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@broughttheheebackk
grover underwood appreciation post
my guy put up with percy and annabeth's shit for four years until they realised that they love each other.
plus he did everything for them without giving two shits.
👍🏻👍🏻
😭
my 11 year old sister asks my dad,
'can you please tell me some jokes on communism?'
without missing a fucking beat i respond with,
'the ideology itself is a joke.'
the entire table goes quiet.
my dad snorts out his soda.
one for my side, i guess.
Imagine children of Hephaestus being born with parts of their bodies being made of metal. It varies how weird or horrific the placement of these parts are. Many children with born with metal limbs build better, more stylish ones for themselves
Imagine children of Aphrodite that are born with the power to change their appearance, but they can’t control it. They change when their emotions are high or just randomly throughout the day. Sometimes they’ll have two different faces and not be able to do anything about it
Imagine children of Apollo being literally made of light. There’s always a soft glow coming from their eyes, nose, and mouth. They get hard to look at when they’re mad but they also make good flashlights
Imagine children of Ares who just casually spill blood all the time. Out of their mouths, ears, eyes, and noses. Just randomly, no warning. Sometime random small wounds will open up on their arms, legs, and faces. New campers are very scared of them
Imagine children of Athena who physically shut down from information over load; they can’t move, can’t speak, don’t even breathe so their brains can review all the things they know. When they’re in this state you can literally see words and pictures flash across their eyes. Don’t disturb them in this state, it won’t be good for either of you
Imagine children of Demeter who have flowers and other flora growing out of their bodies. Little roses (thorns and all) growing out of their heads, lilies growing from their shoulders. Sometimes their hair will start turning green
Imagine children of Dionysus with grape juice for blood. When they get older, it ferments and turns to wine. They can will vines to grow out of their bodies, though the grapes on those vines will make anyone else sick
Imagine children of Hermes who talk so fast, their voice can’t catch up. They’ll be talking and suddenly, their voice gives out. But they still keep talking. When they stop, their voice keeps going once it’s able to catch up
Imagine children of Hades with see through skin. All the bones, veins, organs, and everything is visible. Sometimes, depending on a lot of things, their skin is more translucent than normal
Imagine children of Poseidon being born with aquatic features; scales, gills, webbed hands/feet, slimy skin, etc. Some are able to go fine without water, while some need it or they get sick. They won’t die but they will be quite miserable
Imagine children of Zeus who are made of lightning. You can see it under their skin, jumping from one body part to the next. Their eyes have lightning and them always look like colored storm clouds. Touching them is always an endeavor in trying not to get shocked too badly
Imagine really cool side effects to being half all powerful God
imagine children of iris being able to see random colours everywhere.
this is what the beginning of The Lost Hero sounds like
“You ready, Lou?”
“Duh.”
“Cecil? You’ve got full faith in your cabin?”
“Yep.”
“What about you, Will? Were your threats successful?”
“My bribes went wonderfully, thank you.”
“Then I think we’re a go.”
“Gods, this is going to be great.”
———
Knockknockknock.
Nico locks in on his game. He is so, so close to finally making it through this stupid quest, he can feel it, and if he doesn’t beat The Imprisoned before Percy he’s going to set the camp on fire.
Knockknockknock.
“Just — hold on a second!” He spams B, cursing loudly to himself, ignoring the twinge in his lower back from holding this position for so long. “Fuck, fuck, come on.” He clenches his teeth, knuckles white against the Wii remote, until finally — the boss falls. He cheers.
Fuck yes. Take that, Percy.
Tossing the remote on his bed, he jogs over to the door, sliding open the three bolts and unlocking the chains. On his porch is a blur of movement, hair frizzy and pulled-on, shirt rumbled.
“Oh, hey, Annabeth.”
She barely acknowledges him, focusing intently on pacing back and forth on the stone porch at the speed of light. He settles against the door frame, stretching out his spine, watching her mutter to herself.
“Chiron is leaving,” she says.
Nico raises an amused eyebrow. “I am aware.”
“With Mr. D. To some conference.”
“I heard.”
“He’s gone until early tomorrow evening.”
“Uh-huh.”
“He left me in charge.”
“Probably wise.”
“I need an allegiance, Nico.”
“Slow down and tell me what you mean, first.”
She sighs, coming to a stop in front of him. Her fingers still drum across her biceps, and her eyes dart around, evaluating. Her teeth dig into her bottom lip.
“Camp’s a lot of work,” she says finally. “I’ve never been in charge of so many people at once before, and like hell am I gonna let Chiron think I can’t handle it. I have a Plan, and you’re a part of it.”
Nico resists the urge to groan. Chiron leaving is supposed to mean he gets the next day or so off — no classes, no socializing, nothing. Just him in his cabin and the genuinely disgusting amount of junk food he has amassed.
(…And Will. Maybe.)
“It’s nothing crazy,” she promises. “I just need you to lurk.”
“…Lurk?”
“Yeah, you know. Chill in the shadows and scare people into complacency. You don’t even need to do much, just that thing where you stare at people like you know the exact day they’re going to die.”
“I do love lurking,” Nico admits. And to basically have a free pass to scare the shit out of whoever he wants… “I’ll do it.”
She smiles brightly. “Thanks, Nico! I knew I could count on you. I’ll meet up with you right after Chiron heads out, okay? To give you a list of people to keep your eye on.”
“Sure. Bye, Annabeth.”
“See ya!”
He closes the door and pads back to his setup, shaking the remote to get it going again. He can’t quite shake the smirk off his face.
The next twenty four hours are going to rock.
———
“Swiper No Swiping, initiate phase one.”
“Roger that, Sunny Dick.”
“…I’m revoking your code name priveledges.”
“No no no, I’m sorry, I’ll change it.”
———
Before Chiron leaves, he gathers them all in the amphitheatre.
“Children,” he calls, adjusting the bow slung across his back. “I am leaving now for my conference. I will be back before the sun sets tomorrow.” He gestures towards Annabeth, standing stiffly beside him. “Annabeth is in charge. Consider all my authority transferred to her before I return, am I understood?”
“Yes, Chiron,” courses the camp, some with significantly more attitude than others. Across the gathered crowd, Will catches his eye and winks. (Well, tries to. He has yet to catch on to the fact that he cannot, actually, wink, and instead just blinks really intentionally. Kayla and Austin have sworn him to secrecy.) Nico rolls his eyes, ears burning, and looks away.
