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@tidaltow
|| 🌊🔱 Look—
« I didn't want to be a half-blood. »
independent, highly selective, dash-only, iconless roleplay blog for Percy Jackson of the Riordanverse. mix of book and show canon. written by Sammy (she/her; born 1994). °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖° this is a SIDEBLOG; follows back from badboysupr. ⚠️ NOT SPOILER-FREE. ⚠️ 🌊🔱 interaction memes (always open!)
RULES – INFO – VERSES
#Percy went from not quite being ready to acknowledge Tyson as his brother yet, to going straight in for that hug 🥹
continued from here with @tidaltow
Tyson shifts guiltily. It's true, he'd told his brother he would in their cabin for the evening. "I didn't know where you were. Missed you."
It isn't unusual for him to be struck by emotion after the sun goes down. The light leaves and all the shadowed corners look a little more like haunted alleyways. Not wanting to interrupt whatever important thing Percy was doing, Tyson instead opted to go to the forge to get his mind off things.
Imagine is shock and delight when he found his brother there. He has to hold himself back from rushing over, and presses his hands together to keep them contained. "Can I help?" Please?
If Percy was going to be brutally honest, he had actually been seeking some alone time, which was a privilege that became scarcer and scarcer nowadays. (And who in their right mind would think to search for him here of all places?) When Tyson looked at him like that, however, he quickly could confirm two things: 1) He no longer wanted to be brutal about anything; 2) The whole “alone time” aspect wasn’t even totally honest anymore.
Tyson didn’t have to say a word about it. He stared—nervously, even—at Percy, and everything in his expression gave him away within an instant . . . just as quickly as any minuscule shred of annoyance Percy felt dissolved into his own flavor of guilt. And then he was the one shuffling in place, quietly berating himself for not even thinking about how scared and lonely the guy must feel . . .
He’s about to say something. An apology, maybe. For thoughts Tyson couldn’t have known he’d had. When his brother draws closer, though, a newfound excitement humming in the air, he bites his tongue. Percy watches him for a moment. And he can’t help it: he lets out the lightest chuff of a laugh before gesturing helplessly to the breastplate.
“Yeah, man.” He nods, then takes a step back to let Tyson through, bowing out of the way. “It’s nothing exciting, but uh . . . My armor got all dented up. I just wanted to, y’know . . . fix it before I need it again. Pretty much baby stuff for you.”
PERCY JACKSON & THE OLYMPIANS | S2E3 -> S2EP5
must he always tread the line of annoyance and infuriating her? percy jackson, staring at her with his big, blue eyes and letting her know that he would be willing ... wanting ... to what? get rid of the son of hermes entirely? it chilled her —— she never expected him to be so ruthless ... the prophecy hangs deep in the caverns of her mind, causing her to take a small step away from him to let out a breath she didn't even know she was concealing.
" you do not want to debate with me, seaweed brain. " it's warning, it's a lethal sentence. she was defensive; about luke? about her ability to provide a point? " we *MAKE him talk. percy, i've known luke since i was eight. i know somewhere, deep inside, he's still there. and i can get to him, i just need to get him away from all of this. away from kronos. " there's a desperate plea in her eyes, staring up at him.
annabeth doesn't pace. she is stoic and solid in her place, the cogs of her brain spinning overtime. " if i could get him alone. no interfering traitors or monsters ... " a slow nod, as if it would work. ( as if percy would allow her to be alone with him; after everything he had done. ) " you have to help me get him away from it all — if it's just him and me, i'm sure i can talk some sense in to him. " eyes flick over the son of the sea's face, teeth clasping her bottom lip tightly. her face softens, almost melting when she looks at him and her heart clammers ... why? why couldn't she stare at him the same way she would anyone else?
Percy has never been the most graceful of guys, and right now, he’s convinced he’s walking on a tightrope. The way Annabeth looks at him—even for just that split second—scares him, maybe almost as much as his display of ruthlessness scares her. And it should, really. On all accounts. The fact that he felt such an unchecked rage contorting his insides that was strong enough to twitch in his hands, to want to take action, was bad enough all on its own, but realizing that one of the only things keeping it at bay was Annabeth . . .
Oh, gods. If she wasn’t around, what would those ugly feelings eventually culminate to? He doesn’t want to think about it.
