The Lighthouse Keeper

by WizardsGirl

Summary:

When a far more Jaded, far-less-Mortal Percy wakes up in his nine-year-old body, he very firmly decides that Once Was Enough, Thank You! So, instead of deciding to re-do his childhood But Better, he decides that this whole Mortal Hero thing is just NOT for him. So, instead, he decides to do as his kind-of-sibling Nereus does, and become a Hermit. Hell, he even makes his Mortality burn away faster than it had in the Before, so he CAN'T become the Child of Prophesy this time!

His plan is absolutely foolproof!
(Now if only he considered everyone ELSE when he made this plan...)

Notes:

Percy : (Time Travels)
Percy: Hmm, don't like that.

Chapter 1: Prologue: Wherein Percy Travels Back In Time And Retires Early

~*~*~*~*~*~

The Lighthouse Keeper

~*~*~*~*~*~

.Prologue.

Wherein Percy Travels Back In Time And Retires Early

…………………………………………….

 

Percy woke up and immediately wished he hadn’t. This, funnily enough, wasn’t exactly a new situation. The not wanting to wake, that is. Not… This. Not opening his eyes and finding himself in the tiny, dingy bedroom he’d spent the earliest parts of his childhood in. Staring blankly at the dark stain on his ceiling, the one shaped kind of like a dolphin with horse legs, Percy let out a slow, controlled breath.

Then, with the same grim determination that had seen him through the second Demigod VS God War, he got out of bed, stumbling on too-small-too-weak legs, and, grimacing, slipped out of his room and into the tiny closet of a bathroom to peer into the mirror above the sink. His own face, round and puffy with the fat of prepubescence, stared back at him, and he winced as he spotted his own, very-much-adult Eyes staring back from that face. It was very Uncanny Valley, and made him think of those Russian Mermaids he met once, with the pretty faces that were just Off Enough to set off his instincts. This was no different, except in all the ways it was, because it was his own face... And yet...

When he’d closed his eyes, he’d been closer to forty than he thought he’d ever be, and now… Squinting at the mirror, he clocked the cracked upper corner from the time when he was seven and his Mom had thrown a book at a spider that… probably hadn’t been a normal spider, all things considered. Pausing only a moment to think on that, Percy refocused on the mirror, and the wall around it.

There was the plastered hole in the drywall from when Gabe had slammed his fist through it in a drunken rage when he thought Percy had stolen some of his money, when Percy was eight. And there, to the left of the sink, was the stain where a single drop of blood had slipped when Percy was nine and trying to clean the blood of a broken nose off before his Mom got home…

But it wasn’t quite a stain, yet.

Staring at the dark reddish-brown mark, Percy considered his options. He could tell, thanks to an unfortunate amount of experience, that the blood was less than a day old. This meant that his Mom had already been and gone again, back to work at her second or third job so that she could afford the bills and empty-hole that was Gabe Ugliano in their finances. This meant that Percy had about ten-to-fifteen hours before she came home.

So, now, he had choices to make.

He did not want to redo everything. He didn’t give a single fuck about the Prophesies. Let Kronos or Gaia or the Demigods or Titans or whatever win this time around, he didn’t care. He was tired. He’d already been close to Ascension, when he’d closed his eyes, too many Godly Deeds and Heroic Quests done in too short a time by him alone. Hell, he’d started glowing in the dark halfway through Tartarus last time around—yet another thing he had no interest in repeating, thank you very much.

So, the best and easiest way to avoid all that… Was to disappear.

And he had the perfect excuse, snoring obnoxiously in the living room, passed out in his chair.

…………………………

Killing Gabe himself this time around was somewhat cathartic, Percy mused as he stared down at his stepfather’s corpse. It was also incredibly… Disappointing. For all that his memories had made the man into a monster, the fact was, Gabe was so utterly Mortal that it took very little to kill him at all. A flex of his powers on the movement of blood in his veins and bam. One dead Gabe, ready to use as a scapegoat. Honestly, Percy, had he actually been nine, would probably feel horrified and would have no doubt fled from home to begin with if this had happened in the Before. As it was, Percy had very clear, very traumatic memories of putting his sword through actual children in the last War. The relatively peaceful and painless death of an abusive piece of shit Mortal… Didn’t even register, if he was honest.

Hence the Disappointment.

Letting out a low sigh, Percy turned and started arranging his scene, using a flex of power to toss beer bottles against the wall with more force than necessary. He used a piece of the glass to cut himself, grimacing at the almost orange look to his blood even as he let some drip and spatter in different ways, making it clear that some awful fight went on between adult and child. Then, with a lot more focus than should have been needed, he pulled the Ichor from the blood spatters, leaving behind only the oh-so-Mortal red, tinged just enough with the Godly Gold that it glittered faintly without the Mist.

Then he took the dark blue-and-green rug that had been a gift to his Mom, dusty and damaged by cigarette butts and spilled beer as it was, and rolled it up. It would be very obvious that it was gone, but that didn’t matter when he was setting up his own murder scene, really. Then, he carried it down and shoved it into the back of the Camaro, grimacing as beer cans and cigarette boxes fell out, but he left them on the ground where they fell. Let it add to the scene.

Once that was done, he went back upstairs and eyed the Corpse for a few moments, considering the best way to do this. He’d already used more Godly Power than he should have been able to, in this form, but then again, he could already feel the burn of his Mortality dissolving. At this rate, he’d be Ascended once more in a few weeks… With drastically different Domain’s, he’d wager.

Ugh, he was going to have to relearn how to use his new powers all over again, damn it all.

Grumbling to himself, Percy narrowed his eyes at the Corpse and flexed his Powers, hooking them into the still-there liquids within the veins. With careful movements, he pulled a Puppeteer, making the body move to his will. Snagging the keys from the shelf by the door, Percy made his Corpse-Puppet exit the building, making sure to smear a bit of his blood on the doorknob and have Puppet-Gave leave a smudged fingerprint in it, to add to his scene. Then he got the Puppet into the Drivers seat, started the car, and carefully made it start to drive.

Gods, faking his death was exhausting… Absently, as he curled up on the passenger seat, out of view from Mortal and Camera alike so he could guide the Corpse-Puppet, Percy wondered if his Mom would still get together with Paul this time around. He adored Estelle, and definitely wouldn’t mind if she came to be again, but if he got a different sibling this time around, he wouldn’t be upset. As long as his Mom was happy and safe, free to pick a man who wasn't an absolute dick or a God (not that those were necessarily separate things), he'd be happy for her.

Humming lowly to himself, he left himself drift into the vague focus of controlling the Corpse-Puppet as they drove. He considered heading over to LA, to let the Mist there cover him further, since it was hiding the Romans and all, in order to further hide, but the fact was he didn’t want anything to do with them either. He’d honestly rather flood the whole place and murder all the adults, the Senate, and fucking Octavian too, but, no. He was tired, damn it, and he wanted his fucking vacation.

No fucking wonder Nereus was the way he was. Percy was this close to becoming a Hermit and just—Wait.

That was perfect.