“Good. Regular rules; no maiming, killing, or injuries above level seven. Any arson will result in a revoking of dessert privileges. Yes, Julia, even if you help in putting out the arson. It is the fire that is the issue, you understand. Excellent.” He claps his hands together. “I am looking forward to one day of peace. Try to avoid ruining it for me too quickly. Goodbye, children.”
With a wave and a fond squeeze of Annabeth’s shoulder, he trots over to Half-Blood Hill, ignoring Mr. D’s loud complaining about how long he took. With a snap of Mr. D’s fingers, they disappear. For a brief, uncanny moment, everything is still.
“Alright,” Annabeth shouts, clapping her hands together. Nico jumps. “Dinner is in an hour. Whoever is the first to fuck something up will be doing dishes. I will be watching. Dismissed.”
Wading through the swathes of ambling teenagers, she walks by where Nico is leaning against a pillar, half-hidden in the shadows.
“Lurk,” she orders, passing him.
Nico shoots her a mocking salute, fading into the shadow behind him. He barely catches her grin before he dissolves into the darkness.
———
“Phase two in effect. Ready to go, Sabrina Spellman?”
“Prepped to go, Teletubbies Sun Baby.”
“I hate both of you.”
———
“Halt!”
Across the common, three suspicious figures freeze, glance behind them, and then resume walking as casually as they can.
“I said halt! Do not move! Cease all function!”
Milling nervously towards each other, Dumb, Dumber, and Dumbest pause, shifting the three massive cardboard boxes they hold each.
“Hi, Annabeth,” Will says, smiling innocently. Cecil and Lou Ellen match him, eyes wide, expressions angelic.
Annabeth stomps over to them, fists clenched at her sides, entirely unmoved by the cherubic display in front of her. Nico stays right where he is, hidden by the shade of Cabin Eight.
“Explain yourselves,” Annabeth orders.
The three stooges exchange a look.
“Whatever do you mean,” Lou Ellen asks, shifting the boxes to free up her hand only to place it delicately over her chest. “Why, we are only helping our dear friend William —”
“Our dear, dear friend,” Cecil adds.
“— carry these many boxes of medical supplies, so as to lower his great burden —”
“Massive burden,” Will says sagely.
“— and free up his evening in order for him to spend his limited time with us, his most cherished friends.”
“Especially cherished,” Will and Cecil chorus together.
Unable to bite back a smile, Nico rolls his eyes so hard his skull hurts. They’re not even trying to not get caught, at this point. Idiots.
Clearly agreeing, Annabeth scoffs. “Yeah, right. Boxes down, all three of you. You’re being detained for suspected illicit substances.”
“Annabeth!” Will cries, hand to his chest, “after all I do for this camp, you would accuse me of being — illicit?! Me?! The outrage! The insult! The impugn, the —”
“Can it, Solace. Open the boxes.”
Huffing in perfect unison, the three of them carefully lower their boxes to the ground.
“Tape off.”
Intentionally slowly, they run a nail along the edge of the packing tape.
“Flaps open, guys, c’mon.”
With flourish, the trio fling open the thin cardboard panels. Inside each box is rows of bandages, packaged syringes, sterile bands, tongue compresses, and more that Nico can’t name. Annabeth glares at the boxes with perhaps more disdain than the situation calls for.
Then again.
It is camp.
“See?” says Cecil, gesturing grandly. “The shipment just came in from my dad.”
Like a hound dog locking in on a bleeding squirrel, Annabeth’s eyes narrow. Her lips spread into wide, frankly maniacal smirk.
“Your dad is in a conference with the rest of the Olympians right now, Markowitz.”
Caught.
“Well,” Cecil says, and then nothing else.
“He meant it in the royal sense,” Lou Ellen pipes up in his silence. Cecil nods frantically. “You know, ‘just’ as in, like, recently, as in this morning —”
“Do you three think I’m stupid.”
“It’s just medical supplies! You can look through them if you want —”
Even if they weren’t acting like criminals, Nico knows his friends. He knows his boyfriend, especially, and recognises that damn look on his face. He can also physically see Annabeth’s stress ulcer coming back.
Closing his eyes, Nico fades into Cabin Six’s shadow. It’s a quick jump, so the stretch is easy, and the darkness bows easily to his hold. He reappears silently behind the group, taking advantage of the setting sun, and darts out to grip Lou Ellen’s arm.
“Boo,” he whispers.
She shrieks at the top of her lungs, jumping three clean feet in the air. Coincidently, the boxes of medical supplies flicker, turning into a truly baffling amount of instant mashed potato boxes.
“I knew it!” Annabeth shouts.
On cue, all three doofuses turn to Nico, jeering and complaining about ‘ruining the fun’. Nico’s glare is ineffective on Doofus #1, but the other two can be cowed. He focuses on channelling the flames of hell to reflect in his eyes like his father showed him until they look away, muttering at the ground.
“We still don’t have any illicit substances,” Will insists, glaring right back. Nico sticks out his tongue. He crosses his eyes like a four year old. How immature, honestly. “So we’re just gonna take our stuff and —”
“Absolutely not, Golden Boy. Put that hand away.”
Wisely, Will draws slowly back from the boxes, tucking his hands in his pocket.
Annabeth stares, hard, at the three of them, flicking her dark eyes from the potatoes and back. The tips of her worn-out converse tap slowly on the packed grass, tip-tap-tip-tap, as they all squirm.
Understanding dawns on her quickly.
“It’s supposed to rain tomorrow, for the strawberry plants.”
They squirm harder.
“Oh, you godsdamn bitches.”
“It would’ve been really funny,” Cecil mumbles, staring at the ground. “Rain making the ground turn into a sea of mashed potatoes. Like Cloudy With A Chance Of Meatballs.”
“The only meatballs around here are the ones clogging up your skull!” Annabeth shouts, which doesn’t quite make sense but sounds clever coming from her anyway. “Who was gonna clean that up, huh? Magic?”
“I mean, probably,” Lou Ellen says, promptly shutting up at Annabeth’s glare.
“And you, Will! I cannot believe! Where is that responsibility you’re known for, huh?”