So, he gives this to her. He attempts to hear her out. Despite all his stubbornness, he knows she’s got a point. . . . He just hates having to admit it—especially when it comes to Luke. Holding a stiff jaw (somehow managing not to make several retorts that are primed and ready on the tip of his tongue), Percy nods somewhat shakily to her plan. At least for the first few sentiments. It’s when she says that offensive “alone” that he straightens and stares at her like she’s grown a second head.
“No. That’s not happening.” Look, he tries to sound somewhat authoritative here (copying Annabeth again), but like his very own vocal chords are against him, too, his voice partially cracks. Percy clears his throat. “Getting him away from everyone else? Sure, fine. I can work with that, but I’m not letting you talk to him alone.” Of course, he’s saying all of this as if Annabeth Chase couldn’t do anything she set her mind to, but he’s sure gonna try.
He shuffles his feet again, still wrestling that energy thrumming through him. “I need to be there. Even if Luke doesn’t know I’m there.”
🐑Sheep Percabeth🐑
+bonus:
「🍧The vampire crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. How could he not realize he lived here? ❝ Are you an idiot? Ruki-kun and I have the same last name, and that didn't ring any bells for you? ❞ He scoffed and folded his arms across his chest as he leaned against the doorframe. ❝ No wonder you need a tutor. ❞ The malice that influenced his words came from his belief that Percy had insulted him. And the issue was only made worse by the fact that the idol never confirmed the authenticity of the words. Perhaps an unfortunate side effect of his career and how catty it was. On one hand, he didn't really understand why Percy would insult him in the first place. The guy didn't even know him, right? Then again, as an idol, you faced criticism from those who barely knew you. There was always a reason behind being disliked.
Should he consider confronting him about it? Especially now that they were alone? If the rumour was true, then he wanted to know why. And it went deeper than that. He wanted to prove him wrong. Just because he was an idol didn't mean he was a slacker like some of the rest of them. Even though his appearance seemed enough for his fans, he still practiced singing, dancing, and acting. The last thing he wanted was to be made fun of as the idol who couldn't even do the bare minimum, or worse...be pitied. But before he could even say anything, he was thrown off guard.
Cute shirt? Cute...
The ire displayed on his face softened to a look of more surprise and confusion. Did he just get called cute? No, the shirt. His own eyes glanced down as his hands pulled the shirt out just a little, as if he had forgotten what he had put on. Did Percy like cats, too? Did he think the shirt was cute because he was wearing it? No, right? It had to be sarcasm. Why would this guy genuinely use the word cute with him? Then again, he seemed to have an effect on people. More so on humans, though the supernatural could be swayed by his so-called beauty, too. More importantly, why was he even questioning this? It didn't matter at all what Percy's reasons were; he was still a jerk! ❝ Wait! ❞ But for some reason, he reached out for his wrist to keep him from going, despite claiming he had wanted him to leave.
Whether he actually got hold of his wrist or not, even briefly, he himself almost seemed confused by his actions. Leaving a brief moment of vulnerability. He withdrew his hand and didn't even realize he had flustered himself a little to the point that his cheeks were colored a light shade of pink. He tried to compose himself and aimed to press his finger against Percy's chest. ❝ You're studying with Ruki-kun tomorrow, right? Stay after. I'm practicing lines, so you can make yourself useful and be my scene partner. Consider it extra credit. You don't want to be on my bad side, Idiot-kun. Got it? ❞ He was as assertive as possible, trying to shake off whatever had just happened. ❝ I'm gonna make you eat your words. And when I do, you'll be at my mercy~ So, don't be late tomorrow. I may just wear something else cute. ❞ He winked, then gently gave him a little push. ❝ Bye Bye~ ❞ 」
The weirdest thing was that Percy didn’t even have that big of a problem with this guy. Did he like him? No. Did he want to be best friends forever? Absolutely not. But he also didn’t necessarily have much of a reason to dislike him . . . well, okay, correction: at first. He didn’t understand what changed or why, but sometime in the past several months, the two of them had gone from “We’re just two dudes who live on severely different planes of existence, so you stand on your plane, I’ll stand on mine” to “Your existence is inconvenient to me, so stop doing that in my presence.”