Almost giddy with his new plan, Percy made his Corpse-Puppet change directions, no longer aimlessly driving but now purposeful. Let the Mortal authorities believe he was trying to throw off the scent, let them form conclusions and make grim connections to dots with facts they believed they had. Percy knew his destination now.

After all, Florida was a beautiful place filled with weirdoes of all kinds. No one would questions one more, especially one that only wished to be left alone.

…………………………

Back in the time Before, early on in his Demigod Days, maybe before he handed Luke the blade or maybe after, he couldn’t remember, Percy had been told his Fatal Flaw was Loyalty. And, maybe, in a way, it still was. At the time, he had worn that Flaw with pride, had gone into battle for his loved ones and the Gods and held his head high in every situation because they had no right to judge him, he was loyal, so much so he would rather die than betray those he held close.

What no one ever tells you is that Fatal Flaws can change. Maybe not inherently, maybe more of a twisted reflection of what once was, much like Percy was now. Twisted and changed and shoved into a too-small mold that was far from an ideal shape, but somehow managing to continue on as if all was well.

You see, Percy has always been Loyal. Has always stood up for those he called friend, even for those he called foe. But, the one thing everyone seems to forget is that not only is Loyalty a two-way street (something he grew used to seeing forgotten, ignored, abused in the Before), but that it didn’t necessitate another person.

Loyalty to self. To values and morals and beliefs. THAT was where his Fatal Flaw laid in truth, especially here and now, in his familiar-different-body with its too-old-too-damaged-soul. Percy had sacrificed and Sacrificed for others, but only of Himself. He had killed and died and suffered for others, because that was what he knew to be the only option.

But, once something was Sacrificed, you couldn’t bring it back. So, what did you get, when you lost pieces of yourself for others? What filled the Void left in your Soul when you clawed out bloody, burning pieces and offered them up to those who greedily took and took and took?

Percy had turned down Godhood three times, in the Before. Once out of Anger, once out of Love, and once out of Grief. He had Sacrificed Blood, Sweat, Tears, Joy, Pain, and his very Life for others, to the Beliefs and Morals and Values upon which his Loyalty was forged, stronger than anything even Hephaestus could make. That has a Power of its own, and the Rule of Three was a powerful thing by itself.

What was left, what Became, was the Percy of Before becoming the Percy of Now. And it was just as twisted a reflection of Before as his Fatal Flaw had become.

Anger taken by Morals.

Love given to Beliefs.

Grief comforted by Values.

Three denials of Godhood, three aspects adhered to, three Wars fought and won.

Three and three and three.

As Percy sets his course to the warm waters of Florida, the burning of his dying Mortality continues, far faster than it should have in any other case, and, in doing so, shields him better than any layer of Mist or Blessing could hope. A String within the Morai’s hold shimmers to gold as Godhood settles in its infancy upon the Forbidden Child. Not even they could See where he was or what he would do… Or what he would Become.

Just as the sea cannot be Tamed, Percy Jackson cannot be Caged. Even by Fate Itself.

Chapter 2: Chapter One: In Which Percy Keeps Getting Sidetracked

Notes:

Monsters: (Exist)
Percy: And I took Offence to that.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The Lighthouse Keeper

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

.Chapter One.

In Which Percy Keeps Getting Sidetracked

…………………………………………………….

 

You know, Percy had legitimately forgotten something important during his whole Faking His Death scheme. He’s man enough to admit it. He had a lot on his plate, it was only natural to forget some things, even important things, it’s okay, it happens.

Still, as he rips the head off of the Griffin with his bare fucking hands, blinking too-gold blood from his eyes after the stupid thing had tried to do the same to him, he was, admittedly, disappointed with himself. How, of all things to forget, how could he forget the most important thing about young Demigods?

They’re living, breathing, legitimate Monster Bait.

Scowling, even as it made the deep gouges in his face screech at him, he squinted at the sky, double-checking that this was the last of the Monsters in this current group. Behind him, the Camaro was smoking from where it was flipped upside-down, its roof torn open by hungry Monsters, his handy Corpse-Puppet now missing its head and most of its upper body in the maw of the first Griffin. Honestly, what he wouldn’t give to have Riptide again, seriously.

Now sans ride and leaking what amounted to Monster-Catnip, Percy turned and stomped away from the scene, absently scooping up the now-slightly-charred rug that had been thrown from the car with him. Gods, his fucking face hurt, and he couldn’t feel any water close by enough to keep the injuries from scarring.

Ugh. Three Wars, three of them, and in not one did his face get fucked up. The three deep gouges that went from just under his chin on the right, across his whole face, and into his hairline were going to be savage once he tossed some water on them to heal. In a way, he was almost glad. The scars would hopefully save him from some of the attention he got Before, and hopefully keep certain Goddesses who shall not be named from trying to interfere with his love-life.

Again.

On one hand, he was relieved to be able to escape the continuous “Pretty Boy” comments, both lewd and teasing and off-hand. On the other hand, THREE WARS! THREE! And the first major Monster attack since getting here breaks his streak immediately! Ugh, the Before-Ares would never let him live this down, fuck.

Huffing, pulling the rug around his shoulders like an Afghan blanket/cape, Percy trudged onward towards the distant feeling of the Sea. Well, at least they’d managed to get all the way to Virginia before his shit luck kicked in…

……………………………………………….

He was right. The scars were gnarly as fuck. The Griffon really had tried to rip his head right off with its ugly little bird feet, hadn’t it? Admiring his scarred visage in the water, he huffed softly as he dragged his fingers over them. They were almost as wide as two of his tiny fingers, and sliced through the left corner of his mouth, split his right eyebrow cleanly in half, and made both of his eyes a little droopy looking thanks to the way they’d nicked his eyelids.

Three Wars, he grumbled to himself, almost wistfully as he touched the soft scar tissue. Three Years, and I almost get taken out by a Griffin. Snorting at himself, Percy stood up, stretching his arms high over his head and then turning to head back into the trees, rug tied around his shoulders like a cloak. He had been going to drop it off in, like, a swamp or something, in order to continue the storyline of Gabe Killing Him And Dumping His Body but…

It smelled like his Mom, under the stale beer and cigarette smells. It smelled like blue cookies and sea-salt taffy and just a little bit of jasmine…

He hoped she didn’t mourn him too long. Logically, he knew his Mom loved him, like, seriously, fist-fight-Zeus level of love. He knew that everything she did, all the work she did, dealing with Gabe and getting beat on and humiliated, all of it, had been to keep him safe. Sally Jackson was a Queen among Mortals. She was stronger than Atlas, in Willpower at least, and Percy had no doubt she could pull any God or Goddess, no matter the Pantheon, if she had wanted.

Fuck, if Kronos had tried to get to him through her, she probably would have ended him before there could even be a fight!

But, despite all this, despite how much she loved his Dad and Loved Percy himself… He couldn’t remember ever seeing her as happy as she’d been when she and Paul had brought Estelle into the world. His Mom had always wanted a large family, had always wanted a Home filled with Love and Laughter and the pitter-patter of tiny feet…

She deserved a chance at that. At having a Home and Happiness.

And, as much as she Loved Percy, and as much as he Loved her, she couldn’t have that while constantly worrying about Percy.