Will pouts. “I can be responsible and do fun things.”
“Fun, he says. I’m going to fucking kill you, how’s that for fun. The one day I’m left in charge, I cannot believe —”
“If it helps, it’s less about you and more about April Fools being tomorrow,” Cecil interjects tentatively. “Like, we were going to do this whether or not Chiron left.”
Annabeth glares darkly. “Of fucking course you were. It’s always you three, I swear to the gods. I should have known.”
“It’s honestly kind of embarrassing for you guys,” Nico adds. He smiles smugly at them, relishing in their rolled eyes and mocking hands. “Like, everyone expected this. You did this to yourselves, honestly.”
“Boo, you jag,” Lou Ellen protests. The other two knuckleheads joint in the booing, Will taking it an extra stop forward and blowing a raspberry, both thumbs pointing down. Nico responds with a wide grin and two middle fingers.
“Enough,” Annabeth says, rubbing her temples. “Extra chores, all three of you. Go help the cleaning harpies until sundown. And not another peep of complaint or I’ll have you on chores tomorrow, too.”
Without another glance at them, she turns around and walks away, muttering at least you caught it early at least you caught it early at least you caught it early over and over to herself.
“Pretty sure you guys have physical labour to do,” Nico says brightly when she disappears into the Big House. “I’d get started on that, if I were you.”
“Butthead,” Cecil mutters.
“Kiss-ass,” Lou Ellen agrees, making a face.
“Traitor,” Will whispers, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he walks past.
Nico watches them go, standing guard over the boxes in case they try to come back for them.
He can’t help but think that they all look a little too jovial for having their plans ruined before they even started.
———
“Is he still looking?”
“No.”
“Okay, Phase Three, let’s go let’s go let’s go —”
———
Every time Nico wakes with the sun, he sets aside twenty minutes of his morning routine to curse Apollo, his father, Apollo again, Phanes, and Prometheus. In that order.
He does like the bonus of getting breakfast. Usually he sleeps through it and has to hope Will saved him coffee cake, which he does, every time, because he wants to bribe his way into Nico’s affections. But there is something to be said about camp coffee cake when it is still warm, crumbly on the top and soft on the inside. It is a rare and occasionally worth-it treat, and on his bleary walk to the dining pavilion, Nico tries to keep this in the forefront of his mind. Fresh coffee cake. Fresh coffee. Fresh fruit. And Will, probably, not that seeing him is worth getting up early or anything. (So what that he gets all excited and energetic when he sees Nico up in the morning. If anything it’s embarrassing for him.)
For once, he’s actually early enough that there are very few people already at breakfast. He sees most of the Athena kids, still half-asleep over their mugs, and pretty much every camper under the age of eleven. A few head counsellors, too, watching out for the little ones or catching up on a rare moment of quiet. Nico makes a beeline for the breakfast spread, cutting a slice of coffee cake to leave on the platter and putting the rest of it on his plate. He puts a single strawberry in the middle of it so no one can accuse him of being unhealthy, then ambles over to the Apollo table.
“Neeks? Where’re you going?”
Nico pauses. He shifts his plate to one hand, rubbing at his bleary eyes. He looks at the Apollo table. He counts one, two, three heads — Kayla, Austin, and…Cecil?
“Nico? You good, babes?”
He turns, slowly, to face the voice. Picking at a plate full of pineapple, next to Reika Onason, Lou Ellen's sister, is Will.
“I know mornings are hard for you, but you’re meant to eat at your table,” he teases. “Come sit, doofus. Unless you’re taking advantage of Chiron’s absence to make friends elsewhere, I guess, but it seems unlike you.”
“You’re — what’re you — what?“ Nico says dumbly, struggling to reconcile the imagine in front of him.
For some reason, Will is eating his breakfast at the Hecate table.
And that is not all.
For some reason, his camp shirt does not say head medic. For some reason, he is wearing black jeans. For some reason, dozens of Celestial bronze rings adorn his fingers, carved with sigils. For some reason, his hair is clipped back, and there is black eyeliner around his bright blue eyes, and his nails are painted darker than Nico’s, and he is sitting at the Hecate table.
“What are you doing?”
“Having…breakfast,” Will says slowly. His lips turn down in concern. “Nico, are you okay?”
“I’m fine! It’s — you’re the one acting weird!”
Will and Reika exchange a look.
“Maybe you should go see Cecil,” Will suggests carefully. “Did you sleep okay last night? Maybe you hit your head —”
Nico looks desperately back at the Apollo table. They watch him strangely now, too, and after a second Cecil gets up from his — Will’s — seat, and walks over.
“Everything okay?” he asks, impish expression almost serious. “You look pale, Nico.”
“I’m worried,” Will says. “He’s acting — confused, Cece, maybe there’s a —”
“I’m not confused,” Nico scowls. “You two are — doing something.” He gestures vaguely between them. “As revenge for yesterday.”
Will snorts. “What, the potatoes? Don’t let Lou hear you discredit her like that. If you think she’d plan some revenge prank on you this early, you don’t know her at all.”
Nico’s head starts to hurt. He sets down his plate, rubbing his temples. Why would Lou Ellen be so bothered by that? Why isn’t she here, with her sister? What the hell is going on?
“Both of you — cut it out. Whatever dumbass prank you’re pulling is just stupid.”
“Did I hear something about a prank?” Bounding over from the camp store, arms laden with contraband junk food, is Lou Ellen, smiling brightly. “Whatever it is, I want in!”
“Oh, thank the gods, you’re back.” Will makes grabby hands at the pile. She tosses him a pack of twizzlers off the top, rolling her eyes as he tears into like he didn’t just polish off two and a half entire pineapples and three bowls of oatmeal. “I was going through withdrawal.”
“I’m not helping you when your stomach cramps up,” Cecil promises, snorting. His eyes follow the candy ropes in their harried journey towards Will's gaping maw. “You can sit in your misery.”
“Bleh bleh bleh.”
Nico narrows his eyes at them. Clearly, they’re all in on this — bit, or whatever it is. It’s a little too coordinated to be a quickly-planned revenge prank. They must have had a backup to the potatoes, although a pretty weak one. Unless they somehow managed to bribe the entire camp into agreeing to act along with their dumbassery, and Nico knows none of them can come even close to affording that, then all it takes is one person on Nico’s side before their little ruse is broken.
