wave of adrenaline so violent, it couldn’t possibly belong to a sane person.
you blamed him for the dark circles under your eyes, as well as the chronic irritability, insomnia and the emotional damage too.
“hey sunshine!”
you glanced up from your kitchen island to see shoko freely walking into your apartment as if it was her own. which, considering the amount of time she spent there, perhaps it was.
“you look awful.” utahime voiced from beside her as she walked towards your fridge, pulling out a bottle of coconut water, “devils dick wouldn't let you sleep again?”
you stared blankly out at the city skyline stretching beyond the floor to ceiling windows, morning fog curled between skyscrapers while the city below came to life beneath streaks of pale sunlight, almost pink.
“yes,” you replied bluntly, taking a sip of the black coffee in hand, “unless i’m the one suddenly developing anger issues and an overwhelming desire to commit aggravated assault.”
shoko snorted into her matcha at your words, though a thin layer of concern blanketed her eyes as she watched you.
you felt it before you saw him, the soft fur brushing against your ankles as you looked down at the familiar tuft of brown, “hi, ani.”
the cat purred against you lowly, circling your feet once before making his way towards the porcelain bowl filled with his breakfast.
it was a bit sad how your cat was your one companion in the vast penthouse you resided in. technically, the house belonged to your parents who were overseas so often, it was entirely in your possession alongside an absurd monthly allowance and very little supervision.
most people your age would’ve killed for this kind of freedom.
a luxury apartment in the middle of the city, prestigious university and a future already carved out neatly in front of you.
from an outside perspective, your life was perfect.
except for the stain beneath the surface of everything. him.
a constant you despised, yet he was all too impossible to ignore.
most soulmates exchanged softness through their bond. love, warmth and peace.
you exchanged pain, phantom bruises and what you were fairly certain was unresolved psychological trauma.
“how bad was it?” shoko questioned as she sat on the stool by the island.
you considered the question for a moment.
truly, last night wasn’t his worst night but it wasn’t his best either.
“my left thigh kinda hurts.”
“ooh,” she winced, “that’s new.”
“yup. he’s branching out,” you brought your cup up to your lips, “lucky me.”
the soulmate bond manifested differently for everyone, but emotional and physical sensations were universal. tiny things passed between soulmates all the time, including stress, exhaustion, happiness and lust.
utahime once told you soulmates were a blessing.
you’d nearly laughed in her face. did she know what a blessing was?
“maybe he’s in jail.’ shoko offered lazily as utahime immediately shot her a look.
you looked up at the girl. jail?
you almost hoped he was, that way the chances of meeting the son of a bitch were practically down to zero. you didn't want anything to do with the sadistic motherfucker.
your friends found your situation significantly sadder than you did, mostly because all of them had experienced their bond the way it was intended.
warm, soft and disgustingly tender.
utahime met sora during your graduation trip to greece. it was in the middle of a beach club and you distinctly recalled the way utahime went all quiet, the way they couldn’t look away from each other despite utahime always swearing that fate had handcrafted him specifically to irritate her.
you don’t remember how they progressed, only that they did. more than you could even imagine.
shoko met percy during your welcome week in freshman year, all anxious minds and bright eyes. you remembered the way shoko used to continuously rub the bridge of her nose because she claimed her soulmate wore the heaviest glasses on earth. then there he was. tousled hair, thick-rimmed glasses and all.
they’ve been inseparable ever since.
sometimes, you felt like the worst person alive because you resented them, just a little bit.
not because they were happy, but because they got softness where you got violence.
if you closed your eyes, just for a moment, you could recall exactly when you'd first felt him.
while walking through the school hall in first year, the most overwhelming sense of fear overcame you. real and true terror, practically paralyzing you in place. dread that was raw and sharp, crashing into your ribs hard enough to steal the air right from your lungs.
then came the pain, something you’d grow all too familiar with.
pain that only got worse with age.
you found yourself continuously trying to make sense of the colossal question mark that was your soulmate. who was he? what was he so afraid of? why was he in constant pain?
still, you learned the rhythm of him.
it was embarrassing, honestly. you knew things about your soulmate that no stranger should know.
you knew he preferred sleeping on his back because his shoulders were always too bruised to lie on comfortably. you knew he clenched his jaw till his molars hurt when he was furious. you knew he rarely slept through the night and how he carried exhaustion like it was stitched into his bones.
and worst of all, you knew exactly what his anger felt like and it was ugly. not explosive or wild in a dramatic sense but controlled.
it sat low in your stomach like a rock, dangerous and waiting.
sometimes, in the middle of lectures, your chest would suddenly tighten for absolutely no reason and you’d know instantly.
those were the worst days and they happened more often than you’d like.
your body would grow tense hours before it even happened, as if it already knew what was coming. your pulse would spike and adrenaline would drip into your bloodstream until your own fingers twitch with restlessness.
then came the impact. a burst of pain and the metallic taste of blood in your mouth that you could never see.
panic used to fill you at the sensation and now, you’d barely flinch.