(Loyalty was Percy’s Fatal Flaw, but, if he had another, it would be Self-Sacrifice. Always willing to sacrifice himself—his joy and peace and life, for others)

(Beliefs and Morals and Values, for Anger and Love and Grief. Three and three and three—)

Shaking his head, Percy let the matter drop, and instead focused on the here-and-now. It was a long walk to Florida, and he had unfortunately short legs.

Grumbling a little at the reminder, Percy readjusted his rug—and it was His now, he’d decided—and, keeping the Sea on his left, he walked into the woodlands.

………………………………….

The moment his Dad found out about his supposed death was immediately obvious.

Earthquakes shook the entire East and West Coast. Out-of-Season Hurricanes and Tsunami’s swept the country. Flash Floods and unprecedented rainfall took out entire swathes of countryside towns and farmlands. The death toll was enormous, and End-of-Day Cults began popping up everywhere.

Seriously, you’d think Percy was his heir and not his newest Demigod, with the way his Dad was going off.

Sitting on a cliffside somewhere along the coastline of North Carolina, eating a fish he’d pulled from a pond where it had been languishing, Percy rolled his eyes as he saw yet another boat be thrown on the waves. Seriously, his Dad was such a Drama Queen… But, well, he was Greek…

Slurping the tail of his meal into his mouth and humming happily at the crunch-crunch of tiny bones, Percy dusted fish scales from his hands, as he pushed himself to his feet… Or, well, tried to dust them off. Blinking at the decidedly webbed look his hands had started taking, he flexed his fingers with interest as he wandered away from the cliff. Tiny, pretty scales now dotted his hands, and his nails had turned dark blue-ish at the cuticle and gently pointed at the tips. No doubt, had he been older, they would be the hooked talons of Kymopoleia and Triton, or maybe the softer, straighter nails of Rhode and Benthesikyme…

He wondered, absently, what they would have looked like if he’d had the chance to grow them in the Before.

Shaking his head, letting his floppy, soaked hair splat onto his forehead, Percy tugged his rug closer and kept moving.

…………………………………..

Percy, of course, would find what seemed to be the only Demigods that thought travelling through the fucking woods in a hurricane was the best course of action. Ugh.

“Come with me,” he ordered the trio of shivering children hoarsely, the first time he’d spoken in days, teeth turned needle-like and sharp in his mouth, like a mix of moray eel and angler fish. He’d been disappointed that they hadn’t been shark teeth, when he’d woken to find them, but considering that the way they sat just barely kept him from biting off his tongue when he ate, he’d take what he could get.

“Why should we?!” One of the two boys snarled, teeth bared and a familiar, square-jawed defiance to him as he stood between Percy and the other two Demigods. Percy would recognize that punchable face anywhere, even on some snot-nosed twelve-year-old who looked more like a drowned cat than a fighter at the moment, even with the homemade spear in his hands. The two behind him were also rather distinct in appearance, with the other boy having a certain Sun God’s pretty-boy face and the girl looking just like a female version of Luke…

Percy squinted at her in thought, ignoring the way the Ares-kid stepped between them with a snarl. Had he ever actually seen a Daughter of Hermes? He thought there may have been one or two in the Third War, but they’d been on the side of the Rebellion and hadn’t lived past the first skirmish, if he remembered correctly. The Messenger tended to only have boys that were sturdy enough to make it to Camp, from what he remembered Before-Annabeth telling him, as was true for most of the Male-shaped Gods.

Gods bred Boys and Goddesses bred Girls, for the most part, when it came to Demigods at least. He only remembered because Annabeth had very smugly stated that Athena chose the gender of her Demigod children, and that was why there was almost always an equal number of boys and girls in their Cabin. He also remembered the distinctly disturbed feeling he’d gained from that knowledge, and how he had pointedly never brought it up with his then-girlfriend.

Ah, he should focus on the Now instead of the Before. The Ares-kid looks like he’s one thunderclap away from trying his luck with stabbing Percy and, even if it would heal immediately with all this rain, being stabbed still hurt and Percy didn’t feel like dealing with it right now.

“Follow or don’t follow, it’s all the same to me,” Percy told them bluntly, reaching up to rub the dull, throbbing pain that had been growing in the very center of his forehead for the last day, a distinct lump growing slowly in the skin. “But if you need a place to rest, there’s a place for you at my squat for the night, at least.”

“He-he’s t-telling-g th-the truth-th,” Apollo-kid managed, teeth chattering as he shoved some of his blond hair out of his face; Ares-kid looked mulish and defiant, all the way until Hermes-girl sneezed, a meek little mouse of sound that was, frankly, unfairly adorable. Then he grunted and waved his spear at Percy, as if he was in any way threatening, and Percy turned his back to lead the way.

To be honest, Percy wasn’t sure what had led him to the trio of Demigods. He’d found an old Hippie-style van in a ravine, coated in rust and missing its tires, but dry and empty, with some old, dusty, and mildew-scented blankets in the back. He’d just gotten settled into it when, suddenly, his ADHD had given him a burst of manic, move-now-or-go-insane energy. Basically, he’d gotten an awful boost of the Zoomies, and then he’d found himself here, having just used his powers to rip a harpy into pieces as she’d dived towards the Demigods, and now here he was. Leading said Demigods to the abandoned van, energy still too high to relax and mood soured by the growing lump in his forehead.

I swear to fuck if I’m growing a Cyclops eye I will End someone, he thought grumpily as he gently prodded the spot on his forehead. Glancing over his shoulder at the Demigods, he nodded towards the van as it appeared from around a thick clump of trees.

“It doesn’t look like much, but it’s dry,” he informed them solemnly. “It’s dry and the metal is thick, so its hard for Monster’s to get into, and hard for them to smell you, especially in this weather. There are some blankets and cushions inside.”

“Thank you,” Apollo-boy managed to all but chirp, offering him a bright—pun intended—smile, showing off his fucking dimples. Man, what a cute kid, shame Percy was more than three times his age and had killed kids half of said age. But, if he lived through the future bullshit, man he was gonna be a favorite of the Aphrodite Cabin, that’s for sure.

“Don’t mention it,” Percy told him bluntly, nodding his head to the open van doors. “Hop in, I’ll take care of the water.”

“What’s that mean, you freakin’ weirdo?” Ares-boy scoffed, sneering at Percy, but it was ten times less caustic than Clarisse’s at her worst, so Percy ignored it. Besides, the moment the older-in-body-boy entered the van, Percy answered by pulling the water from them all and dumping it on the ground outside.

“That’s so cool!” The Hermes-girl blurted, eyes wide and mouth quirked into an impish grin that made Percy offer a half-smile of his own automatically. He offered them some sarcastic jazz-hands, and then hopped in to perch on the very edge of the van, half-in-half-out, immediately slumping so that his back was to the wall on one side, leaving more than enough room for them to see out into the dark. Immediately, Ares-boy relaxed a little and Hermes-girl fidgeted in the familiar, nervous way Percy vaguely remembered the Stolls doing. Apollo-boy, however, had already slumped over onto one of the mildew-y blankets with a relieved sigh. In the darkness of the van, the boy glowed faintly, and it was immediately warmer, which made the Hermes-girl scoot over to lean against him with a soft sigh of her own. Percy snorted a little, ignoring the way his own skin glowed and turning his head so his gaze stayed out on the dim, gray woods around them.

