i feel like this is what the fall to tartarus would be like

Juvia isn’t a stalker

This is an old, very frustrating argument for Gruvia fans that shouldn’t even exist anymore. This post also shouldn’t exist because I am refuting something Juvia didn’t actually do, but this is what it’s come down to, sadly. The bottom line is that Juvia can not redeem herself for an issue that Mashima-sensei, the author, doesn’t believe exists (aka the non-existent stalking).

I. The amount of times Juvia watched Gray and why

Juvia did not stalk Gray EVER, but she did hang in the background. He and the guild had been the enemy. If she had walked right up to Gray and his friends, there would have been a backlash. It’s natural that she was afraid because of the damage she helped inflict. Despite this, she formed an affinity to Gray and Fairy Tail which she carefully approached to the best of her ability.

As it also shows in her memories, Juvia had a well-established history of being shunned because of her rain which further led to her tentative approach. Additionally, given the rejection and shunning of the past, Juvia lacked the developmental opportunity to refine social engagement. There was no malicious intent in her actions. She was afraid of being rejected again, so she kept her distance. 

And in fact, Juvia and Gajeel’s presence in Fairy Tail DID cause a backlash. Laxus and the Raijinshuu did get angry when they found out two former Phantom Lord members who had attacked the guild were allowed to join.

Yet, both Juvia and Gajeel made up for their former transgressions already against the specific members they had targeted by protecting them. Juvia protected Gray from Simon, and Gajeel protected Levy from Laxus. That was supposed to be their redemption…IT WAS THEIR REDEMPTION. As stated in the first paragraph, in bold this time: Juvia can not redeem herself for an issue that Mashima-sensei, the author, doesn’t believe exists (aka the non-existent stalking). 

Ultimately, Juvia did approach Gray when he was by himself to ask what he thought about her joining Fairy Tail.  This was their first direct meeting after they met in Chapter 56. Indirect encounters include chapter 67 where she observed from afar and delivered a bento and chapter 75 where we see her watching Gray and the rest of team Natsu at the resort.

It was at this point that Juvia approached Gray properly when she finally caught him alone, and they went to get drinks together. It’s supported by the manga that Juvia joining Fairy Tail would have caused a backlash, as even Gray was wary of her joining because of the things that they did, but he personally did not mind her joining.  Juvia then spent the rest of the arc openly helping Gray and his friends in the Tower Of Heaven. 

At the end of the arc, when Erza asked after Juvia, Gray was the one who knew her name, and where she had gone. Once team Natsu returned to FT, Juvia became a member, and Gray was quite happy about it. After chapter 75 Juvia has never in the manga followed Gray without his knowledge again until chapter 416, where she came to apologize for what happened to Gray’s father. 

When Gray seemed dismayed that Juvia had followed him to his parents grave, she immediately apologized

In fact, Juvia has apologized a few times within the series when she thought she upset Gray, including in 413 Days when she apologized for fearing that she ruined Gray’s day of mourning. But, in fact, Gray ended up also apologizing to her, because he thought it was his fault. He profusely apologized to her in chapter 416 as well while sobbing in her arms.

II. Gray’s feelings

If Gray was so uncomfortable and disliked Juvia’s presence, the above scene would not have happened. He appreciates and is grateful for Juvia always being next to him, which by default completely annihilates the claim that he is disgusted by her. This is obvious because we see the change in their relationship throughout the course of the manga, on panel. I repeat, Gray likes the fact that Juvia is always by his side and wants her there.

Furthermore, Juvia’s comedic advances and Gray’s reactions (which have actually become softer/changed) are exaggerated on purpose. Japanese love this type of humor use in their mangas. It’s meant to be lighthearted, not give off an awful message regarding a pairing. As with many shounen, panel space is often limited for character interactions, so “dramatic” presentations are necessary for conveying points. Mashima-sensei has only ever portrayed Juvia’s love as a positive thing for both characters. Her love for Gray has saved not just Gray’s life, but also the lives of others on multiple occasions. 

While it’s true Mashima-sensei loves using Juvia for comic relief from time to time, it’s important to not let the jokes outweigh the serious moments. In reality, we are not supposed to put so much stock into comedy. Adding to the fact that Juvia’s fight with Meredy proved her love for Gray to be genuine, there’s another factor some people seem to miss.  

In the final chapter of the Tartarus arc, Juvia was about to give up on her love for Gray because she believed she did not have the right to love him anymore. She truly thought it was for his sake, and was prepared to be hated by Gray forever. An obsessive person or crazy stalker would never do this. But Juvia did, expecting this would ruin any chance she had with Gray, and was positive she would be loathed. However she knew confessing what she did was the right thing to do and came clean. Here, Mashima-sensei is showing the difference between an unhealthy obsessed individual and someone who’s love is selfless as they put the other person’s feelings above their own. Above all, Gray didn’t let Juvia give up on him. He embraced her, thanked her, and cried in her arms.

Chapter 499 speaks for itself, so I really don’t see the need to touch upon it other than the fact that the Japanese raw text confirms that Gray does see Juvia as more than a friend, aka, a love interest. As if his actions in the chapter and prior to weren’t enough. Double suicide in Japan is one of the most romantic acts of love based on samurai history.

III. The definition of a stalker

  • a person who harasses or persecutes someone with unwanted and obsessive attention.
  • a person who harasses another person, as a former lover, a famous person, etc., in an aggressive, often threatening and illegal manner.

Neither of the above definitions describes Juvia’s character. Juvia would be the last person in the world to harass or threaten Gray in any way. The two times she watched him were harmless and there were justified reasons behind them. Back to the definition; Juvia doesn’t need to do any of these things, because she is Gray’s friend, and at this point, so much more than that. She’s a partner, they go on missions together, socialize together, and have even lived together. 

Real cases for stalking often involve the stalker having control over their victim, sometimes employing fear in a desperate attempt to maintain control, which Juvia has NEVER done. Admiring someone from afar is not the same as stalking them, especially when you don’t have the courage to talk to them. That’s why Juvia quickly threw the bento in Gray’s hands without trying to be noticed. She wanted to do nice things for him, but couldn’t do them directly out of nervousness. That’s not what stalkers do. And of course, as stated above, Juvia was about to give up on Gray. Stalkers aren’t willing to give up their ties with the person.

Juvia does not need to “stalk” Gray. She stands proudly by his side with no reluctance from him.

And even more importantly Gray has never expressed any adversity to Juvia’s presence. If anything, he has expressed the opposite. Gray of his own accord hangs around her. And Gray had mentioned once in 338 that he would say no to the things he dislikes from then on. Yet he had never said no before, nor after that statement. In fact, he contradicted his own statement later on by eating the bread Juvia offered him, and holding her hand in comfort during the Tartarus arc.  

We also have to keep in mind Gray falls under the tsundere character trope, which means his actions often contradict his words, and as stated above, his adverse reactions are often played off comedically, because he is not being honest about his actual feelings. Juvia’s earnest feelings towards Gray usually cause the cool and collected character to lose his composure. That’s the joke. 

IV. Conclusion

Juvia is often labeled a stalker while we look past Gajeel crucifying Levy or Jellal trying to murder Erza. All of these things occurred at the beginning, but have ceased to be current habits. That’s character development. It’s one thing to not like a ship because of the dynamic. But it’s a double standard to hail the development of one ship and ignore another. People simply cannot move passed Juvia’s first impression, and that is sad.

Every pairing has its shtick, such as Natsu touching Lucy inappropriately and breaking into her house, and Levy hitting Gajeel often. Humor is completely subjective, that’s true, however it’s obvious what Mashima-sensei intends to fall under the umbrella of humor, and that absolutely includes Juvia’s antics and Gray’s reactions to them. Saying they aren’t meant to be funny is just being purposely oblivious and contrary. You don’t have to think it’s funny to know it’s meant as a joke. Gruvia gets condemned by the fandom the most when it comes to their particular aspect of humor, and that is unfair. 

This is a fictional world, they are fictional characters, and they do not have to meet real life standards. Many of the characters within Fairy Tail have quirks or perform actions that are not acceptable in reality. Fairy Tail itself is a fantasy manga. The world and the characters are exaggerated for the purpose of drama and comedy. This fantasy world is also based on Japanese humor and storytelling conventions, and ignoring this fact can lead to misunderstanding characters. 

Juvia has not watched Gray from a distance without his knowledge since before she joined Fairy Tail. That was at least 8-9 years ago in both our timeline and the manga time line (counting the 7 year time skip). No one in the Fairy Tail universe, nor Mashima-sensei, seem to think Juvia’s actions from her introduction need to be addressed or redeemed, because it is a non-issue that only certain parts of the fandom can’t let go of. She will not vocally apologize for a problem that doesn’t exist. 