“It’s too early for this,” Nico says, interrupting their bickering. He picks up his breakfast and trudges off to his actual table, ignoring Will’s pouting. He has to brush the dust off the bench, but it’s worth it to avoid whatever headache the three of them will inevitably give him.
Coffee cake, save him.
———
“It’s not looking good, Katara —”
“I actually like that one.”
“— he’s totally onto us.”
“Just stick to the plan. Power onto Phase Four.”
———
To Nico's great satisfaction, many other people do double takes as they walk into breakfast.
As the Athena table, minus Annabeth, who is likely putting out a literal or metaphorical fire somewhere, wakes up, they start to notice the strange seating situation. It starts with Malcolm, who stares at Cecil in a lab coat with the same expression Nico has seen him wear when attempting to solve the Hodge conjecture. He leans over to murmur something in his brother’s ear, and then all seven of them are looking between the Hecate, Apollo, and mostly-empty Hermes tables with suspicious frowns and furrowed brows.
Nico catches Will’s eye, smirking.
Game’s up, he mouths. Will only shrugs innocently at him.
It’s Annabeth who finally puts a stop to the nonsense, striding in at the tail end of the rest of the slowly-waking crowd. She has grass in her hair and murder in her eyes.
Excellent.
“I swear to the gods, I just dealt with you three,” she snaps, raising her voice so they all can hear her. Coincidentally, it attracts the attention of every other nosy person at camp, which is everybody. “Just ‘cause Chiron’s not here doesn’t mean the rules go out the window. Back to your tables, let’s move.”
“We’re at our tables,” Cecil protests. “Why do people keep saying that?”
Annabeth takes a very deep, very long breath. She has a whole day of this, too. How unfortunate for her.
“Maybe because you are full of shit, Markowitz. Go sit with the rest of you troublemakers.”
Kayla clears her throat. “Annabeth, I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” Her thin eyebrows are drawn tightly together, lips turned down into a frown. “Cecil is exactly where he’s supposed to be.”
That gives her pause.
That gives a lot of people pause. Nico sets down his coffee cake.
“Cecil’s at the Apollo table,” Annabeth says slowly.
Kayla meets her gaze, face creased in concern. “...Yeah, I know.”
“Cecil is a Hermes kid, Kayla.”
She snorts. “Yeah, sometimes I think so, too. But as much as I would absolutely love to trade my brother —”
“Hey!”
“He’s a healer, Annabeth. He got claimed and everything.”
“I don’t have time for this,” Annabeth says, dragging her hand down her face. “Kayla, I don’t know what they paid you —”
“Oh, for goodness’ sake.” With a clatter of plates, Will clambers on the table, clapping his hands. “Your attention please, everyone!”
Without so much as a pause, Will claps his hands together. Immediately, a ball of green light expands from them, flashing almost too bright to look at. Nico watches, slack jawed, as he tosses it into the air, making it explode into a thousand little sparkles, descending gently over everyone’s heads. The little kids laugh in delight, reaching for them like they’re bubbles.
“Does that settle things?” he demands.
Silence rings for one, two, three seconds.
The camp erupts.
Dozens of voices overlap, all shouting over each other at once. Hands gesture wildly at Will, at Cecil, at Lou — trying to piece things together. Will is their head medic — isn’t he? Then why is Cecil wearing scrubs? And why is Lou chilling at the Hermes’ table, chatting with Julia over a bowl of cereal? Something isn’t right.
“Just — everybody quiet!”
It takes a minute, but everyone settles down, sitting back in their seats and fidgeting, looking around with half-confused, half-amused smiles. Like they’re laughing at a joke they’re half convinced is real.
“Who thinks this —” Annabeth makes some vaguely indicative movement at Will, Lou, and Cecil — “is weird? Raise your hand.”
Almost all hands go up. Only a handful stay down — Will, Lou Ellen, and Cecil, of course, but the entirety of the Hermes cabin stays oddly silent, as do Kayla, Austin, Reika, and, shockingly, Clovis.
“Stoll,” Nico demands before Annabeth gets the chance, “you’re buying this?”
“Buying what?” Connor says after a moment. He shrugs, eyes twinkling in amusement. “I’m just chillin’ with my sister, Nico. Cecil is great, but he hasn’t been in our cabin since he got claimed.”
The rest of the Hermes kids nod in agreement. Whispers filter through the tables — first Kayla, now all the Hermes kids?
“If I may,” interjects Clovis, yawning. “There’s an…energy, around.”
“Gods, yeah, I was feeling it too,” Will agrees frantically. “Almost a…blanket, of some kind. Something heavy and stifling.”
Malcolm looks over with interest. “You think we got cursed, or something? The whole camp?”
Will shrugs. “Maybe? Can’t think of any other reason you guys are remembering things weird.”
“It could be a god’s interference,” Nyssa suggests, raising her voice to be heard from the Hephaestus table. “I mean, that’s what happened to Jason and Leo and Piper, right? Their memories got fudged.”
“Yeah, but camp-wide…”
“Could still be possible.”
“There’s no way! They’re fucking with us, come on —”
It doesn’t take long for the arguing to start up again. This time, though, more people looked spooked — more people look to the dumbass trio themselves, eyes wide like they’re looking at ghosts.
Like they’re believing this shit.
Nico scowls, shoving away from his table and stomping over to his boyfriend.
“You are so full of shit I can smell you from across the room,” he says, raising his voice to be heard over the noise.
“I don’t know what you want me to say.” He wiggles his fingers in Nico’s direction. They spark with the same green light. “Want me to switch your eyes and ears again?”
That sounds horrifying. “Try it and die.”
“Alright, grouchy.” He holds his hands up, stepping back from Nico’s glare. “I’ll keep my hands to myself.”
Alarm bells go off in Nico’s head. This is more than just strange, it’s wrong. And not just ‘cause he looks different — so what if he looks different. Will could shave his head bald and tattoo himself purple, Nico wouldn’t care.
But his aura.
The essence of Will, that Nico has grown so used to be stopped noticing. The quiet, warmth strength, the feeling of a soft breeze in the summer, of walking past a window in the late afternoon, of smokey August campfires and scratchy guitar, is gone. Is different, rather; almost blocked. It feels like a cloud blowing over the sun, making everything warped and off and shadowy.