Partly it was so the Ares-boy could pretend he wouldn’t notice him also scooting closer to his younger, already-dozing comrade, but, mostly, it was to disguise the glow of Percy’s eyes.

The skin was one thing, he could play it off, like the Apollo-boy could. But eyes that glowed as bright as his had started were just a little too Other in comparison. Especially since they glowed a sickly yellow, like old flashlights, and were kind of freaky to Percy. Ares-boy would absolutely stab him if he looked up and saw them in the middle of the night.

Being stabbed hurts damn it. 10/10 Do NOT Recommend.

“So, who’re you?” Ares-boy demanded aggressively, making Percy roll his eyes, feeling the now-familiar tug of his scars.

“No one to you,” he stated, partly to tug the other boys tail, partly because he wasn’t a fucking idiot. Names had Power, and like fuck was he going to say his own when his Dad was still going strong with the mortality rates.

“What Sean means to say,” Hermes-girl interrupted even as now-named Ares-boy stiffened, “is thanks for the help, what’s your name?” Percy huffed a little, amused even as he mentally raised her age from his current nine to somewhere around thirteen, maybe. Sometimes he forgot that one of Hermes Domains was diplomacy, with how many of the Thief- and Traveler-Aspect kids popped up. Maybe that’s why there were less girls of his around. They tried to talk or think their way out of a problem that quick feet or hands would have been better…

That was actually really fucking depressing.

“Names have power, Demigod,” Percy told her simply, bluntly, keeping his eyes outward. “And the Gods are always listening.”

“Demigod?” She asked, a slight sharpness entering her tone, something so similar to Annabeth’s that Percy wondered if her Mortal Parent was a Legacy of Athena. “Is that what we’re called?” Percy hummed lowly in acknowledgement, eyes catching on movement, only to look away when a tired-looking doe wandered out of the distant bushes.

“So my Dad’s not just a deadbeat but a godly deadbeat?” Sean asked dubiously; Percy couldn’t help snorting, lips almost catching on his fancy sharp teeth as he hid a grin.

“Those two things aren’t always separate, so, yeah. Greek Gods, specifically,” Percy told them, amused. “And, again, no names. Last thing you want is someone getting smite-happy because you said their Name too many times or something stupid like that.”

“Wait, seriously?” Apollo-boy blurted, sitting up and no-doubt blinking owlishly at Percy. “They’d seriously, y’know? K-kill us because we said their name too much?!” Percy couldn’t help it; he glanced over his shoulder at the trio.

Immediately, his flashlight-eyes lit up the interior of the van brightly, making the girl give a sharp gasp, Sean hiss and clutch his spear tightly, and Apollo-boy flinch back in surprise. Was it sad that Percy wasn’t even a little hurt by this? He remembered how others reacted after he’d been forced to use his poison powers in the Third War to stop an attack from a Rebel-Demigod whose parent had been a Minor God. He’d turned the poison away from his own squad and back onto the boy. He’d died screaming and choking and vomiting blood, Percy remembered.

He couldn’t have been more than fourteen.

(He hadn’t even been the youngest Percy had killed in that War…)

“The Gods are not Human,” Percy told them slowly, calmly, staring at them because, fuck it, if he could scare some common fucking sense into these kids with his creepy flashlight-eyes, maybe they’d live through the shitstorm that was coming. “They’re less prone to murder and vengeance and horrific curses than they were in the days of Ancient Greece, but do not expect human logic from them. You might as well ask a dog what a fish is thinking.” Staring at them a moment longer, Percy turned his gaze away to watch the darkness, moodily frowning as he did so.

Fuck, he was getting just as dramatic as the rest of the family was. Was it a Curse? Did Ichor influence how much Drama a person got? Fuck, he’d sounded like some weirdo from a TV show…

Oh my Gods am I Angel?! He thought suddenly in mild horror. Was, was Annabeth my Buffy?? Fuck, I wish I had my adult body so I could drink, Gods damn it.

“Are you, are you gonna hurt us?” Apollo-boy managed, voice soft and shaky and so damn young it made Percy grimace.

“If I wanted to hurt you, you’d already be dead,” he stated instead, huffing to himself and reaching up to rub his forehead-lump. Fuck, he was too damn old for this shit… “Get some rest. In the morning, head North. There’s a town a few hours walk that way, with a payphone. I’ll give you the number to call in the morning, they’ll send someone to pick you up, although it’ll be a couple hours. Long Island’s a bit of a drive from here.”

“Long Island?” Sean asked him sharply, warily; Percy hummed, leaning his head back against the doorframe of the van.

“There’s a Camp there, hidden by the Gods, for their Mortal kids,” he told them, shifting around so his feet were in the van, frowning at how short they were, ugh. “The Gods aren’t allowed to physically interact with their Mortal kids much, see. There are Old Laws that prevent it, and no one wants to face the kind of punishment breaking them will do. A lot of kids spend their whole lives never even knowing which of the Gods is their parent, even. It sucks and is pointlessly cruel in my opinion, but it's just the way things are right now.” Grimacing, Percy closed his eyes and leaned his head back again, hoping to maybe doze a little once this talk was done. “The Camp is free to stay at. You can stay year-round or just for the summer, it doesn’t matter. They’ll teach you how to fight and defend yourselves, at least, and that’s what’s important. Demigods have hard, and often short, lives, so make the most of it that you can. Understand?”

“…Thanks,” Hermes-girl stated, voice subdued, and Percy hummed quietly in acknowledgement, keeping his eyes shut. Silence reigned for several minutes, before Apollo-boy spoke up.

“So, wait, does that mean that Hercules was real or…?”

“Fuck that guy,” Percy blurted, eyes shooting open, ignoring the flinches it got him. “First of all, his name is Heracles, ‘cause his Dad named him after the Wife he cheated on to try an appease her, okay, and that guys is just such a dickbag, like, for real. Do not, under any circumstances, go near him, especially you,” he ordered, jabbing a finger at Hermes-girl, who stared at him, wide-eyed, and pointed at herself uncertainly. “He is a sexist pig and a rapist, as well as just an awful person, so stay the fuck away from him and if you ever see him, don’t run, just pray to whatever God or Goddess is listening to bail you the fuck out because he should never have been given Immortality.” The three of them stared at him, dumbfounded, and Percy winced a little. Damn, that was probably a little heavy handed, especially after all the doom-and-gloom shit he’d just gone on about—

“Wait, seriously?!” Apollo-boy demanded, aghast and offended sounding as he sat up. “What was the Disney movie about then?!” Percy snorted a bit and rolled his eyes. Leave it to the kid of the Music and Arts God to be offended about incorrect story-telling, he mused.

“Why’s he called Hercules in most things?” Hermes-girl asked curiously.

“Wait, are hydras real?” Sean demanded, his eyes suddenly wide and eager. “Like those bird-women that attacked us?”