Gray, especially, has gone so far passed his initial relationship and dynamic with Juvia. It’s sad that so many fans are concerned on Gray’s behalf, but never truly take Gray’s actual feelings or words into consideration. He cares for Juvia, he almost definitely loves Juvia romantically, and he is grateful she is by his side. He’s willing to go above and beyond, including sacrificing his life for her (twice) just to ensure her safety. Those are not the feelings of someone who is a victim of stalking. 

anonymous asked:

i know you're probably getting a lot of requests, but do you think you would be able to write about the weirdest greek myth ever, the birth of the Minotaur?

There are times when Hermes’s role as the messenger god weighs on him. Declaration of war have left his lips, the words he’s carried have ended whole countries and damned villages to a slow painful death. The secrets he carries tears at him, the horrors he’s had to face only so he could later tell of them, the warnings he repeats that are ignored and all he’s witnessed is for nothing, since it happens all over again in front of him.

There are times the news he brings that tears at him, eats at his soul like necrosis – the death of Kore, Poseidon destroying another seaside village, every whisper of Pandora, informing Ares of yet another war.

This –

– isn’t one of those times.


Aphrodite’s lovely face is slack with surprise. At her side Hephaestus rubs his chin and says, “That seems physically improbable.”

“How did she manage to not die?” Aphrodite demands, then says, “Wait, don’t tell me, I don’t want to know.”

Hermes grins, and doesn’t bother to hide the complete delight he’s taking in this, “But my lady,  it is my sacred duty to tell you these things. When Queen Pasiphae ensnared Daedalus’s help to be mounted by the bull–”

She gives him a cross look and is gone in a powerful gust of wind, and he has to grab onto the volcano wall to keep from falling over.

“That wasn’t very nice,” Hephaestus says, off hand. It’s clear he’s still thinking of the mechanics of a human-bull hybrid.

“I’ve been accused of being many things,” Hermes says cheerfully, “nice is not among them.”


Artemis lounges in her tent with one of her huntress’s face between her thighs, inexperienced but eager, and she so does love taking on new women.

“Sister!” Apollo shouts, appearing at her side and glaring down at her. “Have you lost your mind?”

Her huntress startles and freezes, unsure whether to leave or continue. Artemis rolls her hips up, and the girl ignores the appearance of the sun god and continues with her task.

“Not that I know of,” she says, tilting her head up so she can look at her brother without altering her position, “Why do you ask?”

“Poseidon cursed a mortal queen to fall in love with a bull, and she gave birth to a bull headed monster today,” he crosses his arms and glares.

She swallows the laugh that bubbles up, but she must not be entirely successful because he starts tapping his foot. “Well, isn’t that interesting. I’m not sure what it has to do with me.”

“Sister dear, Artemis, patron goddess of childbirth,” he says with syrup thick sweetness, “why on earth did you bless that child? There’s no way it could have been born without your help. It had to have been you.”

Her huntress pauses again, and Artemis will answer her questions later. She squeezes her thighs about her ears, and the girl resumes. “Oh come on, don’t give me that look. This is hysterical. People are going to be talking about this for years.”

He considers this for a long moment, then uncrosses his arms, “Okay, you have a point.”

“I know. Now if you don’t mind, I’m a little busy,” she gestures to the huntress between her legs.

Apollo snorts, “Get a few more girls in here, and maybe I’ll consider that busy.”

He slips away, but Artemis’s eyes narrow. That sounds like a challenge.

The girl replaces her mouth with a hand and asks, “Should I gather the other huntresses, lady goddess?”

“I like you,” Artemis says, and the girl laughs, cheeks flushed and lips shiny.


Hermes appears in the middle of the garden of Hades’s palace, and blinks twice.

The queen of the underworld is half naked and on top of Amphitrite, and several things fall in place at once. “Is this why you don’t get upset with Hades for his affair with Hecate?”

“There is no affair with Hecate, you’re just an indiscriminate gossip,” Persephone retorts. “And if they were having an affair, I wouldn’t have a problem with it, and it wouldn’t have anything to do with Amphitrite.”

“Oh,” he says. He feels rather derailed from his original point. “I came here to–”

“If this is about the minotaur, we already heard about it,” she says, “You can go now.”

They’ve already heard about it! “From who?!” This is the best news in centuries, and this person is ruining it.

“Aphrodite,” Amphitrite says, “She’s cross with you.”

Oh, this is war.


Ares feels a shiver go down his spine, and looks across the battle field. People are dying around him, but people are always dying around him. He doesn’t see anything particularly horrendous, so he doesn’t know who could have invoked him so powerfully that he felt it.

A young woman who had shared the last piece of sweet bread with him last night gets a spear shoved straight through her chest, and Ares decides he has more important things to worry about.


Athena is halfway through a tapestry that is to hang in Hestia’s rooms when Aphrodite appears next to her and says cheerfully, “Guess what Poseidon did?”

Normally Athena would fling anyone who dare to disturb her to the depths of Tartarus, but she’s always willing to talk of Poseidon’s misdeeds. “I’m listening.”

Hermes appears on her other side, glaring. “You trollop.”

“He made a queen fall in love with a bull, and she just had the kid. It’s got a bull head.” Her sister’s smile is positively vicious.

“I’ll make you suffer,” Hermes hisses, and slips away. Aphrodite follows, the sounds of her laughter echoing in the room.

Athena blinks, looking back to her loom, but is unable to concentrate.

Even she hadn’t seen that one coming.


Hera doesn’t get involved, she does not have opinions, as a rule if it doesn’t concern her then it doesn’t concern her.

She waits for her husband to leave, and tries not to worry about his mutterings about bulls, the queen-mother Europa, and how Pasiphae had the right idea of it. She steps into the throne room, and the fire burns cheerful and bright in the center of it.

She sits beside it, and no sooner has she done so than Hestia appears at her side. “You’ve heard then?”

“Hermes told me,” she rubs at her temples.

“Aphrodite got to me first,” Hestia says, and the goddess of the hearth seems entirely too cheerful, “I can say, of all the misdeeds Poseidon has wrought, this one is certainly … unique.”

She slumps and buries her face in her hands, “This whole family is mad, and we’re doomed to only become worse.”

Hestia laughs and puts an arm around her shoulder, “Come now, I think Hades is quite reasonable.”

Hera shifts enough only so that she can glare, “Hades chose to rule the dead and married Kore. He’s the maddest of us all.”

Hestia can’t refute that, so she starts finger combing Hera’s long, curly hair. Hera slumps back into her hands, and Hestia’s smile is soft as they sit there in silence, the only noise that of the crackling fire.


When Hephaestus returns to the volcano, it’s to his wife sitting in his throne with her arms crossed. “What did you do?” she asks.

“I just gave him a little suggestion, is all,” he says, and scoops Aphrodite into his arms so that he may reclaim his throne. She snuggles into his side, and if she’s trying to convince him that she’s mad at him, she’s doing a terrible job of it. “Daedalus has always been a very devout follower; he deserves a few good ideas.”

“He’s had enough ideas,” she says, because without his help the queen wouldn’t have found a way to consummate her love of the bull, “I don’t think he needs anymore.”

“Maybe,” Hephaestus murmurs, dragging his nose up her temple, “but imagine this – a labyrinth, bigger than any other, than this whole volcano.”

“That’s nice, dear,” Aphrodite says, and then proves to be distracting enough that Hephaestus puts his ideas aside.

At least for a little while.

gods and monsters series, part xii

read more from the gods and monsters series here

The Ultimate Percy Jackson Characterization Masterpost

Because I have been talking about this for months and a lot of other people have too, but it’s disjointed. I want to compile it, since his mischaracterization breaks my heart and makes me want to scream with rage. Please add if you think of something I didn’t! I’m also starting the tag “#percy jackson defense squad”, so feel free to start dumping your salt and rage and theories and ideas in there because I wanna hear them!

Trigger warnings for mentions of suicidal thoughts, sexual abuse, child abuse, and domestic violence.