And, look, Percy was more or less used to that latter sort of vibe. He didn’t get kicked out of schools for literally no reason, and he’d basically become a celebrity of his own with the crazy stories people could tell about a “Percy Jackson” who used to be in their third grade class: the myth, the legend. But usually that stuff revolved around him actually causing a problem (on accident, to be clear . . . most of the time). With Kou . . . ? Yeah, it stumped Percy to this day.
Then again, he wasn’t making that great of a case for himself here, given the chance to present a reason. Just remember that Kou started it.
“Guess I just never committed your last name to memory,” he said. Half-true. Percy mainly just didn’t want to look like as big of an idiot as Kou thought, because yeah . . . he really hadn’t connected those dots. (And he guessed he couldn’t use “it’s a common last name” as an excuse, in their case.) That seemed as good a time as any to take his leave—expertly ignoring the blatant remark on his intelligence—if not for Kou performing a full 180 a few seconds later.
It started first with the look on his face, like he’d just been told his favorite restaurant was no longer serving his go-to dish. (Percy knew the feeling. Rough.) All that annoyance over Percy’s existence dissolved into shock, then to what looked like a long series of confusing events happening internally, or at least what Percy could glean his face must look like 99 percent of the time. Percy had made a step to dismiss himself, but before he got anywhere, a hand shot out. It managed to snag his sleeve for the most pitiful moment, and then Kou was reeling back like he’d been burned.
And, back to regularly scheduled programming, Percy was confused again.
He regretted saying the jab of a finger at his chest actually made him stagger a bit. Mostly because he was trying to catch up to what was going on, now, and that was essentially Kou inviting him to stay later tomorrow. (Forgive him if he’s wrong, but don't people who hate your existence typically not go out of their way to hang out with you?) Percy managed the eloquent, “Uh” at first. Then, “Pretty sure I’m already on your bad side, first of all.” Or he was about to be. “And, really, dude: you do not want me to be your scene partner, even just in practice. Trust me. That’s definitely gonna ruin your performance.” In other words: Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
the sudden mention of her brother, of luke, has annabeth teetering on scowling. a breath, head titling as thick brows mould together in an essence of disbelief. she searches for his eyes again, face growing slightly colder and more stone—like. " nobody mentioned * luke. " she states, arms soon crossing over her chest; their natural habitat. an air of silence creeps in before the girl sighs loudly.
nobody HAD to mention luke, because deep down, he was correct. the notion of not discussing this first is what drove her, but the idea of hurting him, despite everything he has done ... it didn't even cross her mind. his tone has shifted, accusatory and infuriating. wisdom's spawn swallows back harsher words, head shaking. " there is no conversation to be had. we're not ... killing him. or whatever you insinuated. so get the idea out of your skull. " her face is rigid and unreadable now, skin on her cheeks warmer from ... anger? or perhaps the proximity in which they stood, sharing oxygen.
something gnaws at the back of her cranium — that constant battle between her brain and her heart. she wants to tell him, to yell at him, to accuse HIM of simply looking for any excuse to get rid of *luke castellan ... but why? despite the obvious, annabeth knew there had to be something more. something deeper and raw that drove percy to hate the boy as he did — the boy annabeth chose percy over ...
" we'll find another way. it's not up for debate. "
He wishes he could say he regrets it. And, hey, maybe deep down, he does. Maybe that little swirl in his stomach when Annabeth looks at him like that is guilt of some kind. Maybe it’s shame. Maybe some part of him wishes he could just grin and bear it, that he could stomp down all of these messy feelings and just press forward. But the truth of the matter is that he can’t. And though he has absolutely no right to get upset when he’s the one who’s willingly brought him up, the traitor’s name falling from Annabeth’s mouth feels so much more offensive.
Percy tenses. It’s almost a flinch—like she’s struck him—but through some miracle under her piercing look that screams hurt, he maintains eye contact. For a fleeting second after her initial comment, he’s tempted to remark, I did, actually, as if he’s at all pleased about the conversation taking a turn he’s caused. He holds his tongue, waits for . . . what? Her defense? Her admonishment? Hell if he understands why he’s opened these floodgates, but here they are.
No turning back now.
Percy figures killing should’ve sounded harsh. He just as equally figures it should alarm him, that he should swiftly amend her take on his standpoint; somewhere beneath that hurricane of emotions stands a boy who’s thinking, Duh, I’m not going to kill a person! But he’s angry. He carries hurt of his own. He’s jealous. And it all buries him, blinds him in ways opposite to Annabeth’s affection for Luke blinding her (or at least what Percy would readily argue).