Something is afoot. Something is wrong, and not just some vague, made-up spell like the Trickster Trio would have the camp believe. Something like smoke and mirrors, something shadier.
He watches Will fall into step next to Cecil, ducking away from his ruffling hand. He frowns.
If there’s one thing Nico can do, it’s wade through the shadows.
———
next
my favourite button ever is "open link in new tab"..
Consider:
Leo Valdez was not born. Instead, two pairs of hands form him from bronze and steel and gold. His hair is copper wires so thin it bounces like natural curls, and his eyes glimmer with silver flakes. The joints of his body are plated so delicately, so perfectly, the segments are near indiscernible, smoothly gliding over each other. Faint traces of fingerprints and flecks of impurity are deliberately left behind for their uniqueness, a form of impossible signature of his creators.
Most importantly, gilded bars curl around each other in his chest, protecting the red-red-red flame that pushes his eyes open everyday, that beats in tune with his thoughts, that heats his body to expand and grow.
A metal child is not so different from a human one, and yet is so far from it at the same time. He is curious, about the world, about himself, and he picks apart toys and TV remotes and his arms, spilling their secrets before his constantly shifting eyes. He does not cry from fatigue or thirst or hunger, but a bump, a dent, a scratch never fail to draw tears. He splashes in the rain and snow, carefully bundled in waterproof coats and jackets, and runs from baths like he's possessed, fire flickering in fear.
The first time he meets someone like him, an endeavour he had long thought hopeless, it is a malfunctioning dragon others call for the death of; he is too unpredictable, too dangerous, too broken. Leo looks him in ever-shifting eyes glimmering with silver and sees himself if the cage in his chest ever bends, cracks, shatters, if the gears beneath his skin ever jam and stick and wear down irreversibly.
It is not golden flowers and godly aid that preserve him; just as he'd done for his twin-in-all-but-appearance, he creates a new body, with new fingerprints and impurities mapping his design. His hair is more bronze than copper, now, and his eyes more gold than brass. The plates of his joints scrape against each other faintly, and the gears of his bones grind together uncomfortably — he only had so much time, so much material to use, he could not polish every element of himself in the way he wished, but it holds together.
Most importantly, he reinforces the cage in his chest, coats it in layers upon layers of metal, to ensure his flame will not go out in the explosion, that Festus will be able to salvage it and lay it gently in the chest cavity carefully carved in his new body, bringing it to life.
He returns to Camp, movements more clunky and mechanical than should be, and his siblings finally pin down his segmented limbs, his shifting eyes, his clicking fidgeting. They are ecstatic, just as fascinated with him as they had been with Festus, and he lets them. He lets them take him apart, piece by piece, clean out the sand of Ogygia from his organs, polish and oil his gears until they glide against each other, press new fingerprints, new signatures of belonging, against his skin. They craft him a secure, intricate cage, with golden flames licking up the bars, with delicate chains shielding it from the elements, and his flame settles inside it, flickering happily, finally truly, truly comfortable in the cage of his body.
Leo Valdez may not have been born, but he was crafted with the most loving hands imaginable, and is that not so much better, for a son of the Craftsman?
oh my fucking gods.
One thing i do think about (in regard to both the book and the show) is how it would make so much sense for Percy to know a startling amount of history. Like obviously we know he’s not the most academically inclined but i like to imagine that when it came to history class he was always freakishly good at it—like if they were at a WW2 museum listening to some audio play over a display documenting the Pacific War how Percy would just know what ships went where, how he would be looking at the uniforms in the glass cases and recognize some of the names even though he has no idea why.
And it’s all because water has memory.
He knows these sailors, these ships, these niche events that the history books scarcely even cover because he’s the son of the sea. He doesn’t have to go out of his way to try and learn the timeline of things or the details of certain historical events because he just knows them subconsciously because the water remembers it all.
wAtER haS MemORy
olaf, probably.
Ok but imagine if Will motherfucking Solace went to mortal medical school, like, that would be fuckin HILARIOUS
Will, who has years of experience, seeing the worst imaginable shit there is, having practice and being the little sunny boy he is while being ABSOLUTELY UNBOTHERED with ANY of the shit
They would think he's a psychopath, like, come on XDDDD
And when they see his death-looking emo boyfriend? Hah, serial killers
headcanon that percy and annabeth's ability to wordlessly communicate on the battlefield isn't because of years of training as soldiers. but because their signals are just layers upon layers of inside jokes. like, annabeth makes a finger gun motion toward a monster and everyone thinks she's telling percy to shoot it. except only he knows she's actually directing him to throw something the size of burrito at it. or, percy making a slit-throat motion toward an annoying camper and everyone thinks he telling annabeth to hurt them. but only she knows he's actually asking her to insult the camper so badly that the insult cuts to the bone.
Percy this. Percy that. It was always about Percy Jackson. All the fucking time.
It was always about the Hero of Olympus, the one who defeated Kronos and led the battle of Manhattan, the one who was offered immortality by the king of the gods himself, the one who restored glory to Rome by returning the golden eagle, the one who became praetor of the Roman camp in 2 weeks with limited training.
His Roman camp. Jason Grace's Roman camp.
Percy Jackson had pulled off everything in 2 weeks that Jason Grace wasn't able to accomplish despite dedicating his whole life for duty. 11 years of blood, sweat and tears, simply gone down the drain.
Jason had failed his camp. He had failed his home. Turns out, he wasn't as great as the people of Rome had once preached about him. It was obvious considering the less than warm welcome he had gotten from his so-called “home”.
He received no hugs, no cheers, no “we missed you jason!”, no “I was so worried about you!” or even a single pat on the arm by his “friend” Dakota. Dakota and Gwendolyn hadn't even spared a glance at him.
Nothing. Instead, this new Jackson boy was held up to worship like a god amongst the people who once considered Jason a “hero”.
Jason laughed bitterly. Was it selfish of him to be disappointed with Reyna? With a pang, he got to know that Reyna hadn't sent a single search party out to look for her “best friend”. Not like Annabeth did for Percy, not like Thalia did for Percy.