Keep reading

Percy Jackson Headcanons
  •  He actually has a very angular face - High cheekbones, narrow face, straight nose. He gets his bone structure from his mother, but where Sally had a softness to all of her features, he gets Poseidon’s natural brooding and regal sharpness. It’s another factor that makes his demeanor a bit intimidating and what makes people peg him as a trouble maker. and so so attractive
  • When he was younger, he used to be left handed. But during the sporadic period when he was rapidly getting kicked out of school and learning how to write, he was placed through many schools that had the old philosophy that being left handed was wrong and forced him to write with his right hand. In the end, it ends up helping him because he learned how to use both hands equally well, becoming ambidextrous, thus also helping his sword fighting.
  • When Sally married Gabe, Percy never told Sally of the abuse he was getting because he thought that if Gabe took out all of his frustrations on him, then there would be nothing left for his mother to receive and was afraid of what Gabe would do.
  • After the Sea of Monsters but before the Battle of the Labyrinth Percy had a mouthful of braces. Annabeth took as many pictures as she could at the time and taped them on the wall of the big house. He tore down all he could find but legend has it, you can still find one or two miraculously appearing up there.
  • His middle name is Dylann, pronounced Die-lin, which means ‘son of the sea.’ Subtlety is not Sally’s specialty and she cannot seem to give him names that are easily pronounced. Teacher’s sigh on the first day of school when they get to his name on their clipboard.
  • Percy is the best get away driver. Paul took him out on his first driving lesson and it was something that came natural to him. And when he was homeless for that period in Son of Neptune and relied on stealing cars he got really good at getting away quickly and efficiently. Especially when he stole that police cruiser.
  • Percy has scars on the insides of his elbows and forearms that almost look like a bad case of chicken pox scars. They’re actually cigarette burns from Gabe. Annabeth, Sally, Grover, are the only ones who know where they’re from.
  • Percy’s clothing is badly torn up. Some is the result of monster fighting, and some is from the constant wear and tear because he refuses to get rid of old clothing, but a lot of it is from skateboarding accidents. He’s actually pretty decent at skateboarding but he’s also pretty decent at falling off of it too.
  • Percy, Piper, and Rachel go skateboarding together sometimes.
  • Before Tartarus, Percy’s eyes were a gentle, warm green, like the middle of a lazy ocean you could get lost in. But after Tartarus they’re fiercer, darker, like a wave in a storm about to drag you to the bottom of the sea.
  • Percy’s favorite type of music is rock. He wanted to learn electric guitar but there was never money he was younger, now he’s too busy with monsters to have the time.
  • Percy is a naturally good surfer, it comes freakishly natural just like anything else that has to do with the ocean. Piper and he go surfing together.
  • When he’s fifteen he is around 5′11″ but he gets in a few more growth spurts before everything is said and done and ends up being just above 6′2″ and parallel to Jason. He loves playfully holding things out of Annabeth’s reach. She punches him when he does that of course.
  • He has a lean build with prominent definition. He has very little body fat and most of his weight comes from his muscles. He has the perfect swimmer body, lithe and agile.  cinnamony roll goodness
  • His hair is black like a raven’s wings and is always windswept and unruly as if he’s always running a hand through it  or like bed hair if you know what I mean
  • He, unlike the other two greek kids of the big three, doesn’t have any freckles or moles of any kind. His mother has very clear skin and het gets it from her just the same, except with the tanner tone of Poseidon.
  • He’s on Goode High’s swim team. He’s much faster than everyone even without his powers and he can’t tell if it’s just a son of Poseidon thing or if he’s actually good. Paul and Sally don’t mind because he knows that’s the only way Percy will get a scholarship with his grades, reputation, and attendance records.
  • Percy is known as the weird kid in school. He has weird scars, disappears for months at a time, and has an off putting demeanor. He doesn’t talk to many people and only does when they talk to him first.
  • His nervous ticks include running his hands through or tugging on his hair, and tapping or playing with Anaklumos in pen form.
  • He walks quietly on his feet, this comes from many different things - Being silent so Gabe couldn’t hear him, trying to sneak past monsters, his training from Lupa, and the period of time he spent running, hiding, and stealing in Son of Neptune.
  • He absolutely sucks at growing facial hair. It grows in in uneven patches and it disappoints him to no end. The guys make fun of him to no end during no shave November.
  • He knows that people underestimate him, he knows that people think of him as a goofball, and he knows that people dismiss him as stupid. Now he uses that to his defense. After torturing the goddess of Misery he can feel that darkness growing in him and his powers growing more, so he spends the entirety of Boo trying to convince everyone he’s fine. He jokes, he smiles, he says stupid things. And for the most part it works. Jason, Leo, and Piper believe it easily, although Hazel and Frank are harder to convince. But he hates the knowing look in Annabeth’s eyes that barely hide that smallest look of fear.
  • After Tartraus he figures out all the things he can do. That he control the blood pumping through someone’s veins. That he can stop someone’s heart stop with the clench of his fingers. That he can make someone die in an explosion of red. The idea terrifies him as much as it exhilarates him.
  • He tries to keep his rapidly growing powers a secret which fails of course, because whenever he has a particularly bad nightmare the ground shakes. That now when he holds Annabeth’s hand he can feel the blood pulsing thickly beneath her skin, gravitating towards him as if he’s a magnet.
  • He trains with Chiron to help find control for several months. 
  • He finds unexpected support from Nico di Angelo, who had gone through a similar thing after Tartarus.
  • He’s angrier often and snaps more easily. He purchases a punching bag and it helps him work through his aggression.
  • Percy and Annabeth go to Montauk for two weeks after the war is over, and he breaks down. Annabeth helps him through everything, saying how he can’t keep everything inside all the time.
  • Percy learns to control the darkness in him, and learns that while it may never go away, he will not be controlled by it.
Time for a Feels Trip

Nico, Age 10:

Bianca sat with [the Hunters], leaving her little brother to hang out in the front with us, which seemed cold to me, but Nico didn’t seem to mind.

“This is so cool!” Nico said, jumping up and down in the driver’s seat. “Is this really the sun? I thought Helios and Selene were the sun and moon gods. How come sometimes it’s them and sometimes it’s you and Artemis?”

-Rick Riordan, The Titan’s Curse

Nico, Age 11:

“I am the son of Hades,” Nico insisted. “Be gone!”

Minos laughed. “You have no power over me. I am the lord of spirits! The ghost king!”

“No.” Nico drew his sword. “I am.”

He stabbed his black blade into the floor, and it cleaved through the stone like butter.

“Never!” Minos’s form rippled. “I will not—” The ground rumbled. The windows cracked and shattered to pieces, letting in a blast of fresh air. A fissure opened in the stone floor of the workshop, and Minos and all his spirits were sucked into the void with a horrible wail.

-Rick Riordan, The Battle of the Labyrinth

Nico, Age 12:

“Son of Hades.” Kronos spit on the ground. “Do you love death so much you wish to experience it?”

“Your death,” Nico said, “would be great for me.”

“I’m immortal, you fool! I have escaped Tartarus. You have no business here, and no chance to live.”

Nico drew his sword—three feet of wicked sharp Stygian iron, black as a nightmare. “I don’t agree.”

The ground rumbled. Cracks appeared in the road, the sidewalks, the sides of the buildings. Skeletal hands grasped the air as the dead clawed their way into the world of the living. There were thousands of them, and as they emerged, the Titan’s monsters got jumpy and started to back up.

-Rick Riordan, The Last Olympian

Nico, Age 13:

Hazel felt like she’d just introduced two nuclear bombs. Now she was waiting to see which one exploded first.

Until that morning, her brother Nico had been the most powerful demigod she knew. The others at Camp Jupiter saw him as a traveling oddball, about as harmless as the fauns. Hazel knew better. She hadn’t grown up with Nico, hadn’t even known him very long. But she knew Nico was more dangerous than Reyna, or Octavian, or maybe even Jason.

-Rick Riordan, The Son of Neptune

Nico, Age 14:

Nico wasn’t exactly a sunshine person, but for once he welcomed the warmth. It made him feel more substantial – anchored to the mortal world. With every shadow-jump, coming back got harder and harder. Even in broad daylight his hand passed through solid objects. His belt and sword kept falling around his ankles for no apparent reason. Once, when he wasn’t looking where he was going, he walked straight through a tree.

Nico remembered something Jason Grace had told him in the palace of Notus: Maybe it’s time you come out of the shadows.

If only I could, he thought. For the first time in his life, he had begun to fear the dark, because he might melt into it permanently.

-Rick Riordan, The Blood of Olympus

Nico, Age 15:

“Nico,” I said at last, “shouldn’t you be sitting at the Hades table?”

He shrugged. “Technically, yes. But if I sit alone at my table, strange things happen. Cracks open in the floor. Zombies crawl out and start roaming around. It’s a mood disorder. I can’t control it. That’s what I told Chiron.”

“And is it true?” I asked.

Nico smiled thinly. “I have a note from my doctor.”

Will raised his hand. “I’m his doctor.”

“Chiron decided it wasn’t worth arguing about,” Nico said. “As long as I sit at a table with other people, like…oh, these guys for instance…the zombies stay away. Everybody’s happier.”

Will nodded serenely. “It’s the strangest thing. Not that Nico would ever misuse his powers to get what he wants.”

“Of course not,” Nico agreed.

-Rick Riordan, The Hidden Oracle

Sorry this took so long to actually get on here…I’d been typing…too much…hahaha…right so, HIGHLIGHTS! Just a reminder that what I saw was the first PREVIEW and I already know they’ve made some script changes, so until opening night on April 4th things will still be changing! Anyway here are my highlights (Re: Lauren trying not to just type out the entire musical.)

Keep reading

Valdangelo Headcanons

Making this because I love all of you who helped me get to about 100 followers!

Also I’m Valdangelo trash.