His next breath expels on a huff through his nose. “Yeah? I mean, it sounds like we’re debating right now.” Consciously or not, Percy mirrors her body language. (Makes him more formidable, surely.) He folds his arms, evens his weight out between his legs. “I never said anything about killing him—c’mon. I just mean we can’t keep letting him off the hook. He doesn’t want to talk”—I don’t want to talk—“and if we don’t do something about him specifically . . . ? People are just gonna keep getting hurt.”
The Golden Trio Percy Jackson and the Olympians, S1 & S2
@tidaltow (X)
「🍧Refusal: An action and word rarely associated with the idol. Given his beautiful appearance and social status, people usually gave in to his demands. He rarely, if ever, had to compel their fragile minds. Take one of his bothersome fans for a moment. If he told them their time on Valentine's belonged to him, they'd immediately agree. Not to mention that kissing his hand would be an honor. It wasn't often he gave his fans permission to touch him, despite how desperate they were to do so. Oftentimes, it felt like a power he had over them, until it wasn't. A reminder since his childhood that he was a product meant to be spoiled, regardless of his own feelings. The things that made the world go round weren't foreign to him and would make the average person squirm. Half of the reason he wore such a revealing sweater was to satisfy the cravings of his little fan club, offering them a little eye candy. The scars on his shoulders were so faded that the human eye would overlook them ( unless they pushed past his boundaries to be a mere inch near his skin ). The other half was to bother the idiot before him.
After all, he assumed Percy thought he was talentless, thanks to an untrustworthy outside source. The sole reason the two hit it off like cats and dogs. It's not like the idol had never experienced harsh criticism, since that was common in his career choice. But it mostly appeared on forums he could avert his eyes from. And when it happened on the streets, his fans would race to defend his honor. Over here, he expected none of this. It had surprised him a little that a group of girls even knew who he was, then dragged other girls into their newly formed club. He had gotten a break from the negativity until rumor had it that someone dissed his talents. It shouldn't have bothered him. Went in one ear and out the other. But seeing the supposed culprit had set him off. Awakened something inside of him. Perhaps the repressed anger he had felt from years of criticism finally surfaced, forcing the cap from a bottle that occasionally leaked on the verge of overflowing. Coming from a nobody who shouldn't even know him. And became the undeserving victim of his repression.
Yes, the last time Percy technically complimented what he wore had influenced this decision. Why? Because if the compliment held an ounce of truth to it, that Percy actually found it cute, it meant the idiot ( in his mind ) liked something about him. And the goal was to make him admit it and hopefully humiliate him in the process. Then hold it over his head. Even though that plan wouldn't remedy the talent comment, somehow, in his mind, it was still considered a win. Admittedly, he didn't expect any pushback on his invitation demands. At most, just an eye roll or something equal to that regarding the hand kiss. By now, he considered himself used to this guy's snarky comments, or so he thought.
Nah.
One word followed by the loud thud of his locker made the smirk he wore shift into a slightly surprised expression. Almost reminiscent of someone who had been told no for the first time in their life ( though not true for him since Ruki made him familiar with it ). He reluctantly met his eyes, almost in disbelief. He had been rejected? By this guy! He had taken the time to kindly invite him over for the evening, and even to allow him the pleasure of kissing his hand ( something he was now mad about despite never intending for the kiss to ever happen ), just to be told no! He gritted his teeth as his eyes shifted to a more piercing, ' how dare you ' stare. And clearly the assault of words wasn't over yet, as he had the audacity to, what? Whisper in his ear that he was loud? Or annoying? One hand balled into a trembling fist as he bit his bottom lip, a little too hard. He licked the emerging blood as the wound healed. Could he turn this to his favor? Play the damsel who had gotten a little too hurt and guilt the jerk? Or should he just slam him against a locker and tell him how he really feels?
So far, it was the latter. Not like anyone else was around right now anyway. He caught up with him and shoved him against the lockers. The piercing stare he had was even sharper, full of sheer ire, as their eyes would lock. His right hand harshly gripped the fabric of Percy's shirt beneath his neck as his goal was to keep him in place. Why did this guy get so under his skin? Why did he matter? He was just some guy at this stupid school that Klaus ordered them to monitor. All he wanted to do right now was punch him in his stupid face, maybe turn him into a meal, or just terrorize him. It shouldn't be too hard; he had done it before. Though that bitch had been far more deserving. And here he was pinning someone down like he had been all those years ago. Decades? Centuries? Wanting to hurt this innocent person would make him no better than them, wouldn't it?