With a pang, he got to know that the whole camp basically deemed him as ‘dead’ and Reyna hadn't even set up a memorial of remembrance for him. The camp had simply moved on with their new hero. Without a single shred of thought for Jason Grace.
The forgotten Hero. The lost hero. Jason Grace.
These thoughts of doubt gnawed on Jason's mind, slowly eating him up ever since he'd first seen Percy Jackson in those damned praetor togas that once belonged to him.
He didn't dislike the boy, of course not, it wasn't Percy's fault that Hera wiped their memories or switched camps.
But it was hard for Jason to not resent him, or feel even the tiniest amount of envy, knowing that Reyna willingly replaced him with Jackson. Very quickly too, at that. He overheard Octavian blabbing to his lackeys about how Reyna “was head over heels for Percy almost immediately”
“I guess that's it. Maybe I am someone who is easy to replace.” Jason thought, his eyes pricking as he looked over from the flying ship, at the place he once used to call home.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jason watched remorsefully as Thalia, Grover, Percy and Annabeth were all gathered at the table in camp half blood, cracking jokes about dam french fries or whatever that meant.
Thalia caught Jason's eyes, staring at all of them from a distance. She smiled softly, and gave him a tiny wave. He weaved his lips into something that was meant to look like a wry smile, but it came out as a slight grimace, as he waved back.
Thalia was so close to Jason, yet so far away.
He knew she loved him, but it felt different. And an annoying, nagging part of Jason had known that Thalia would never be as close to him as she was to Annabeth or Percy.
Ironic isn't it? Jason and Thalia were always connected since they came from the same womb, yet she was closer to Annabeth, a girl she'd found after she had run away from the same woman that had given Jason to the wolves. The same woman who had turned his life upside down by abandoning him.
Thalia had found Annabeth right after she thought she had lost Jason. In a strangely ironic way, Jason felt like he'd been replaced all over again.
Thalia had replaced Jason as a younger sibling with Annabeth without even realizing it, all of this took place mere months after a baby Jason was considered to be dead. This situation had strangely reminded him of Camp Jupiter, how he was replaced by Percy right after Jason was considered “dead” by Camp Jupiter.
This made Jason reach the possibility that if he were indeed “dead”, he wouldn't be missed. People wouldn't bat an eyelash. Since there was always someone better than him. Someone like Percy Jackson, who could easily fill the void Jason would leave behind.
His eyes watered, as he looked at how much fun his sister had with his friends. Knowing full well, that he'd never be able to do the same.
Jason felt ashamed that he had to ask Percy about Thalia’s likes and dislikes, he was thalia’s brother. He was supposed to know.
Jason watched as Thalia quickly hugged the trio, as she left their table to leave with the hunters, not even realizing that there was one person whom she forgot to hug.
Don't take it personally. Don't take it personally. She just forgot. She doesn't hate you. She just forgot. She doesn't prefer Percy over you. She's in a hurry. That's why she forgot. Jason repeated that like a mantra, the only person he was trying to convince was himself.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“And he rejected immortality!- oh you should've seen Zeus' face!” Annabeth exclaimed to Hazel excitedly, as Percy was blushing at the compliment fountain being poured at him by Hazel and Annabeth.
Jason had always been fascinated by that story, the almighty Percy Jackson getting offered to become a god, by Zeus.
His father. Jason's father, Zeus.
Jason felt stupid and guilty for getting envious, it's not the fact that Percy had been offered immortality, no. Jason couldn't care less about being immortal. It was the person who offered Percy invincibility that bothered Jason so much.
Jason knew that even if he went to the ends of the world to accomplish something, his father wouldn't be able to praise him or even talk to him for a long time.
Zeus and Jason could never be like Hades and Nico, or Poseidon and Percy. That's just how it is.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Reyna had come to camp half blood for a fun visit. Jason would've been ecstatic in other circumstances, but in this case, he wanted to be as far away from her as possible. Because currently, Reyna seemed to be looking at everyone, but refused to meet Jason's eyes. She seemed to keep her distance as she laughed at something Percy and Piper were saying.
She may as well have just stabbed him, it would've hurt a lot less.
He had truly been naive to believe that he could make amends with Reyna. Now he knew, it would never be possible. There was too much pain mixed with bitterness on both ends. But seeing her get along with Percy reminded him of the old times of friendship he and Reyna had shared. Keyword: had.
Once again, the fates had shown him that Percy Jackson would always be better.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As Jason Grace lay on the cold floor, coughing out blood. He realized he was alone, he was dying, but he was alone.
Like always. The sickly voice of Gaia, that had once haunted his nightmares, boomed in his head. Jason knew he was hallucinating as a result of blood loss, Gaia is in deep slumber. But that did not stop the voice in his head that was invented by his insecurities. Even in the end, you've been forgotten, Jason Grace. Because that's what you will always be. The second best. The leftover. The pawn who is discarded, after his purpose has been fulfilled. Percy Jackson would always be better in everyone's eyes.
To the Romans, you are simply the one who betrayed his lineage. But Percy is the one who restored glory. He did your job for you.
To the Greeks, you are simply a burden, one whom they were forced to welcome.
To your father, you are merely one of his many sons.
To your sister, you are a stranger.
Jason's resolve to live had weakened, hot tears were streaming down his face as he closed his eyes in defeat, he had come to the painful conclusion that nobody is going to come find his body. Nobody is going to mourn him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Oh I will always be much better than you at this! Bring it on, dude!” Percy laughed as he striked his play sword lightsaber at Jason's. They clashed.
“You wish, Jackson!” Jason shot back jokingly, as they sparred playfully with toy lightsabers.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Jackson, you jerk. You were right after all, you will always be much better than me” Jason laughed bitterly, as he recalled that memory of his sparring session with Percy.
Suddenly everything went black. The life had successfully ebbed out of him.
Little did Jason know, was that someone had indeed come to look for him. Tempest, his Pegasus had come to retrieve his body, but Jason was long gone. People had indeed mourned him. His friends were, indeed, anguished. His sister was, indeed, heartbroken.
Jason's soul parted this world, with the knowledge that he'd always be The forgotten Hero.
The lost hero. Jason Grace.
oh my fucking gods.