  • they got together after about - oh I dunno - TEN THOUSAND CENTURIES
  • jk just about seven years
  • they’re huge nerds
  • they play mythomagic together and go against each other in video games - especially in overwatch
  • and they talk about superheroes - 90% of the time about who would win: batman vs iron man
  • its so cute, and everyone teases them about it
  • don’t forget how they’re small and scrawny
  • you’ll just see lil’ leo sleepin in nico’s lap while nico looks like he’s cuddling a teddy bear and you’ll start squealing
  • but they’re also REALLY scary
  • like, oh ma gawd, you piss em off, it’s like awakening Satan from his eternal slumber
  • fucking hell will reign down and all you can do is run
  • nico can control the dead and literally becomes shadows and leo can summon fire and his intellect is smarter than most grown-ups - the tag team that can fucking murder you
  • gay and bi jokes
  • bi, nico!” “nice to see you togay too, valdez”
  • they listen to emo music 24/7
  • like nico’s always hearing My Chemical Romance and Leo is in love with Fall Out Boy
  • but they are little when compared to the best - Panic! at the Disco
  • oh and they also watch some strange shit
  • not that kind of strange shit - get your mind outta the gutter - I’m talking about mystery/creepy/horror shit
  • like they are legit pining for destiel
  • also they are IN LOVE WITH VOLTRON
  • most of the camp make jokes about how klance is the upgraded version of them and theyre like “wait? we’re a tv trope now???”
  • they love dancing and singing together
  • like at the campfire nico is strumming the guitar and singing ed sheeran songs while leo is dancing like a fucking god and it’s beautiful
  • death jokes
  • lots of unhealthy death jokes
  • “nico, you look like death.” “I AM DEATH”
  • “leo, if you go in there, you’ll die!” “eh, been there, done that”
  • they usually make art together - leo with machines and nico with painting/sketches
  • everyone’s so jelly of their skills because that is not humanly possible wtf
  • nico gets along with hephaestus well because theyre both lonely souls and kinda understand each other
  • leo at first yells at hades because “WHY THE FUCK HAVE YOU NEVER HELPED YOUR SON YOU UNGRATEFUL-” 
  • and hades immediately likes him because leo really loves nico and wants to protect him and he’s a feisty little child
  • so he‘s chill with them
  • plus leo makes a lot of puns that nico hates and hades LOVES puns so…
  • persephone takes a lot of liking to leo
  • one time she kidnapped him for a kind of bonding time and nico got so jelly he went down to the underworld and kidnapped leo back
  • sadly leo refused to take off his flower crown
  • nico’s the dominant one in the relationship
  • no comment
  • they both protect hazel with their FUCKING LIVES; you mess with her you be dealing with two badass gremlins
  • but lets move to some angsty shit
  • they talk about everything together - what projects leo’s doing, what happened on a quest nico was given from his dad, so and so
  • they never keep a secret from each other
  • but from time to time bad memories come up and they talk to each other about it
  • dreams, Maria and Bianca, Esperanza, their times in Tartarus (WHAT WOULD HAPPEN IF LEO SACRIFICED HIMSELF AND ENDED UP IN TARTARUS FUCK ME UP HOLY SHIT), and everything that has affected them during their horrible lives
  • they cry a lot but mostly just when they let it all out to each other
  • they hug and kiss and maybe have some comfort sex to help each other feel better
  • it’s really sweet
  • the two of them try their best to support one another
  • they whisper sweet nothings to each at night, know when to give each other some space, after they fight they both try to apologize no matter who was at fault, but they mostly just talk about…everything
  • and after several years of being together, nico proposes to leo on the mast of the former Argo ||, the ship that brought them together
  • no pun intended

So, here are my Valdangelo headcanons.

Thank you! I love you all!

Not Alone (fReyder)

I have a feeling this was meant to be a happy prompt, but my finger slipped and something sad happened.

Sara found Reyes in Tartarus, sprawled out atop his couch. For a moment, all he did was stare at her. His brow furrowed. His eyes narrowed.

But then they widened again, a slow grin spreading over his lips. “Sara!” He tried to stand up - and knocked over an empty whiskey bottle. It shattered on the floor, scattering glass in all directions. “Shit.”

Sara wasn’t sure how to respond. She picked her way over to him, carefully sidestepping the glinting shards. “You okay?”

His grin returned in full force. “Better than okay,” he murmured as she joined him on the couch. His hands settled on her hips, tugging insistently. “I wasn’t expecting company.”

“Clearly,” Sara muttered. She wasn’t annoyed - just perplexed. “Are you drunk?”

“I’ll admit, I have been drinking.” The pressure on her hips didn’t relent until she clambered onto his lap, knees braced on either side of him. His hand skimmed up to the back of her neck, pulling her in for a kiss. He whispered his next words into her lips. “But I’m not drunk.”

Sara chuckled. “Right. What happened to the three-drink maximum?”

He pulled back slightly, mouth curving in a pout. “I’m the king of Kadara,” he told her. “I can drink as much as I want.”

“Uh huh.” Sara reached up to drag her thumb along his lip, smiling at the way it made him shiver. “I’m not saying you can’t, baby…”


“But your head is going to hurt in the morning.”

Reyes mumbled something into her fingertips that sounded like I don’t care. He gestured vaguely at the crate he referred to as his liquor cabinet. “Can I offer you a drink?”

“Nah. Someone’s got to keep a clear head.” Sara gave her hips a little wriggle. “Someone’s got to take care of you.”

“There’s no need for a designated driver, Sara.” He sucked one of her fingertips into his mouth, making her swear under her breath.

“Sure,” she said. She was well aware that her voice was a little shaky. “But a man like you needs a steady hand.”

That made him chuckle - but something about this didn’t feel right.


He nudged her fingers aside with his nose, craning forward to kiss her collarbone instead. “Mmhmm?”

“Did you do all this drinking alone?”

He shrugged, nipping gently at her throat. “Some of it. Why?”

“I don’t know -” She broke off when his teeth bit deep enough to hurt. “Hey.”

“Sorry.” He soothed the bite with the flat of his tongue, then sucked the tender skin into his mouth.

“You’re killing me here, Reyes.”

He grinned into her neck. “Would you like me to stop?”

“I just -” She hooked one arm around his shoulders. Her other hand trailed gently up his spine, fingertips sliding through the hair at the nape of his neck. “I don’t want to think about you drinking alone.”

For a moment, Reyes froze - but then he sighed softly. “Safer than drinking not alone.”

Sara slid sideways off his lap, settling down backwards so she was lying almost flat. She coaxed him into following with a finger hooked into his collar - and although he groaned gently, he obeyed. He nestled in beside her, cheek resting on her chest. Sara’s fingers went back to his nape. Little sighs spilled from his throat as they brushed over his skin.

“Missed you,” Reyes mumbled.

“You too,” Sara whispered. She let her head fall back so she could stare at the ceiling. If she closed her eyes, the universe narrowed down to two pleasant sensations; his weight along her body and his warmth close by her side.

“Love it when you visit,” Reyes went on. His words were slightly slurred. His breathing was beginning to slow. “Not -” he paused to yawn. “Not just the sex, although that is amazing. Just…just love you, Sara.”

Sara’s heart was so full it was about to block her airways. She wanted to respond - but she didn’t want to cut him off.

“Miss you all the time,” he sighed. “Keep… keep wondering when you’ll stay for good.”

Sara’s eyes were stinging. Her lungs felt full of fire - quickly smothered; tightly held. “Soon,” she whispered. She pressed a kiss into his hair. “Soon.”

Long moments passed in silence. Reyes fell asleep in stages, his breath tickling her neck. Sara held him all the while, fingers stroking through his hair; whispering promises to the stillness as slumber swept over him. She wasn’t tired in the slightest, but she didn’t want to move. Her last promise was for him - but it was for her, as well.


Impossible Year

32,032 words
amazing art by @hamabee 

an ode to my love for annabeth chase
inspired by the song impossible year by panic! at the disco

shout out to @percyyoulittleshit and @falloutside for organising the @pjohoobigbang and inspiring me to write my longest one-off fic to date, and thanks to @spooky-son-of-rome for betaing, and to @percyyoulittleshit and @lililibird for being honorary betas and fab cheerleaders, i love you all

and thanks to @hamabee. hannah, i honestly couldn’t have done this without you. from the very idea of it through to individual scenes and just general support, none of this would have happened without you. your art is absolutely incredible, your talent is endlessly inspiring and i can’t thank you enough for coming on this months-long journey with annabeth and i. i love you.

It starts and ends with this: “Together.”

Annabeth stares at Percy, and Percy stares at Annabeth.

They’re searching for something that they aren’t even sure exists anymore. They’re so unrecognisable now that they’ve started to forget who they were, before.

She feels his fingers twitch in hers, registers that she’s probably holding his hands too tightly but acknowledges that she doesn’t want to let go just yet. She’s sitting in his lap, their hands clasped between them, and both of them are crying.

She knows that he doesn’t want to let go yet, either. Because once they let go, it’s done. They are done.

Annabeth takes a deep breath, one that rattles her very bones, feels her heart beating wildly in her chest, feels her stomach churning and her mouth going dry. She licks her lips.

Percy watches, and she thinks about kissing him. You know, to say goodbye.