“Disney twisted a lot of different stories together to make it sellable for kids,” Percy started, answering them in order, pointing a finger at Apollo-boy to start. “Ariel and her sisters don’t exist, either, but their Dad does, though he’s the Prince of the Sea, not the King.” He turned his finger on Hermes-girl next. “When the Roman Empire took over and booted out the Greeks, they changed a lot of things to fit their vernacular better. Heracles became Hercules, Kyklopes became Cyclopes, all that jazz. The bird-women were harpies, by the way, and as for hydras,” he continued, finger jabbing at Sean, a small grin tugging the scars on his face as he did and showing off his needle-like teeth. “Not only do they exist, but they’re also an absolute pain to deal with.”

Apparently, candidly answering their questions was either the wrong or right thing to do, Percy wasn’t sure.  All he knew was that he suddenly found three voraciously curious children asking a barrage of questions that only his personal experiences and his years with Annabeth on an information bender helped him answer. By the time they all finally dropped off, Percy was wide-awake and reluctantly fond of the brats, even prickly little Sean who, even now, was cuddled up with his spear in such a typically Ares Kid way Percy could only shake his head with a half-smile. Turning his gaze away, letting the dim beams of light drag over the foliage, he settled in for the night, and found he really didn’t mind doing the night watch.

It was almost nostalgic, really!

………………………………..

Percy sent the three kids off with directions and the phone number to Camp Half-Blood, eyes glowing and something steady and sure in his chest as he told them that they’d get there safely. He wasn’t quite sure what it was, but it stank of Domain Bullshit, so he felt comfortable not questioning it for now. No, he had bigger things to worry about.

Like the steadily, painfully bulging lump on his forehead.

“You better not be a fucking eye,” he muttered, glaring upward as much as he could, the lump big enough to see it at his visions edge. Huffing in irritation, Percy adjusted his rug-cloak and continued onward in his journey to Florida. If he stopped a time or two on the way to slaughter some Monsters who were obviously tracking Demigod scent, well, that was his business.

Notes:

Someone: (Mentions Hercules)
Percy: (Instantly Triggered) STEP THE FUCK UP, KYLE

Chapter 3: Chapter Two: Percy VS Florida: Round One!

Notes:

Percy: (Staring at Demigods)
Demigods: (Staring at Percy)
Percy: (Pointing) Whose Sassy Small Children are these?!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The Lighthouse Keeper

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

.Chapter Two.

Percy VS Florida: Round One!

……………………………………

So, good news, bad news, about that ominous forehead lump! Good News: It was NOT a Cyclops eye! Really, Percy was honestly relieved about it because, as much as he adored Tyson and a few of his other one-eyed half-siblings, he knew that he could not have pulled off the look, especially since he would have had three eyes and some of those half-siblings could already be pretty dickish about him having two so, yeah. Dodged that bullet!

Bad News?

It was a fucking lure. Like, not a fishing lure, but an honest-to-gods anglerfish lure. A little, dark blue tentacle-looking thing with a glowing orb on the end. It legitimately ‘popped’ out the moment he finally crossed the state lines into Florida, scared the shit out of him. And now, it was just there. Bobbing in front of his face like a carrot on a string before a horse, distracting and pretty and weird.

And! And it worked like an anglerfish’s lure, too! Especially at night! He hadn’t even been in Florida for two days, but he’d run into fourteen Monsters and eight Demigods! Eight! Just, out in the wild! They came stumbling out of the damn bushes, dazed and confused and eyes on his personal nightlight like it was a lifeline.

Absolutely Domain Bullshit, ugh.

So, Percy did what he always did when little Demigods came to him with those wide, lost eyes. He got them somewhere safe to rest, got them warm and guarded them while they slept and answered their questions as best he could and then sent them on their way with the Camp’s phone number and the knowledge that they would make it there safely.

Stupid little headlamp and stupid flashlight eyes and stupid Domain that made him Demigod Catnip, ugh.

At least when he Lured in Monsters, he got to kill something. Very therapeutic, you know, killing Monsters. And they even dropped things for him when they dissolved, sometimes! Like, his Lure did an Uno-Reverse on a Lamia who was trying to hunt a Aphrodite-boy who was Percy’s Physical Age (DisGUSTIN’, as the quote goes). Percy caught both Demigod and Monster in the eerie blue-white glow of his new appendage, used his rug to shield the kid from her bare-breasted glory, and promptly ripped the bitches head off with his bare hands—something that was honestly getting to be a little too much fun, seriously, just, so cathartic. In the glittery dust-sludge left behind, a nice pair of snake-skin boots were left as his spoils. Not his style, but they fit the Aphrodite-boy perfectly, so Percy set him up with them and a nice, dry place to sleep, then sent him on his way with a couple of granola bars.

Anyways, the Lure was as handy to have as it was distracting! And it was so fucking distracting. Percy had caught himself, more than once, just wandering in a slow amble into the swamps, eyes locked on his own fucking Lure like a goddamn fish, mouth parted and eyes half-lidded…

What was that Finding Nemo quote? When Marlin and Dory run into the Angler themselves? Ah, right. It made him feel happy which, like Marlin, was a big deal for him…

Wow. He was so fucking old, he was identifying with Marlin out of all the characters in that movie. Seriously, what the fuck.

Ugh, to change to topic: Florida! He’d made it! And only hated parts of it a little bit, no, really! It was hot and humid and had a shit ton of water, all of which was awesome! Seriously! You know what wasn’t awesome, though?

All. The. Godsdamned. Bugs.

They weren’t even biting him! They were just everywhere! They flew into his nose, his mouth, and they circled him constantly thanks to his fucking Lure and flashlight eyes! You’d think there would be less bugs because of his Dad’s Drama Storms™ but noooo, not in Florida! In Florida they were everywhere and no amount of water would keep them from fucking up Percy’s day.

Ugh, he needed to find himself a nice little cave and/or cove on the sea, away from all these fucking swamps, so that then he’d have less bugs to deal with…

At least the Alligators were polite, if snooty. They weren’t as great as sharks, but they definitely gave off Dog Energy. The Crocodile he ran into in a particularly salty stretch of swamp, however? Yeah, no, that guy was a dick. Major Cat Vibes, honestly, too smart for his own good and smug because he was bigger than the local ‘gators. Big ass bully and mean as all hell.

Percy was absolutely a Dog Person.

Trudging through the swamps, Percy moodily crunched on the fat, lazy gar he’d scooped up, soothing himself with the loud crunch of bones and cartilage as he went. Gods, he couldn’t wait to find the perfect place to call his new home…

……………………………………..

Percy stared, disbelieving, at the seven Demigods huddled up inside of the little boat-shack he’d claimed for the night. He was deep in swamplands, for fucks sake, how did he keep finding them?! Fucking!

Domain BULLSHIT!

Letting out a slow, controlled breath, Percy pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, ignoring the almost consoling taps of his Lure against the back of his hand as he did so. Okay, okay, okay, fine, alright, so this was gonna become a thing, he guessed.