Give me a Percy Jackson who hates swim team. Who went to a public pool for swim lessons once when he was five and started to sob the second his skin hit the water
give me a Percy Jackson who is always just the slightest bit unsettled at pools because water is never meant to have the life sucked out of it and be divided into lanes or put in boxes in the ground
Water isn’t meant to be contained.
a percy jackson whose skin feels like it’s slowly beginning to burn when he tries to swim in chlorinated water, who hates any set swim stroke with a passion and can’t stick to one for the life of him
who doesn’t understand why you’d want to keep only to the surface of the water, when being cradled under the surface is everything
because swimming is supposed to be like the tides, maybe patterned, but never identical, it’s supposed to be flowing with the world around you as you please
Give me a Percy Jackson who loves the sheer nature of water so much that he can’t help but quietly despise our “pools” and their dead water with their constricted sides and restrictions on what it means to change with the world around you
A Percy Jackson who is the child of water in its most natural state, and who can hardly bear to see the way society has attempted to contain it and sterilize it and strip away its power
He hates swim team, but that’s only the half of it
the problem with the met gala
i know that i'm a bit late to met gala bashing that's been going on since stray kids was disrespected at the met gala on the 6th of may.
they absolutely do not deserve this kind of treatment, especially not from such a big and influential event like the met gala, and the paparazzi present there. the least that the met gala could have done is hire professional photographers for the event. i mean, they are already spending MILLIONS OF DOLLARS to make the event happen, and they can't even hire actual photographers for the event?!
now, this was stray kids' first met gala. they were the first kpop group to be invited to the gala, and all the paparazzi do is fucking disrespect them??
their net worth is more than your (the paparazzi's) entire life.
malicious comments were made, racist opinions and hateful shit was said, and the met gala does nothing about it????
stays have found the paparazzi's account and website, and have tried to file cases and complaints on him, but the paparazzi's agency is already receiving a fuckton of complaints on him.
as a stay myself, i feel that hacking his website is going too far. i can understand filing complaints, and trying to get him blacklisted from the met gala, but hacking his website and making it say
#APOLOGIZE TO STRAY KIDS
is going too far. stays can show their anger however they want, but going as far as buying the website domain is too much.
i'm not saying that i am on his side, i am on stray kids'. whatever the stays can do to get him blacklisted from the met gala and his company is good for me.
Apologize for the disrespect at the met Gala!
Random headcanon: Percy suffers from chronic migrains and chronic pain!
Tension headaches! He gets them all the time.
Before he was claimed and knew what he was, whenever he'd get a migrain, Sally would tell him to go take a shower.
He would sit under the blisteringly hot shower until he felt better, and it always made him feel a bit better. Sally would make sure he drank an astronomically large amount of water, too. And while this wouldn't get rid of the migrain entirely, it would lessen it and make it more bearable.
Percy learned to live with his migraines. He'd drink a lot of water, take showers whenever he felt one coming on, and just kinda cope, yknow?
Once he was claimed though, and learned he was a demigod son of Poseidon, everything started to make a little more sense.
Of course the water helped him feel better!
It wasn't until the first time he was fully submerged in the ocean that he realized just how weird his body was.
And he didn't know for sure until he got back on land. But underwater, he felt more full of energy than ever, entirely pain-free and the world was sharper, his senses heightened. Everything was clear.
When he climbed out of the water and back onto land, though, the world seemed to dull and cloud over, like he was looking at it from inside a bubble or tank of some kind. And immediately his joints started to ache, which he hadn't realized wasn't, yknow, normal, until the pain returned full-force after climbing out of the ocean.
He asked Poseidon about it, once, and the God had winced and given him a pitying look before explaining that Percy's body is built to withstand the immense pressure from being deep in the ocean, and being on land puts a lot of stress on his body so it has to work really hard to keep him functioning like normal.
He explained that his kids often dealt with chronic pain or chronic migraines, but it was unusual that they suffered from both. However, Percy was the strongest child Poseidon had ever sired, having control over the entirety of Poseidon's sphere of influence where most of his kids only had control over part of it (meaning one could only control water and another could only control the earth, and some could only talk to horses and sea creatures. Though they could always breathe underwater).
He also explains that there isn't much to be done about it if Percy wishes to continue spending time on land outside of what he already has in place.
So Percy just continues to drink absurd amounts of water, take a ridiculous number of showers, and whenever possible, just spend a few hours under the ocean to relieve his pain for a while. Being submerged in other bodies of water helps, too, but only the ocean removes his pain completely. Baths and pools give him the least amount of pain relief, but do still help.
After holding up the sky, his wrists get even more fucked, and he takes to wearing braces on them to help lessen the strain somewhat.
And after Tartarus, his body is super out of balance and completely disjointed and discombobulated, but he pushes through it and ignores how out of touch with the world he feels because they have a job to do, the world to save, there's no time for him to wallow in his wacked out senses. (The others, if they knew how fucked up his body and senses and everything were, would have told him they absolutely had time and it would definitely be better to have him at the top of his game, but he didn't tell anyone, so no one told this to him.)
Once they do save the world and end the war and everything has settled down, Percy tells Annabeth he's gonna take a quick dip in the ocean (she knows abt his chronic pain and migraines and stuff but he never told the others) and then, once he's under, it's like the world comes back into hyperfocus, like his body has finally snapped back into place.
He hadn't realized just how, almost disassociated he had felt until then.
He just let himself sink to the ocean floor and settle into the sand, intending on a short nap to give his body some more time to readjust and recover. When he woke up and walked back out onto the beach, however, he was greeted by Annabeth running up and shaking him violently, screaming at him because apparently his 'little nap' had actually been three days long and Annabeth had started to panic that he'd gone missing again. He was quick to apologize and sheepishly explain how fucked up and disoriented he'd been since coming back from Tartarus and how he now finally felt settled in his own skin again.
Annabeth smacked him on the arm and berated him for not telling her about how he was feeling before and consistently beating down his excuses of 'we were busy,' and 'it wasn't important,' and what not.
After that fiasco, he told the rest if the seven abt his chronic pain and migraines and how the only real relief he got from them was being in the ocean (because of course they had all been worried and searching for him too) and they all nodded in understanding and gave him hugs and told him that next time he had better just tell them he was feeling shitty and disjointed instead of fucking off into the ocean for three days with no warning. He promised he'd tell them, but honestly, he hadn't meant to be gone for that long, and it was probably only because he had been so far away from the ocean for so long and then hadn't been in it for even longer and wouldn't disappear for that long again.