Instead, she closes her eyes. She counts to ten, and then she tells herself to be brave. She opens her eyes.

Gods, he looks as sad as she feels.

Which is part of the problem - maybe the whole problem, actually. Together was what had gotten them through Tartarus, what had given them the strength to claw their way out and then to keep on fighting through everything that had come after.

But they’re out, now, back at camp and physically safe and yet all they seem to do is keep dragging each other back down there.


“Not anymore.”

Keep reading

this isn’t a false alarm

pairing: percabeth (it lowkey doesn’t matter tho js)

rating: general audiences

warning: angst


Annabeth receives a gift in the mail.

It wasn’t what she was expecting.

um i thought of this idea @ 3am while i was fighting off exhaustion and it scared the life out of me, so i had to write it; i hope i did the concept justice

read on AO3

Keep reading

TWILIGHT ZONE (an slbp fic featuring the convulated inner workings of the tortured mind of Fuma Kotaro.)



 (SETTING: Fuma Kotaro is about to meet his end by the hand of Saizo when an unexpected party intervenes. This ficlet is a meagre attempt to capture the few moments encompessing this incident. Based on the Fuma Kotaro Ninja ES)


One word 

One word I said


It came out as a breath, gushing from my mouth, formed between two lungs like a parayer, sighed out in relief, In worship, In dispair.

 A multitude of conflicting emotions. A cesspool of swirling indecision.As always I am a mess, a disgrace.

Stars collide,planets spin off kilter ,a supernova prepares to meet its’ incendiary demise and I wait for the inevitable to come to pass.

I gaze worshipully at the grim beauty of my beloved, the Prince of Darkness, the Grim reaper. Aaah! What wonderful luck!! The ruler of Tartarus has come to usher me to the underworld himself. I sigh like a love lorn damsel, enchanted by his ruby red gaze. Dull embers burn in his eyes, glimmering with  blood lust . It cuts me to ribbons and i shudder in ecstacy. Once again i stand enraptured by his sweet cruelty.

 My dark prince  encompasses the  entire world for me. The sum total of the void i wished to exist in.i bow my head in submission to my beloved, offering my neck to his blade.my heart rejoices in the knowledge that this filthy existence would meet it’s end by his blessed bloody  hand.

No dawn no day , no dusk no night, i am always in this twilight , a cursed creature of the twilight zone.

 I exist in a greyscale, neither black nor white. Light or dark, no one claims me as it’s own. Am i forever doomed to be but a shade? An orphan of the shadows.

I wish to join my beloved in eternal darkness. Oh how presumptious for a pitiful creature Iike me!! I wonder at my own boldness. I wish to be a son of Nyx- the eternal goddess of perpetual and frightening night. And here to usher me to Tartarus is my own Demos. 

Such mysterious beauty my beloved has. He holds me spell bound in his dark majesty. The grim reaper.  The eternal black hole at the centre of my universe. Absorbing all light. Casting no shadows. Drawing all who pass him into his orbit of destruction . I too wish to collapse into him . Be one with him.

A treacherous thought whispers through my mind, echoing  with doubt,  telling me that this incessant desire to die by my beloveds’ hand  is infact a glorified plea for release, not a wish to achieve nirvana as i claim. A release From this mortal body that binds me to this plain of existence. 

I wish to simply sieze existing. 

I wish to Erase all evidence of the filth that i am. 

A waste of space. An afterthought of someone’s half formed wish come into unwanted existence. 

Then! Oh maybe then! Just maybe!  These blood curdling screams might stop. This constant throbbing pain in my head might end. It’s like a volcano erupting in my skull, spewing poisonous lava and sulphurous gases, making it so hard….oh so hard to breath. Mocking voices cutting through me like molten lead poured into my ears; Telling me of my worthlessness,  urging me to kill, to make myself worth existing . It gets better when the blood flows through my hands, when i feel a life slip by , it gets better for a while. Just a little while. 

I am Hateful Unwanted Unacceptable. Won’t darkness personified accept me? I am a ninja doomed to be unaccepted by my own. Forever an outsider. 

Aah!! Beloved!! 

my soul calls out to my prince to end  this now. I can take no more. In the final hours of my existence i am grateful to meet my end by the grim reaper himself. Finally accepted, embraced into the blessed cold arms of the dark. A sinner like me, who has no chance of forgiveness or retribution. Will i no longer be in twilight? I relax myself , take a deep breath and feel myself drowning. My lungs begin to fill with salt water, the voices a painful memory of the past, the pain about to end . The orchestra of my life reaches its truimphant mournful peak.

I hear a distant voice, stopping my execution,  pleading for my life.i remember whom it belongs to. Its a glimmering memory in the grey of my existence,  so vivid, so bright; yet strangely distant. A memory made in another life time, or a few moments of existence taken from someone else’s life, loaned memories of respite.

Memories made In another chasm of space, a separate dimension of time.

Memories made with the creature of light i had taken to haunt recently. Like a moth drawn to a flame i was pulled in by her strange gravity. Spurred by her kindness i stalked her.trying to puzzle out why she would be kind to filth like me.

 I am not meant to be near a creature of light. So pure, so perfect. I will be exorcised in the presence of her grace.Will i burn and turn into ashes  under her incandescent gaze? I cannot help but wonder.

I never knew day light could be so violent. Eviscerating. Incendiary.  Luminiscent.

No  dawn no day i am a creature of twilight. With nowhere to escape.

Saizos’ blade is stopped by my Goddess.My prince , my saviour, why won’t you put an end to my pain? this constant blood letting is in vain.My pleas for mercy reach a grotesque height. Why would your hand be stayed by a creature of the light? By this goddess who barely knows me?  

I attempt to hide myself within myself.i curl around my body like a wounded animal. Sorry attempts at making myself invisible. 

My prince and my goddess pull me in seperate directions.where should i go? Why do i suddenly wish to exist in light?

I scream and i scream and then  i scream some more, till i have nothing left in me anymore. Still i scream hoarsely writhing in pain. 

When i come to, I am being held in her arms, cradled by her gentle embrace. The world lurches spinning out of control. Galaxies collide . Supernovas die and my soul is set on fire that cannot be seen by any mortal eye. Gentle fingers card through my hair, setting my head ablaze. Sweet voice cooing at me, i anticipate molten lead. What fresh dimension of hell will i be introduced to now?

From deep within the recesses of my mind a cruel memory mocks me…

she said 
my beloved son

and then eviscerated me with her whip 

because I love you 
she said.

Kill or you are worth nothing.

She hit me and told me i was loved. 

It was ultraviolence. 

It was the only love i knew.

I stiffle my sobs by biting my lips so hard they bleed. Gingerly, i taste the rusted iron running in my veins . Not you, not you too…my gentle goddess. I start rocking and repeating to myself like a sacred mantra, my lifeline keeping me from my descent into utter insanity. Not you too.  I prayed desperately, urgently . For some reason I do not want her to hate me or hit me.

I wait for the whip that never hits me. I squeeze  my eyes hard ,desperately trying to keep the tears from spilling out. 

Pitiful,pitiable ,ugly what a filthy dog i am,  not fit to sully my prince or goddess. 

My body is wrecked by my  ugly shuddering sobs.I squeeze my eyes harder and wait for the slap that never hits my cheek.

She is Celine the goddess of moonlight so calm and peaceful. Blessed by Iris the goddess of dawn, harbinger of truth and beauty . Her gentle light envelops me.

I never knew day light could bring so much peace.

A gentle kiss falls on my brow .

I open my eyes to her incendiary luminiscence, half afraid of being blinded.

One word she says
One word only
My whole world stills 


One word
she repeats


She says

And my lungs forget to form prayers.

 (i derped guys @jemchew @bmp-slbp-matchup tagging u cuz u love this idiot. @frywen-babbles need ur critique @small-and-nerdy @nijigendiaries @sengokugenkigirl @voltageotomehell @quincette @eroticincubi @suzunesays @nitelotus @uxoremmikael , @tokyun check it out) 

hypocrisy in the air; a tire fire verse fic

title: hypocrisy in the air

pairing: unfulfilled percabeth, references to luke/annabeth, a hint of luke/percy, the barest whisper of percy/nico

rating: T - sexual references, canon level violence

word count: 1,417 words of manfight

premise: Luke survives the Battle of Manhattan. Percy and Annabeth intercede on his behalf despite a Complication of Feelings, and the gods agree to let him live on the condition that he remains tied to Camp Halfblood. Due to another Complication of Feelings, Percy and Annabeth are not together. 

rest of the verse can be found here or read on ao3

summary: where last we left off, Annabeth had just boned Luke (because that’s definitely how you stop yourself from thinking about your person), and Percy had just happened upon her leaving Luke’s house.

This is approximately 30% of the emotional fallout from that

The first thing Percy thinks when he sees Annabeth standing in Luke Castellan’s doorway is, oh. Because her hair is rumpled and falling over her face, and her shirt is like three sizes too big and slipping off one shoulder, and she looks relaxed in a way he can’t quite put his finger on, but hasn’t seen from her in too long.