“You’re safe here for the night,” Percy informed them grumpily, rubbing his face, tugging his scars lightly as he did so. “In the morning, I’ll snag you a boat and send you off to the nearest town or city. I’ll give you a number to call, they’ll send someone to see you to a safe place for Demigods. For now, rest, recover, all that. I’ll grab some fish for you to eat, I guess,” he grumbled to them, getting a cautious, if relieved, nod from the oldest one, a Daughter of Demeter who was somewhere around fifteen, if he had to guess. He squinted at her in particular, suspicious of her easy acceptance, and, as if she could tell what he was thinking, she flushed slightly and lifted her chin.

“I’ve been to Camp before,” she told him stiffly, dark brown eyes daring him to accuse her of something, he didn’t know. “I come home for school during the year… But the weather has Monsters and Demigods both out in higher numbers, ‘cause a lot of Mortals are dying.” Percy grunted in acknowledgement and mentally grumbled about his Dad being so damn Dramatic that he was giving his poor kids and Percy's Better Uncle so much extra work, ugh.

“I’ll be back,” Percy repeated simply, rolling his shoulders and feeling his Rug-Cloak curl around him like a hug, the Mom-Scent strengthening. “Stay inside, you’ll be safe. No Monsters can get in here tonight, at least... Regular animals might, so watch for that, though.” With that, he turned as stalked into the steadily darkening swamp, slipping into the algae-thick water with a grumble. At least here, in the dark green depths of the swamps, the bugs left him the fuck alone.

Too bad it was mostly fresh water or Percy could see himself taking up as a Swamp Cryptid of some sort. He didn’t necessarily mind fresh water, of course, but, well.

He was of the Sea. If he was a kid of his Dad’s Roman self, maybe being a Freshy Cryptid would work out, but, for now, he was as salty as can be, both emotionally and physically!

And metaphorically?

Spiritually?

Eh, whatever, you got the point.

Sighing into the water, Percy let his eyes fall half-lidded as he settled into a deeper section of swamp, making his Lure glow brighter enticingly. Watching as the different freshwater creatures began to swim towards him slowly, Percy flexed his little baby claws in the thick mud and silt of the swamp bottom.

The things he put up with for kids, seriously.

……………………………….

The Demigods had multiplied, he noted blankly as he stood, Lure dim but flashlight-eyes on Full Blast as he stood in the doorway of the little hut. He knows he’s bad at math, don’t get him wrong, but there had definitely only been seven when he had left, like, maybe two hours ago. And now? Now there were definitely fourteen.

Just.

What the fuck?!

Was it because he was a New God? Were his Abilities going ham with extra boost because he was Ascending? Is that what this was? Some kind of, like, New Player Booster Pack or something?!

“What.” He couldn’t even make it a question as he stared at the nervous, frozen group, ignoring the ones who immediately raised weapons at his appearance. Instead, he locked his glowing eyes on the Demeter-girl and just sort of gestured at the room as a whole. “What.” Once again, she lifted her chin in defiance, although now her eyes were distinctly afraid. The young boy who shared her eyes and nose, maybe seven-or-eight-years-old, ducked behind her with a whimper.

“You said we’d be safe here for the night,” she stated sharply, hands clenched into nervous fists. “You said we would.” Percy took a slow breath, reaching up and once again pinching the bridge of his nose. Why the fuck did anyone want kids? Just, why? Babies? Cute, yeah, absolutely, but, serious, what the fuck. Too much work for their own fucking good.

Letting his breath out in a loud, low sigh, Percy just gave his head a shake and decided to just. Go with it.

“I brought food,” he told them, grumpily, gesturing at the large bundle of fish he’d brought back in a couple of plastic bags he’d had to hunt down. He had thought he’d brought too many fish, but apparently, he’d brought back enough… Wait. He squinted at the kids, frowning slightly. “Anyone not eat fish?” There was some shifting bodies and quick glances before one of the girls ‘hidden’ in the back of the group shakily raised a hand.

“I, I’m vegan?” She managed to stutter out; Percy blinked before giving a sharp nod.

“Anyone else?” There was a few more shifts before two more hands went up, both of them boys, one a vegetarian and one just saying fish were gross—which, rude but whatever. Percy just huffed and bobbed his head. “I’ll go scrounge something else for you three and something extra for the rest of you. You,” he stated, pointing at the Demeter-girl sternly. “You’re in charge while I’m gone. Start up a fire or something to cook these, get everyone fed and ready for bed. I’ll be back.” With that, Percy turned and went back into the swamp.

He was not sulking, no, seriously, he wasn’t!

…

Fish were fucking delicious though, fuck picky brats who felt like survival left them options, ugh.

…………………………………..

Percy used his powers to break into a grocery store, ignoring the camera in the corner of the room. He could already see the Mist acting on it, and he could even kinda See what it was showing—which, honestly, showing them a bloody child dressed in rags with a too-big hood to cover his face? Did the Mist like him or not, he honestly couldn’t tell? Ah, well, he shrugged and went straight to the food section, grabbing as much ready-to-eat food as he could, stuffing it all into a couple of canvas bags. He also pre-emptively grabbed a bunch of feminine supplies and first aid items. A group of Demigods this size? With this many teenage or almost-teenage girls? Better safe than sorry, even with his maybe-Blessing of Safe Travel. Shit happens, after all.

As he started out, his eyes caught on a small, old-fashioned oil lamp that was on display in the window. It was old-old looking, and covered in dust and cobwebs, too… And also gleamed in a familiar way as he eyed it. With a hum, Percy grabbed it, hefting it in his hand and wiggling it back and forth a bit, pleasantly surprised to feel it hang, perfectly balanced. Pleased, Percy left the store, cocking his head as he caught the distant sound of police sirens. With a shrug, he turned back to the swamps and once more sank into the water, making sure his collection of goods stayed completely dry and safe from any possible contaminants.

Especially the medical and feminine supplies. Yeah, no, no need for any kind of bacteria on those, that’s for sure.

…………………………….

“What do I call you?” Demeter-girl—Whose name was Lacey DuMoore, he learned, another person he had no recollection of from Before, which was still depressing as fuck—asked him as the Demigods prepared to leave in the rinky-dink fan-boat he’d found abandoned in a marsh. Percy huffed as he turned his eyes away from her large, loam-brown eyes, wet and earnest and grateful, even while still wary. It didn’t help that she towered over his current body, full grown practically by Demigod standards.

Fucking kids, seriously, ugh.

“Do you have to call me anything?” He asked her, annoyed at a particularly persistent wasp that insisted on buzzing around his Lure.

“Yes,” Lacey told him simply, watching him sway in place, eyes following the wasp. Here, in the pale gray light of morning, with lighter rain than all week—mostly because earthquakes were rocking the ground constantly, honestly his Dad—his physical age was even more evident, especially amongst the Demigods. But maybe that was in his favor, because they all got wide-eyed, partially-terrified looks on their faces when they saw him in natural light. They had unanimously shoved Lacey in his direction and, since then, she was the only one to dare coming close to him. And now, here she was.

Sassing him.