He loosened his grip until the fabric left his skin. The anger had disappeared, leaving a vulnerable expression behind. His eyes were practically glued to the floor from the sheer disappointment he felt towards himself. It felt like he wanted to cry, yet the faucet barely turned. No tears even threatened to trickle. Yet his eyes were sorrowful when they finally drifted back to Percy. ❝ Why? Why do you think you're better than me?! ❞ But seconds after the questions left his lips, he had slammed his hand into one of the lockers, leaving a dent behind. It didn't hurt, but he held his hand anyway, as if to mimic a normal human's reaction to harming themself accidentally. Were those footsteps? Great... The last thing he needed was anyone seeing this. He didn't wait. This time, he started walking off before a crowd was drawn in. 」
Great job, hero. Percy Jackson and the Olympians, S02E06
“ Hi, idiot-kun~ ” He leaned against the locker, eyeing him up with a smirk. “It’s Valentine’s Day, and you obviously have no plans so you’ll give them to me~ Deal? Good.” He gave him no time to answer. “Go ahead and look, you like this one too, don’t you?” A fan had made him a pink sweater with a huge heart in the middle. It draped over his shoulders and covered most of his hands. “You might wanna keep this hush hush, if my fan club found out they’d rip you to shreds.” He lowly chuckled. He held his hand out like a princess. “Kiss it, and in return, I won’t tell~” He was teasing him. He didn’t expect him to. But he was being a menace. /kou
@tearstotherealms || aw he shouldn't have ;)
There came a time in every young man's life when he began to ask the real questions. The important questions.
Like: Why am I here? What's my purpose? What am I willing to put up with today? Why do I hear the word “idiot” and immediately know someone's talking to me?
Because there Percy was, minding his own business (as usual; wasn't that always how it began?), when the very sound of that familiar voice jostled him and sent his attention sidelong. He was still picking apart the humiliation of reacting to that nickname by the time Kou had said about a dozen other things (okay, maybe an overexaggeration). And then he noticed the sweater. Slowly registered what Kou meant by the comment about liking this one “too.”
Gods, he was still thinking about that one remark from ages ago, wasn't he?
Percy figured he had something to feel smug about here. He also figured that the smugness said more about himself than anything, so he decided he was done “figuring” things for now.
“Nah.” His locker closed with a definitive thud that felt like the period at the end of that refusal. “Most days, y'know, the whole 'getting ripped to shreds' thing I can handle. Just not really feeling it today.” Percy twisted to face Kou head-on, deliberately noting the extended hand with a mere flicker of his attention before he pinned Kou's gaze. “Besides—”
Now he moved around him, and he craned his neck to speak in the guy's ear. “We both know staying quiet isn't really your strong suit. But thanks.” A smile. A small shoulder check. And he walked away with a bounce in his step.
PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIANS | 2x06: NOBODY GETS THE FLEECE
i had no idea you’d be here … why didn’t you tell me? (from Tyson)
@altruprism || meme
“Yeah, uh . . . would've loved to, had I—y'know—had any idea myself.” Because, let's be real here, Percy's life was pretty much ending up in random locations at random (typically inconvenient) times for random (typically stupid) reasons—so what was one more?
Most of the time, he liked to blame it on some sort of prophecy. Or a god losing his favorite bathrobe and making it everyone else's problem. (Which didn't necessarily need to be mutually exclusive, but still.)
In this case . . . ? Well, guilty as charged: he had no one to blame but himself.
Because, see, people didn't usually come across Percy Jackson at the camp's forge. And definitely not late enough he was tip-toeing curfew (or, more importantly, giving Mr D an actual reason to punish him).
He stood in front of a table, hovering helplessly like he was staring down an equation instead of the dented breastplate actually there. When Tyson entered, Percy had only casted him a passing glance, but now he let out a sigh, took a step back, and cocked his head toward him. “What's up with you, though? I thought you were staying in for the night.”
My flaw isn’t just fatal to me.
PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIANS 2.05 ♆ We Check In To C.C.'s Spa & Resort