She’s gorgeous, some part of him sighs wistfully, as the rest of him realises that she’s staring at him in horror, and starts to put the pieces together in a different fashion.

“Morning Percy,” she mumbles, ducking her head as she clutters down the stairs. Their shoulders brush when she passes him, and he thinks that she almost stops, half-turning towards him.

But then she’s gone and he’s left staring after her back and wondering what the fuck just happened.

You’re being paranoid, his brain supplies helpfully. There’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for all of this, you just haven’t had enough breakfast to figure it out yet.

“Sorry,” a voice says from behind him. “Would’ve warned you I had company, but you know Iris. She’s not exactly a fan of me these days.”

“Who is?” Percy snaps, resolving to put the whole incident out of his head. He’s not Annabeth’s keeper, he doesn’t control where she - okay, Luke isn’t wearing a shirt, and even from this distance Percy can see the red marks on his shoulder.

Keep reading


I wrote this a while back for the @pjohoominibang and they were nice enough to post it for me but, in lieu of reaching 900 followers, I thought I’d finally post it here. Check out the art that @katslittlestar did for this! I hope you enjoy! I did some editing. I know someone had pointed out a few mistakes. 


In his dream, Percy was twelve again. He was standing just outside his front door, about to face his mother’s look of disappointment as she’d say, Another school? Worst of all there was Gabe, bound to mock him. The stench of his cigar drifted through the door and Percy got the sudden urge to kick something. Why was his mother with him? Because of you, a voice seemed to remind him.

Finally, he came in, dragging his bag behind him. “You’re not supposed to be here,” Gabe told him. Percy ignored him and his friends seated at the poker table. 

 "Hey!“ His voice grew louder, “I’m talking to you!”

 Percy clenched his fists and lied to himself, I’m stopping myself from hurting him. In reality, he was scared. He had felt his stepfather’s anger before. He shouted again, ignoring what the other two dirtbags at his poker table were saying. Suddenly, Gabe was there, right next to Percy. The boy had to look up to meet those beady little eyes that always seem to be suspicious of something.

 "I’ve got no cash,“ he heard himself say, and it was true, he kept digging and digging into his pockets. Although he found nothing, he could’ve sworn he had a five.

 "Don’t lie to me, boy,” Gabe warned. He was so close now that his stench had momentarily drowned out all of Percy’s other thoughts, save the money. He kept digging through his pockets, becoming more and more desperate with each passing second.

 Gabe could always sniff the money out of you, and the older man could’ve sworn he’s smelled something on the boy. He was losing his patience too. Percy knew that look. He was a skinny kid compared to this tall, stinking man. 

 "You must’ve gotten a cab to get here,“ his stepfather stated, “paid him fifteen for the ride with a twenty.” That’s what scared Percy the most, Gabe was smart when it came to these kinds of things. “That leaves you with a five.”

 He kept digging but his pockets seemed to shrink, mocking him. “I’ve got n-”

 He only felt the blow after he stopped seeing stars. Then, all Percy felt was rage. He picked himself off of the floor and spotted Gabe a few feet away, laughing. He was about to run to him when the world gave away beneath him. 

Suddenly he wasn’t at his old apartment anymore. 

Keep reading

The Fisher’s Lure

I am branching out into some Fem Ryder/Reyes fic. And, because I am an idiot, I had to write a big multi-chapter fic first. 

Sara struggles with the revelation of Reyes’ secret identity. When a quick visit to Tartarus turns into a turian’s chance at revenge, her own hurt feelings become the least of her worries.

Chapter 1: Oblivion

It was raining on Kadara.

Sara had never seen it rain in the port before. It wasn’t an improvement. Pooling water revealed flaws in construction that could be overlooked on a sunny day, and though the rain carried away the ever-present smell of engine fumes and unwashed outlaws, Sara knew it would all come back the moment the downpour stopped. In short, it made everything seem even more hopeless than it already did.

And that was saying a lot.

She tried to avoid the worst of the rain, but the port’s entire population seemed to have crammed themselves into the few covered areas near the docks. Sara had to shove her way through the crowds, trying not to elbow anyone in the ribs too hard. She was angry - and hurt, too - but that wasn’t the fault of the damp and smelly spacers. She passed Cora at the elevator to the slums, and the huntress smiled warmly.

“We heading out, Pathfinder?”

Sara shook her head violently, trying to shake the water out of her hair. “Nah, you stay here. I’m heading to Tartarus, but I won’t be long.”

Cora’s face hardened. “He still not answering your emails?”


It was tempting to say a lot more than that; to wallow in the righteous anger and sympathetic fury that only a friend like Cora could offer - but even bitching to her friends couldn’t heal this particular hurt. It went deep, this one. It stung.

Vetra had called him a scumbag and a liar. Jaal had agreed that the description was accurate. Peebee had gone with ‘two-faced son of a bitch’, and Liam had bought Sara a beer. Several beers.

Reyes had probably never paid for a drink in his life.

“I hope you’re not planning on going down there dressed like that,” Vetra said from somewhere behind a pile of cargo crates.

“Sure I am, mom.”

“The big bad Pathfinder doesn’t need armour anymore, huh?” Vetra poked her head over the crates, frowning the way that only a turian can. “Taking a gun with you, at least?”


“Sara,” Cora began. “Actually, never mind.”

“What’s up?” Sara busied herself with hiding her pistol inside her jacket. Just in and out, she reminded herself. No need to get caught up in Reyes’ world again. No need to get caught up in Reyes again.

Cora continued hesitantly. “Maybe I should go visit instead. I’m sure he’s as concerned as we are about Kaetus’ raids, just… maybe he can’t face you.”

Sara shook her head again. “I asked Reyes to let Kaetus go free,” she grumbled. “It’s my responsibility to clean this up. If I can be an adult about it, he can too.”

She still felt guilty about what happened to Sloane and her right-hand turian - and still felt stupid for feeling that way in the first place. She almost wished she’d let Reyes kill Kaetus. That way, she wouldn’t owe the Charlatan anything.

She’d always thought that name was stupid - but she got it, now. Charlatan. Pretender. Liar.

“If you’re sure,” Cora murmured.

“But just so you know,” Vetra interjected, “we’re coming down to get you if you aren’t back in twenty minutes.”

“Good to know.”

Sara wasn’t sure what Vetra was worried about, but she didn’t want clarification. Could be that Vetra was worried about the dangers of the slums, but it could be she was worried about Reyes.

Sara understood. The Initiative scientists said the black hole was Heleus’ gravitational centre, but those people had never met Reyes Vidal. Sara tried not to think about it as the elevator started to descend. It would be so easy to lock eyes with him and forget all his broken promises; forget all the reasons they couldn’t and shouldn't be together. That was what gravity was, right? A pull.

A pull that never went away.

The rain was even less pleasant in the slums. Sara sprinted from the elevator to the relative shelter provided by the prefab catwalks. Even here, where the slums turned almost to a sort of cave system, the rain pounded on the metal like thunder. It was hard to hear anything over the din. A local salarian gave Sara a frightened look as she approached the entrance to Tartarus, then sprinted away like the Charlatan himself was on his heels. Maybe Reyes had told his people to watch out for her.

Sara smiled at the thought - Reyes Vidal, frightened of his ex.

His ex-what? Ex-girlfriend? Ex-fling? Sara didn’t even really know.

She paused at the entrance, trying to gather her thoughts. Tartarus’ walls couldn’t contain it; she could feel the bassline tickling her spine. She’d keep their discussion business-like. Walk in, sit down, and get straight to the point.

Hi, Reyes. Good to see you’re still alive. No, really, it's fine that you haven’t been answering my emails. I’m busy, too. Really. It's fine.

Listen, I need your help finding some raiders. Thing is, Kaetus is their leader. Yes, I know I asked you to let him live, but that’s because I’m a giant sap - and also because I was feeling fragile after you broke my heart.

The intro definitely needed some work. But shit - between the cacophony around her and the cataclysm inside her, Sara could hardly even breathe, let alone think straight. Maybe she should just turn around and let Cora come down here after all. Cora was nothing if not level-headed. She’d get things done, minimum fuss -

Sara almost didn’t hear the footsteps behind her, but she did hear them a split second too late. She spun around, reaching for the gun inside her jacket, only to find a barrel already at her forehead. It was the salarian that had run away from her earlier - which might not have been a problem, if not for the bulky human and bulkier krogan at his back.

Probably not Reyes’ men, then.

“What do you want?” she hissed.

“Me? Nothing. My client? Don’t know, don’t care.”

Sara hated herself for it, and it left a bad taste in her mouth, but she said it anyway. “You know what the Charlatan will do when he hears about this, right?”

“Pathfinder,” SAM said on their private channel. “I have alerted Lieutenant Harper to your situation. Your squad should be here momentarily. Would you like me to contact Mr. Vidal?”