“Come up with something, then,” he told her, rolling his eyes a little before, in a sharp lunge, he snapped his needle-like teeth onto the wasp, immediately spitting the now-dead bug out into the water with a pleased little huff, ignoring the wide-eyed, disturbed look the little Vegan Girl gave him from the boat. “If it's something I hate, I’ll tell you so.” The teenager hesitated, before a look of determination came over her face. She peered at him, dark eyes roving over his scarred face, over his Lure, his rug and the freshly grime-free, definitely Celestial Bronze lantern now hooked on his belt. She eyed him, glanced at the little hut they’d stayed in for the night, which no longer gave off the Safe Place vibes it had before, and then she looked at the other Demigods.

“…Thank you, then, Safekeeper,” She declared, nodding seriously, and Percy could only nod back, face blank as he felt a large chunk of his Mortality burn away with the Name. As the Daughter of Demeter climbed onto the boat that would automatically take them to the next safest place so they could call for pick-up, Percy turned away, baby claws clinking softly against the top of his new Lantern, Lure flickering softly with pretty lights.

…Safekeeper of Demigods and Children, huh, he mused, feeling the Title settle into his being, where it pulsed contentedly in the heart of his powers. There are worse things to be, I guess.

With a soft hum, he sank into the waters and returned to his journey along the Florida coastline.

…………………………………

Someone fucking snitched, he thought, genuinely offended as he scowled up at Hermes where the Messenger God was perched on the countertop of the abandoned RV Percy had found for the latest group of Demigods he ran into. He did not appreciate the Messenger’s amused, taunting grin, not one fucking bit, but Percy was a little occupied with little Franklyn, Son of Hypnos, clutching his rug and arm both in his strong, five-year-old hands. The little Demigod hadn’t stopped clinging to him since he’d swooped in and killed the Hellhounds that had cornered him and the two Hermes-kids that had been with him…

Which, actually, was probably why Hermes himself showed up, now that he thought about it. The two girls, Abby and Heather—ages ten and thirteen, respectively, and siblings in Truth, just like the Stolls—were definitely old enough to have made it to Camp at least once, which meant that they’d probably prayed to their Dad after Percy had gotten them fed, bandaged up, and settled in for the night. Apparently, however, little Franklyn was afraid of the dark, so Percy had made his Lure sway and pulse with soft, soothing colors and now he had a limpet attached to him.

“Well, I’m gonna be honest here, kiddo,” Hermes spoke up finally, grin impish and amused and teasing as he pulled out his Caduceus-phone and tapping on the screen rapidly. “When my girls here prayed to me about you, I was prepared to find them trapped by some Monster. Instead, I find one of Uncle P’s kids playing babysitter to Demigods. How did that happen?” Percy scowled up at him, feeling his flashlight-eyes flare in irritation at the audacity of the Messenger God as he blatantly took a picture of the baby-trapped Percy, who immediately bared his needle-teeth at him in response.

“Go. Away,” Percy hissed at the God, beyond irritated and helpless to do anything about it, because there are rules, okay. If a baby, puppy, or cat fell asleep on you, you couldn’t get up, alright, he didn’t make the rules they just were.

“And miss out on this? Not a chance,” Hermes chortled at him, turning around and taking a fucking selfie of the three of them, probably all five of them to be honest, with his daughters passed out on the bed behind Percy. “Besides, you never answered my question, little cousin! How did one of Uncle P’s baby-Monsters get stuck on Babysitting detail? Shouldn’t you all be trying to find that missing kid of his?” Percy scowled, only to twitch as little Franklyn whined softly in his sleep. Immediately, Percy stilled, head bowing over the boy, Lure gently flickering rainbow colors as it swayed on his head. Immediately, the little boy settled again with a soft, happy sigh, and even the two girls behind Percy seemed to relax in response, settling deeper into sleep. Percy and Hermes both waited for several long moments before the Ascending-Demigod huffed out a slow breath.

“Demigods and Monsters are climbing out of the woodwork right now,” he muttered at Hermes, scowling even as he tugged more of his rug over the little boy, pulling him carefully over to rest more against his thigh. “With the way the weather’s been, someone has to look out for all the lost kids.” Immediately, the little lamp that he’s grown so fond of glows gently, warmly, filling the room with the comfort and safety of his Domain, and Percy shook his head a bit, making his wavy black hair flop about along with his Lure. He sent a scowl at the Messenger God, needle-teeth bared. “I am the Safekeeper of Demigods and Children. This is literally my job, thank you very much.” He made sure that the unspoken I’m doing my job Unlike SOMEONE was very clear in his tone; Hermes snorted and shook his head with another grin before hopping off his perch and twiddling his fingers at Percy.

“Well, keep up the good work! I’ll let Uncle P know that one of his kids is picking up some of the extra slack when it comes to everyone else’s kids, y’know, once he chills a bit because wow he is not happy right now. Catch you later, little cousin!” And, with that, Hermes was gone, leaving behind three backpacks stuffed with goodies for the Demigods, and a little stuffed anglerfish.

What a dick, ugh.

…

The plushy was cute as fuck, though…

……………………………

Little Franklyn clung to the anglerfish stuffie like it was his whole world, snuffling and wide-eyed and doleful as he waved at Percy from the little fishing boat Percy had gotten for the three of them, the two girls waving bye to him as well as they pulled away from him, close enough to the sea he’d gotten them a nice, swift, and relatively straight-line toward Camp. And you bet your ass he’d made that boat as safe as he could, Blessing and all, so his Dad’s temper tantrum wouldn’t touch them.

I’m so fucking over this, he thought grumpily as he turned and stomped his way along the beach, scooping up bits of trash as he went, absently stuffing it into his new, crocodile-skin canvas bag, a little smug every time his claws dragged across it. Not so fucking smug now, are you? He mentally asked the bag, grinning a little to himself as he went.

He was almost to the perfect place. He could feel it.

(He’d find a new anglerfish stuffie in that bag, when he next went to open it to empty the trash in a recycle bin. Hermes was such a fucking dick, ugh.)

Notes:

Hermes: UwU what's this?
Percy: Perish.

ALSO:
Special Kudos to Prissy3474 for being the Only one to guess Anglerfish Lure!
Special Kudos to Frozen_Stardust for that pretty video you linked in your comment, it inspired Percy making his Lure change colors! Also for the comment on Percy growing a horn instead of an eye and calling himself a Unicorn bc that shit made me cackle lol

IN THIS HOUSE WE THROW HANDS WITH HERACLES FUCK THAT BITCH I hate that hoe XC

Chapter 4: Chapter Three: Percy VS Florida: Round Two!

Notes:

Demigods: (Exist)
Percy: wtf wtf wtF WTF
Percy: WHERE ARE YOU PARE--
Percy:
Percy: Nevermind, here's a sandwich and a blanket, I've got you.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The Lighthouse Keeper

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

.Chapter Three.

Percy VS Florida: Round Two!

……………………………………

Percy finally, for the most part, left the worst of the swamplands behind him and, thank the Gods, the bugs with them. Instead, the sprawling, Human-filled cities took over, and with them one of his least favorite things.

Pollution.