“again?” utahime would whisper from beside you during your labs.
you’d simply nod.
apparently, your soulmate enjoyed fist fighting at eight in the fucking monring. truthfully, you didn’t know what scared you more. the violence itself or how used to it you’ve become.
because despite everything, the resentment sitting bitter on your tongue every time he dragged you into another sleepless night, you still found yourself searching for him constantly.
in crowds, trains and crossing busy streets. but you never felt his presence around, so you knew they were futile attempts.
you hated that too. the way your body longed for someone your mind already decided was a monster. the devil reincarnated.
sometimes, late at night, when the city outside your windows finally quieted down and the skyline blurred into soft hues of orange and pink, you’d feel him lying awake.
always restless and consistently pained.
there was something deeply unsettling about sharing insomnia with a stranger.
you’d feel him shifting endlessly beneath bedsheets, the tension in his shoulders and agitation under his skin. occasionally, the dull ache of old bruises blooming across muscle.
those nights left you exhausted and you always tried to ignore it at first, but one night, half-asleep and irritated beyond relief, you wrapped your arms around yourself beneath your comforter with a frustrated little sigh. a weak attempt to offer him a semblance of comfort.
go the fuck to sleep.
the effect was so immediate, it had your heart growing erratic.
you felt him still, completely and truly. a calm settled over your chest like a balm on wound.
after that, it became routine.
you’d discovered a hack of some sort.
to get through to him, you have to act as if you are him.
you’d taken up yoga with hime because it seemed to ease his sore muscles.
some nights, you’d feel him spiraling so violently with anger so strong, it crawled beneath your own skin. on those nights, you’d sit on your balcony overlooking the starry night enveloping the skyline in a deep blue. a case of markers in hand along with an adults coloring book. one of those complex ones with multiple minuscule shapes.
and color, you did. because it seemed to soothe him.
you knew it because you could feel it happen in real time.
the slow loosening of tension beneath skin and the steadying of his heartbeat. then the exhaustion would finally pull him under.
it felt strangely intimate.
though it started selfishly because you wanted the rest, you soon began doing it for him.
sometimes, you wondered if he knew it was you.
if he realized that the sudden calmness swallowing him whole at three in the morning belonged to somebody else.
if he knew his soulmate sat forty floors above the city in pretty pink pyjamas and color stained hands trying to soothe a rage she didn’t understand.
the thought made your chest ache because you knew he knew.
despite how badly fate had screwed you over, he was still yours.
and somehow, horrifyingly, you were still his.
despite it all, he still felt so unbearably human.
most nights were spent peacefully from that day on, for the most part.
you could tolerate him now but there were still quieter nights where he couldn’t sleep.
the bond grew restless during those hours, tension humming beneath your skin like static. you’d feel him, his exhaustion weighing heavy in your own bones despite the fact that you’d done absolutely nothing all day besides write up your report.
“he’s awake…” you mumbled one night, shoko glancing up from where she sat on the couch in your room, typing up her essay on her laptop despite the deadline being three hours ago.
“again?” shoko huffed, “does this guy not sleep?”
you simply hummed once because sometimes he does. when you help him sleep.
it was all too intimate in the worst way possible.
at times, you felt like he lived beneath your skin more than inside his own body.
when you wrapped your arms around yourself, mumbling a go to sleep, somewhere across the city, your soulmate listened.
one emotion you both felt was the soul-tying loneliness.
you understood loneliness, grown up and made friends with it.
it seems he did as well. he dealt with his in a different way than you did yours, though.
it happened late one night when you were halfway through your night routine.
at first, it was subtle, a warmth against your lips.
your movements slowed instantly, fingers hovering near your face as confusion knitted your brows together. what the fuck?
then came another sensation, this time featherlight touches across your jaw.
your stomach dropped because what followed was the most excruciating pain you’d ever felt, exploding through your body so suddenly, your serum bottle slipped from your hands and shattered across the bathroom floor.
and you collapsed with it.
a gasp tore from your throat as agony spread violently beneath your skin, hot enough to make your vision blur. it felt all wrong, burning and suffocating.
you knew exactly what was happening.
he was touching someone else.
you remembered shoko mentioning it once after utahime drunkenly asked too many questions about soulmate bonds during freshman year.
physical intimacy with someone who wasn't your soulmate caused backlash through the bond.
“apparently, it feels awful,” shoko stated, “super painful.”
awful? that fucking liar.
this wasn’t just awful. you felt like you were burning.
you curled against the cold marble tiles, arms wrapped tightly around your stomach as another wave of pain hit hard enough to drag a broken sound from your throat. it felt like being split apart from the inside out as tears blurred your vision.
“stop…” you whispered shakily, though you didn’t know who you were talking to anymore.
him? fate?
the pain built as you continued to feel touches that weren’t yours, warm skin that wasn’t yours.
someone else’s hands against him.
it made you sick.
humiliation mixed violently with heartbreak until you could barely breath through it, till you sobbed against yours hands.
messy and continuous tears soaked your sleeves as you sat on the bathroom floor, fury and devastation clawing through you so violently, you didn’t knwo what to do.