Sara shook her head frantically.

The salarian glanced nervously at his companions. “You bring the Oblivion?”

“Got it right here.”

The krogan handed him a syringe, and Sara felt her insides shrivel up the moment she realized what was happening. They clearly weren’t going to shoot her, so fuck the gun to her head. She jammed her hand inside her jacket, biotics flaring -

The krogan clocked her in the side of the jaw, and Sara went flying. Her skull hit the wall with a crack; the rest of her hit the floor with a muffled thud. She groaned, her hand going to her head to try to feel out the damage, but one of them stepped on her wrist. She screamed in pain, kicking backwards with her heels and praying someone inside the bar might wonder about the noise, but she could barely hear herself over the drumming of the rain and the pounding of the music. She wanted to tell SAM to forget what she said before; to call for Reyes, even if she’d rather die than have him see her like this, but she couldn’t form the words -

Then the salarian stuck the syringe in her neck.

It turned out that Oblivion was pretty fast-acting. Sara’s vision went blurry almost immediately. Warmth washed over her, like a waterfall starting from the point of contact with the needle, and her limbs gave way like crumbling dams before a flood. She sighed quietly. Suddenly, the weight on her wrist was nothing. There was blood in her eyes, but that was fine. The pain in her head smoothed out, like a light wave red-shifting to infinity. Everything was fine.

She was lucid enough to wonder if they’d given her a fatal dose - but not lucid enough to feel afraid.

“Pathfinder,” she heard SAM say. “You are on the brink of unconsciousness.”

“That’s okay,” Sara murmured into the grate under her cheek.

Behind her, one of the thugs laughed. “She likes it.”

“Just hurry the fuck up.”

Someone with big arms and terrible body odour lifted Sara up and hoisted her over their shoulder. She dangled limply, her chin bouncing against their armour plating. It should have been painful, but she barely felt it. She was dizzy. So dizzy.

And then she felt nothing at all.


Sara’s first sensation on waking up was of being weightless. At first, she put it down to the lingering effects of the Oblivion. Then she bounced off something solid and realized she was weightless.

“What the fuck?”

She opened her eyes - and it hurt. She was floating upside down in…a cage? A room? There were bars on one wall, so she supposed it was a prison, but the rest was made of solid rock. She felt for her gun, but it was gone, and the realization made her stomach fall down through her shoes. Or maybe rise up through her shoes. Either way, it was doing something stomachs were not meant to do.

When she touched her forehead, her fingers found tenderness and dried blood. At least she wasn’t still bleeding. There was a bruise on her wrist and a scab on the side of her neck. She was still dizzy. Maybe that was because she was upside down.

“SAM?” Her voice came out croaky. “Are…are we okay?”

“I believe so, Pathfinder.” Sara could have collapsed with relief, if collapsing had been possible. “The injuries you sustained during your encounter outside Tartarus were not serious. However, there is still a large amount of Oblivion in your system. I have manipulated your physiological processes to minimize the impact on your system, but you are in need of medical attention.”

“Great. Do you know why I’m upside down?”

“You were kidnapped, Pathfinder.”

“Thanks, SAM, but that doesn’t answer my question.”

“The people who abducted you seem to have brought you to a location where local gravity approaches zero. Artificial gravity appears to be in use in the compound around you, but has been switched off within this room.”


“Without additional data, I can only speculate.”

“Speculate away.”

“Perhaps they wish to disorient you.”

After drugging me?”

“As I said, I can only speculate.”

“Okay. So, where are we? Is the crew on their way?”

A moment of silence passed before SAM responded. “The rock in this particular area contains an extremely high percentage of lead and other heavy elements. While the QEC component of your implant allows me to stay in contact with you, the locator chip is unable to transmit your position. Furthermore, as you were unconscious during the journey to this location, I was not able to observe the kidnappers. I cannot be certain why the chip was not functioning before your arrival. It is likely that they employed some form of communications jamming technology.”

Sara’s mouth was suddenly very dry. “What are you saying, SAM?”

“I do not know where you are, Pathfinder.”

Shit. “But the crew knows I’m alive, right?”


“And they are looking, right?”

“Yes, Pathfinder. Both Initiative and Collective forces are conducting a sweep of the systems surrounding Kadara.”

“Collective, too?” It was the most irrational feeling Sara had ever had, but she was mortified. "You told Reyes what happened?“

“Mr. Kosta informed Mr. Vidal, Pathfinder. It was not me.”

“Great. Great, great, great.” Sara was drifting towards the ceiling this time, so she kicked it viciously. She regretted it almost immediately; Newton’s Third Law sent her careening backwards into the floor, and she knocked her head painfully. “Great.”

“Having a good time in there, Ryder?”

Sara almost leaped out of her skin. Bracing herself on the floor and twisting her wrist to turn herself around, Sara found herself face-to-toes with a turian. His new scars threw her off for a moment - but only for a moment.


“I didn’t expect you to remember me.” He hunkered down so that he was almost at eye level with her. Sara tried not to shrink away, but the impulse was almost overpowering. She’d never seen someone look quite so hungry. “But I remember you.”

Sara lifted her chin. “No surprises there. I’m kind of a big deal.”

Kaetus growled low in his throat, and a chill ran up Sara’s spine. “Talking big won’t help you now,” he snarled quietly. “I heard you talking to that AI in your head. It can’t find you, can it? And you can’t transmit your position.”

“Shows what you know,” Sara snapped. She was a bad liar at the best of times, but she didn’t have a lot of options. “If you let me out now, we’ll show mercy. But if you make my crew fly all the way out here, things will get messy.”

The turian scoffed, mandibles flexing. Sara was glad that SAM was controlling her heart rate, because otherwise she would have been a wreck. “You’re not dealing with some junkie pirate, Ryder. You can’t intimidate me.”

Sara was losing her patience. “Why did you bring me here?”

“I’m going to kill you.”

Sara almost swallowed her tongue. He said it so calmly; so blankly, like cold-blooded murder didn’t stir him at all. “So why the theatrics? Oblivion? A shielded prison? Zero-g?”

Kaetus smiled, in the only way that a turian could smile - with a gleam in his eye and a twist to his mandibles. On Vetra, it was cute. On Kaetus, it was terrifying. Sara shuddered.

“Keep wondering.”

He stood up and turned to leave. Sara clawed her way over to the cell door and clung to the bars. “Where do you think you’re going, Kaetus? We aren’t done yet!”

He didn’t turn, but he called something over his shoulder. “Believe me, Ryder. You are done.”

Sara kicked the bars - and, of course, it sent her flying backwards. She was ready for it this time, bracing herself for impact against the far wall. She floated aimlessly for a while, fuming. What was his game?

“Pathfinder, I believe that Kaetus may intend to keep you here for some time.”

“Why do you say that, SAM?”

“A zero-gravity prison serves little purpose for a short-term incarceration. Several hours of weightlessness may disrupt your coordination. It is also likely to cause nausea, lethargy and vertigo. Several weeks, however, will have more severe effects. I may be able to counteract the damage to your immune and cardiovascular systems by adjusting your physiological responses myself. However there is little I can do to combat the accompanying loss of bone density and muscle mass.”

“So…what? Kaetus wants me to feel like shit?”

“Perhaps. It is more likely that he hopes you will be unable to fight back when he decides that your time is up.”

Sara tried to keep her breathing steady. There was no way she’d be here that long. She was the human Pathfinder, and her team were the best of the best. They’d tear the cluster apart looking for her - surely - and they had SAM to help them. Something was bound to shake loose sooner rather than later.

And then there was Reyes. He was looking for her, too.


“Yes, Pathfinder?”

“Kaetus is waiting for Reyes, isn’t he?”

When SAM spoke, he sounded as hesitant as an AI could. “Without additional data -”

“You can only speculate.”

“That is correct.”

just my fave disjointed snippets of percabeth in house of hades...

Annabeth’s only comfort was Percy. Every so often he would glance over and smile, or squeeze her hand. He had to be just as scared and miserable as she was, and she loved him for trying to make her feel better.

Her legs wobbled so badly, Percy cursed himself for not calling a rest earlier.  They sat together on a ledge next to a roaring fiery waterfall. Percy put his arm around Annabeth, and she leaned against him, shaking from exhaustion.  

At least he had Annabeth. They would find a way out of Tartarus. They had to. He didn’t think much of fates and prophecies, but he did believe in one thing: Annabeth and he were supposed to be together. They hadn’t survived so much just to get killed now.  "Things could’ve been worse,“ Percy didn’t see how, but he tried to sound upbeat.  Annabeth snuggled against him. Her hair smelled of smoke, and if he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine they were at the campfire at Camp Half-Blood.