Usually, anywhere from a few minutes to a few hours were enough, depending on how bad he felt and how long it had been since he'd last spent some time underwater.
On a funny note, after all this, Percy was explaining how his senses were duller on land, and Jason asked him if he thought he needed glasses too and Percy just kinda stopped because no he had never considered that glasses might be helpful on land so he brought it up to Sally after their reunion and she took him to the eye doctor and he got glasses! And they helped! His prescription wasn't too high, and he could obviously get by just fine without them, but they were nice to have. Eventually, though, he got tired of them constantly slipping and sliding and flying off his face whenever he got in a fight or was practicing ect and went and got contacts! He liked that much better lol
Other random tidbits:
Percy gets really agitated and his chronic pain and migraines get worse the farther he is from large bodies of water, so going inland sucks. In tlt that trip across country was probably the worst he had ever felt (until Tartarus that is). They try to go on vacation or something in a landlocked area of the US and Percy just gets so agitated, and his joints hurt so much and get so stiff and the whole time he has an absolutely awful migraine and not even showers help and feels just so bad but also kind of disconnected and floaty, unable to focus od think clearly at all and when they get back to NY and he heads to camp for a bit he ends up staying underwater in the Sound for a day and a half.
They try not to go anywhere landlocked for any period of time ever again. And if they do have to travel cross-country for any reason (quests, vacations, ect) they make sure their route always takes them past rivers and lakes and ponds and make frequent stops by them so Percy can spend a few minutes underwater.
One time though, Percy gets a quest and takes Annabeth and Piper with him and it leads them to fucking Arizona out in the middle of the desert and it ends up falling mostly to Annabeth and Piper to finish the quest because the lack of water pretty much everywhere really gets to Percy and once it's all taken care of, the girls have to practically drag Percy to nearest hotel and they get a room and fill the bathtub and just let him soak in there until he's cognizant enough for them to get him somewhere better. The closest large body of water is the Rio Grande, so they get over there as fast as they can, then make their way back to camp traveling along the coast or by rivers. Percy doesn't come fully back to himself until they get to the Gulf of Mexico, and then once they leave that behind, until they get back to camp.
Percy refuses to ever go into a desert again.
However, he does love rainforests. He goes to help Grover in the Amazon once and absolutely thrives! It doesn't take away the pain like being in the ocean does, but the air is always humid and everything is always damp and wet so even though he's kinda far from the ocean, he doesn't feel any different than if he were to be hanging out on the coast.
Speaking of, Percy absolutely loves the rain! He's not a fan of thunderstorms, and makes sure to stay inside if there's lightning (because we all know zeus would try to strike him with it) but otherwise, he'll be outside it in running around and just tilting his face up into the rain and enjoying it. Rain always makes him feel calm and eases his joint pain some.
Related: he loves to watch old movies and musicals with his mom and if he's out in the rain, you can usually hear him humming Gene Kelly's Singin' in the Rain! Sometimes he'll even do the dance
While on land, Percy's movements, to him, always feel a little stiff and clunky, he feels heavy and unwieldy on bad days. But to everyone else, he has all the lithe, effortless grace and power of a big cat stalking it's prey. Underwater, his beauty is indescribable. His grace is unmatched, he moves as one with the water around him, quick as lightning. His movements are easy and sure, in tune with every part of himself and all the movement of the water surrounding him. Few people get to see him move underwater, and fewer still have been able to see him fight underwater, but those who have are always astounded by it.
Okay so this kinda stopped being me talking about Percy having chronic pain and migraines but! Yeah, he does. And he's still badass and while he's bad at recognizing his own limits, he has people that care for him and help him take care of himself when they notice it getting really bad.
pjo instagram profiles ♡
a complete look at all the major heros of olympus via instagram <3
Songs I Need to Hear in Future PJO Seasons (ft. me being very intense for no reason)
Angel with a Shotgun by the Cab - SEASON 👏 FIVE 👏 TRAILER 👏 it's literally about stepping up as a hero and fighting a war for what you love without caring what the gods would think, BANGER OF A SONG also so percy in tlo coded
Welcome to New York by Taylor Swift (Sad acoustic version) - Hear me out. It's a panoramic shot of New York during the war, and what the song describes as a city of new beginnings and dreams is now a city of the end of a lot of lives and crushed souls. And it won't ruin the sad vibe because it's a sad acoustic version
Labyrinth by Taylor Swift - Do I need to explain? S4, a slow-mo shot of annabeth staring numbly at the volcano exploding with tears down her face and her mouth opening to a scream as the lyrics "I'll be getting over you my whole life" echo, it's not a want, it's a need.
The Freaks by Jordan Clarke - The most camp half blood song to ever camp half blood, I need this song in an introductory shot of camp or at a campfire sing along scene
I Wanna Be Yours by The Arctic Monkeys - Okay, this is more of a vibe related song suggestion than a lyrics based song, but a scene with percy and annabeth pining over each other with this song in the background? would be chefs kiss. (also rick loves vintage songs in his books and this is a very vintage sounding song sooo)
Brutal by Olivia Rodrigo - Self explanatory, I just need the song, no matter what scene or character
literally any imagine dragons song
Riptide by Vance Joy (Cover) - the same song, the same cover except SON OF NEPTUNE TRAILER COME ON NOW
Not going to happen, but at least an instrumental of Good Kid when annabeth talks to piper in the lost hero season about how everybody had been searching for percy for weeks
The Prophecy by Taylor Swift - You know what a TLO adaptation means, right? It means a proper rewrite of the book to make it better, right? Which means we can write percy being actually depressed because of the prophecy, not just him ignoring it like how he did in the book, right? So imagine: when the whole "If I have to die, I have to die" dialogue comes around during the revealing of the prophecy, this song starts playing as percy storms out the room in anger and disbelief. He just goes to his rooms and buries his face in the pillow and starts sobbing with this song in the background. Also the 'just want someone who wants my company' lyric also expresses his feelings towards the rachel and annabeth drama.
Add on in the reblogs and comments of your ideas hehe😁
so fucking true