“i hate you!” you choked out as your lungs burned.
you felt the sudden stillness instantly, followed by a hollow feeling in your gut.
it hit your ribs so unexpectedly, your chest caught.
guilt. real guilt.
your expression twisted immediately. that sick son of a bitch.
that only angered you more.
you dug your nails into your palms hard enough to break skin and pain shot through you then, wanting him to feel it, to hurt the way he always made you hurt.
you slammed your first against the tile once, twice then again as your knuckles split open eventually but you barely noticed.
then suddenly…warmth.
you went still, breathing shaking unevenly as the sensation wrapped around you in an unfamiliar fashion.
it was a pair of arms, strong as they held you.
your breathing stuttered as you processed what was happening.
was he…hugging himself? like how you would?
he was holding himself because he didn’t know how else to reach you, to console you.
your anger cracked slightly at the edges because for the first time in years, he felt close. not in his usual worrying or irritating way.
and no matter how much you hated yourself for it, you leaned into it.
because after all, you were just as lonely as he seemed to be.
after that day, even following his piteous attempt at comfort, you were vengeful.
gone were the nights you’d hold yourself, him, to sleep. gone were the late night drawings or the yoga classes, the massages for his sore muscles and the relaxing teas.
gone was your gentleness along with any semblance of hope you had clung onto like snow on mountains.
you fucking hated fate.
∞
“maybe he’s dead.” shoko offered as you glanced up at her from the blaring screen of your laptop, illuminating your face in the darkness.
utahime shot her a look as you sighed gently.
you weren’t sure if her words were meant to console you but you weren’t sure they did.
you hated him, yes, but did you want him dead?
the thought sent a pang up your chest. no, you didn’t.
because you hadn’t even met him yet.
where all your friends had already fulfilled their bonds, you were left pondering the possibility of fate playing a sick trick on you,
“i mean, with all the fights he gets into, i wouldn’t be surprised.” shoko continued, her words trailing off as she caught utahime’s glare.
you shook your head once, ignoring the tightness beneath your ribs, “if he was dead, who the fuck am i feeling every day?”
shoko hummed once, as if pondering the thought, “maybe he’s in hell!”
now, that seemed probable.
rain tapped gently against the windows while blond played softly in the background as you returned your attention back to the half-finished page in front of you.
it was oddly peaceful in a way you weren’t used to. which meant he was either asleep or unconscious.
honestly, both possibilities reassured you equally so.
“you need to leave your castle, princess.” utahime smiled mockingly from her place on your carpeted floor as you rolled your eyes gently, fingers pausing atop your keyboard.
“why?” you muttered, thumb absentmindedly rubbing soft circles against your wrist.
“um, because of human interaction?” shoko dropped onto your bed, arms and legs starfished across the plush white sheets atop your king sized bed.
you rolled your eyes once more, “and you guys are…?”
both girls grumbled at your response making you smile softly, looking back down at your laptop as ani purred from his place curled at your feet.
you did leave your home! how else would you shop? or attend your lectures? or get your sixth coffee of the day?
“there’s a party downtown tonight.” shoko grinned at you genty, practically soft-launching the idea as you scoffed once.
“ew.”
“don’t say ew with that stupid face like you’re old!”
“m’not old,” you shrugged, “i’d just rather do anything else.”
shoko huffed, sitting up on your bed before walking towards your place on the couch, "you always do anything else! you’ve been so down recently, just let us help!”
you almost wanted to laugh. a party wouldn’t help by any means.
instead, you swallowed quietly, looking back down at your laptop.
he had been strangely distant lately, ever the rage-filled psychopath, but quieter somehow. you didn’t know if you liked it or not.
“c’mon,” utahime pleaded, “just one night!”
before you could answer, you felt it again.
a rush of adrenaline flooding your veins so suddenly, your jaw clenched.
the room went quiet as utahime’s expression shifted, “devils dick?”
you sighed inwardly, eyes fluttering shut for a moment.
it was a familiar feeling, hot and electric and so fucking alive beneath your skin. you didn’t want to wait for the pain to follow.
“okay.”
the girls exchanged a look.
“okay?!” shoko exclaimed with a grin as you sighed gently.
“that’s what i said.”
her squeals were met with silence as you tried to calm your-his-breathing.
there was this weird feeling in your gut, deep and carved in stone, like tonight was significant.
it felt almost damning.
∞
an - just a little glimpse into this worlddd! no kuna in this yet so :( but u guys will meet him ch1 !! also this is prob gonna be a shorter seriessss like 6-8 parts!
anyways lmk what u guys thinkkkk and if u want more of this au!
also wanna say i read a fic like 7ish yrs ago on here from @/stuckonspidey, i dont think they're on here anymore but they had a soulmate fic that inspired this that i wrote a while ago sooo credits to themmm i remember loving that fic smmmm! :)