Whenever Percy felt like giving up, he reached over and took Annabeth’s hand, just to remember there was warmth in the world.  He tried to think of good things to keep his spirits up—the lake at Camp Half-Blood, the time he’d kissed Annabeth underwater. He tried to imagine the two of them in New Rome together, walking through the hills and holding hands. Annabeth laced her fingers through his. In the light of his bronze sword, her face was so beautiful.  "We’re together,” she reminded him. “We’ll get through this.”  He’d been so worried about lifting her spirits, and here she was reassuring him.  "Yeah,“ he agreed. "Piece of cake." 

She’d lost track of how long she and Percy had been falling—hours? A day? It felt like an eternity. They had been holding hands ever since they dropped into the chasm. Now Percy pulled her close, hugging her tight as they tumbled through absolute darkness.  Annabeth wrapped her arms around Percy and tried not to sob. She’d never expected her life to be easy. Most demigods died young at the hands of terrible monsters. That was the way it had been since ancient times. The Greeks invented tragedy. They knew the great heroes didn’t get happy endings.  Still, this wasn’t fair. [..] Just when she’d succeeded, when things had been looking up and she’d been reunited with Percy, they had plunged to their deaths.  Even the gods couldn’t devise a fate so twisted. […] Annabeth pressed her lips to Percy’s ear. "I love you.”  She wasn’t sure he could hear her—but if they died, she wanted those to be her last words. 

He wove between the trees, leading Annabeth at a full sprint despite her blindness. Percy realized how much she trusted him to get her out of this.

Now Percy was in Tartarus, dying form gorgon’s blood plus a dozen another agonizing curses, while he watched his girlfriend stumble around, helpless and blind and believing she’d abandoned her. He clutched his sword. His skin started to steam. White smoke curled off his forearms. I won’t die like this, he thought.  Not only because it was painful and insultingly lame, but because Annabeth needed him. Once he was dead, the demons would turn their attention to her. He couldn’t leave her alone.

She saw Percy, and series of expressions flashed across her face—relief, joy, shock, and horror. “What’s wrong with him?” she cried. “What happened?” She cradled his shoulders and wept into his scalp.  Percy wanted to tell her it was okay, but of course it wasn’t. He couldn’t even feel his body anymore.  Annabeth took his face in her hands. She kissed him and tried to wipe the dust and sweat from his eyes.

“My friend is dying. Can you cure him or not?” Her voice caught on the word friend. Percy was a lot more than that. Even boyfriend really didn’t cover it. They’d been through so much together, at this point Percy was part of her—a sometimes annoying part, sure, but definitely a part she could not live without.

“Annabeth!” Percy pulled her back just as her foot hit the edge of a drop-off. She almost pitched forward into who-knew-what, but Percy grabbed her and wrapped her in his arms. “It’s okay,” he promised. She pressed her face into his shirt and kept her eyes closed tight. She was trembling, but not just from fear. Percy’s embrace was so warm and comforting she wanted to stay there forever safe and protected…but that wasn’t reality. She couldn’t afford to relax. She couldn’t lean on Percy any more than she had to. He needed her, too.

The cement settled in Percy’s stomach. He had always suspected how this would end. He would have to stay behind. […] Percy would hold the elevator button and make sure Annabeth got to safety.  Somehow, he had to convince her to go without him. As long as she was safe and the Doors disappeared, he could die knowing he’d done something right. “Percy…?” Annabeth stared at him, a suspicious edge in her voice.  She was too smart. If he met her eyes, she would see exactly what he was thinking.

“Get in the elevator. I’ll hold the button.“  "Yeah, right!” She smacked a carnivorous horse in the snout with the butt of her sword and sent the monster stampeding through the crowd. “You promised me, Seaweed Brain. We would not get separated. Ever again!” “You’re impossible!” “Love you too!”

For years, he had worried about Annabeth dying. When you’re a demigod that goes with the territory. Most half-bloods don’t live long. You always knew the next monster you fought could be your last. But seeing Annabeth like this was too painful. He’d rather stand in the River Phlegethon, or get attacked my aria, or be trampled by giants.

She decided she’d rather die in some less memorable way–maybe falling down the stairs, or going peacefully in her sleep at the age eighty, after a nice quiet life with Percy. Yes, that sounded good.

Despite being beat-up, sooty, and dressed like a homeless person, she looked great to Percy.  So what if they were in Tartarus? So what if they stood a slim chance of surviving. Percy was so glad that they were together, he had the ridiculous urge to smile.  

"Percy, wake me for second watch. Don’t be a hero.” He gave her that smirk she’d come to love. “Who, me?”  He kissed her, his lips parched and feverishly warm. “Sleep." 

“Maybe a little sleep,” she agreed. Bob scooped her up like a rag doll. She didn’t protest. He set her next to Percy on the giant’s bed, and she closed her eyes. Annabeth woke staring at the shadows dancing across the hut’s ceiling. She hadn’t had a single dream. That was so unusual, she wasn’t sure if she’d actually woken up. As she lay there, Percy snoring next to her and Small Bob purring on her belly […] Percy sat bolt upright. “What? What—where—what?” “It’s okay.” Annabeth took his arm. When he registered that they were together in a giant’s bed with a skeleton cat, he looked more confused than ever. 

She hugged Percy tighter and kissed him. "Tell me about New Rome,” she demanded. “What were your plans for us?”  "New Rome…for us…“  "Yeah, Seaweed Brain. You said we could have a future there! Tell me!” Annabeth had never wanted to leave Camp Half-Blood. It was the only real home she’d ever known. But days ago, on the Argo II, Percy had told her that he imagined a future for the two of them among the Roman demigods. In their city of New Rome, veterans of the legion could settle down safely, go to college, get married, even have kids.  "Architecture,“ Percy murmured. The fog started to clear from his eyes. 

"But next time,” she said, “I want to go somewhere different on a date.”  "Paris was nice,“ he recalled.  She managed a smile. Months ago, before Percy got amnesia; they’d had dinner in Paris one night, compliments of Hermes. That seemed like another lifetime.  "I’d settle for New Rome,” she offered. “As long as you’re there with me.” Man, Annabeth was awesome. For a moment, Percy actually remembered what it was like to feel happy. He had an amazing girlfriend. They could have a future together.

[…]Percy felt as hopeless as the spirits in the River Cocytus. So what if he was a hero? So what if he did something brave? Evil was always here, regenerating, bubbling under the surface. Percy was no more than a minor annoyance to these immortal beings. They just had to outwait him. Someday, Percy’s sons or daughters might have to face them all over again. Sons and daughters. The thought jarred him. As quickly as hopelessness had overtaken him, it disappeared. He glanced at Annabeth. She still looked like a misty corpse, but he imagined her true appearanceher gray eyes full of determination, her blond hair pulled back in a bandana, her face weary and streaked with grime, but as beautiful as ever. […] There was still hope. He and Annabeth had come this far. The Doors of Death were almost within reach. Sons and daughters. A ridiculous thought. An awesome thought. Right there in the middle of Tartarus, Percy grinned.

You’re not dying on me, Seaweed Brain,” Annabeth said. “Remember? Never separated again. And after we get home…”  "What?“ Percy asked.  She kissed him. "Ask me again, once we defeat Gaea.”  He smiled, happy to have something to look forward to. “Whatever you say.”

Dream A Little Dream

My first Clovis x Nico fanfic, because I love this ship so much.

For @percy-potter-sideblog, thank you for urging me to write this <3

Day 2/7 of the @lgbtqpjo 3k celebration.

“Since returning to camp and trying to find some semblance of normalcy again, Nico’s physical health had dramatically increased thanks to Solace’s constant badgering and berating. What hadn’t gotten any better over the past few months however, was his sleeping habits, and more specifically, his dreams.“


“Clovis… Are you sure about this?” Nico asked the boy in front of him, who was staring intensely. People say Nico had a weird aura, but he personally thought it was nothing compared to the aura that surrounded children of Hypnos.

“I offered didn’t I?” Clovis replied, not breaking eye contact even as he stifled a yawn. “Besides, your doctor recommended I help you with your dreams.”

“Please don’t call him my doctor, it’ll only encourage him.”

“Encouraging him to help you is something I actively do, Nico.”

And boy, wasn’t that the truth. Since returning to camp and trying to find some semblance of normalcy again, Nico’s physical health had dramatically increased thanks to Solace’s constant badgering and berating. What hadn’t gotten any better over the past few months however, was his sleeping habits, and more specifically, his dreams.

Keep reading

better days

a lil fic about bad days, and how people can’t make them go away but they can make them hurt less.


There are bad days.

Sometimes, all Nico can dream about is Tartarus. He wakes up with the shadows slick against his skin, slimy and cold, like something dead.

Some days, he feels eyes upon him, never leaving. Everybody feels like a threat. Feels like even his own shadow is trying to run away, when it spreads out beneath his feet as the sun burns down.

Some days, Camp Half-Blood still doesn’t feel like home at all.

Keep reading

Bricks and Bones

@cindersart - You wrote a post about PTSD and Percy Jackson (namely, frank/jason/hazel/piper) and I wanted to give it a go; let me know what you think! :) This is Jason’s.




I can’t




I can’t I can’t I can’t

Keep reading