Grimacing as he used his claws to, once again, cut plastic off of a grateful seal’s neck, Percy grumbled darkly to himself as he patted the sweet thing on the head and sent it off, its injuries negligible. He moved on to the next, neatly moving through the rest of the rookery of seals, plucking fishing hooks and line and other human-made snares off them as he went. It was a never-ending cycle, unfortunately, especially here, so close to such a large city. Miami was warmer and more open than New York, but they made up for it with their fucking garbage. New Yorkers may pick a fight with you over a cigarette and stab you over a dollar-fifty, but at least they wouldn’t feed seagulls rat poison tablets and laugh as they fucki-ng died while a crowd stood around and did nothing but take pictures and video it while complaining...

…Percy may have upped his Mortal Death Count by three, after witnessing that, he’ll be honest. But not even Before-Annabeth would have blamed him! And, besides, it’s not like it could be traced back to him or anything! That peer had been holding on by a prayer with all the shit his Dad was throwing around, it was honestly a miracle it hadn’t collapsed before then! And how could he have known that a pregnant and starving Pygmy Sea Serpent had been resting in the rocks under it?

…All he had done is light up his Lure…

…And… Maybe used his powers to wash the dock away…

But nothing that could be proven!

Huffing at the memory, mildly smug even as he carefully worked his claws under a tight bit of twine, Percy crooned lowly in his throat at the seal pup as she whined at him with large, wet eyes while he worked. With a soft snick, the twine snapped and he tugged it away gently, patting the seal as she nuzzled happily against him, wriggling like a puppy under his hands until her mother barked at her to get moving. Percy smiled to himself, ignoring the tug of his scars. Seals were cute, cuter than most kids, honestly, except the really young ones, of course.

Straightening up, Percy moved along, continuing his slow, steady track down the beach, his footprints disappearing from behind him after a few steps.

……………………………..

For the first time since he gained his Domain, Percy found himself standing between a Demigod and a Mortal. And it wasn’t the Mortal he was protecting. The mortal was a man, sleazy and tall with large hands and a cruel leer, peering down at Percy like he was prey as the Daughter of Ares behind him shuddered and tugged her torn shirt back into place with gritted teeth and teary, furious eyes. Percy stared at the Mortal, slowly tilting his head, before glancing over his shoulder at the girl. She was maybe ten, maybe eleven. Possibly old enough to have been to Camp, but maybe not.

Another face he didn’t know.

Was it really so fucking hard to keep kids alive? Were the Gods just competing in some fucked up game to see who had the higher dead-baby count? It sure as fuck felt that way.

“Are you listening, little boy?!” The Mortal snapped; Percy turned his head back around and tilted it like a curious dog, before his Lure began to pulse and glow, a silent Siren’s Song, and the Mortal’s face swiftly went slack and dumb, eyes gaining the same glow as his Lure. Nodding to himself, Percy turned around and dug in his crocodile bag for a spare shirt that would fit the older-in-body girl. He handed it to her without flinching from her snarl, holding her eyes without judgement or scorn or pity. She snatched the shirt from him and he glanced off to the side, absently peering around the empty warehouse around them thoughtfully.

“What’d you do to him?” Ares-girl finally muttered, drawing Percy’s attention again. She lifted her chin, mouth set in a sneer and arms crossed over her chest in challenge and defense all together.

“Just a bit of hypnotism, at the moment,” he told her easily, shrugging his shoulders, feeling his rug tighten around his shoulders like hands, comforting and encouraging together, his Mom’s Scent filling his nose. “I figure I’d save him for your Dad to deal with.” The girl eyed him, rolling her jaw a bit, no doubt the joints were sore from clenching it as hard as she was.

“…Dad’ll make it hurt, right?” She asked him, and Percy let a smile too wide for his little, scarred face stretch, anglerfish-and-moray teeth on full display, meeting the girl’s eyes steadily.

“Absolutely,” he assured her; sniffing smartly, the girl nodded and stomp-limped passed him, sneering at the swaying Mortal with a vicious, teeth-bared sort of hate that Percy could absolutely understand. “Take a left outside the door,” he called after her easily, cocking his head and making his Lure bounce a bit as her shoulders tightened. “The warehouse next to this one is Safe from Monsters and Mortals alike for the next twenty-four hours. There are another couple of Demigods already over there.” She hesitated, then gave him a jerky nod and disappeared out the door.

Percy didn’t even have to invoke the God’s name before Ares was stepping out from behind him. Percy cast him a narrow-eyed look, the War Gods’ stupid, smug and oh-so-punchable face immediately raising his hackles. Ares leered down at him, his fiery eyes glowing over the rims of his sunglasses; Percy’s own flashlight eyes glowed just as brightly in response, his mouth stretching inhumanely wide, teeth once more on display. His heart pounded in his chest the way he remembered the war drums in New Rome did during the Third war and his fingertips ached, fingers flexing as he longed to dig his talons in.

Rip and Tear, O’ Dogs of War.

“Thanks for holding on to this piece of roadkill for me, pipsqueak,” Ares drawled out, still peering down at Percy and he really needed to back the fuck up or Percy might just take a swing for old times sake.

“I’m already putting in extra work since everyone seems to be dropping the ball when it comes to their kids,” Percy sneered back at him, teeth aching to bite. “I don’t need to be adding to my workload by doing anyone any favors. Clean up your fucking mess.” Ares lips pulled back, serrated, gleaming tusks unfolding from the corners, the rest of his teeth sharpening into fangs more on par with a rabid dog than a boar.

“You wanna fuckin’ fight, Pipsqueak?” The War God rumbled, making Percy’s blood pound with the eager call for gratuitous violence. “I’m sure I can add to that pretty face of yours if you’re askin’ so nicely.” Percy’s mouth slid open, jaw unhinging like a snake as a crocodilian hiss rumbled out of his throat. The burning ache of his dissolving Mortality pulsed painfully hot in his chest, another Aspect of his powers clawing its way into place, even as the sudden rustle of wings and a sharp, cold breeze blasted through the warehouse and between them.

“Easy there, you two!” Hermes coaxed, smiling bemusedly as he stood between them, a hand on Percy’s head and one pressed firmly to Ares chest. “Ares, you know better than to pick on the babies, and with how pissed Uncle P already is, do you really wanna see how many of your kids end up drowning in response to you picking on one of his brats?” Ares scowled, but pulled back, reluctantly, and with the motion, Percy’s voracious need for violence backed down too.

“And you have more important things to do than getting into fights with people outside your weight-class, little cousin,” Hermes told him, using the hand on his head to ruffle his hair, earning a low, crocodilian hiss of his own before Percy forcefully re-hinged his jaw and pulled his mouth into a more Human-shape.

“Whatever,” he grumbled, huffing and pulling his head away from Hermes hand, scowling as he reached up and flicked his hair back into its proper, wavy-floppy mess. He flicked his eyes back over to the still-hypnotized Mortal and dismissed him just as quickly. Mortals were so very susceptible to Godly Powers. Unless Percy or another God freed him, the man would stay as he was, standing in one place, completely comatose, until he eventually starved to death.

If the Mortal had pissed off literally any other God, Percy would even have suggested it, but because it was Ares, like hell was he going to offer the War God any sort of assistance beyond what he already did.

“I’ve got kids to take care of,” he muttered, flicking his Lure dismissively at the two Gods as he stalked away, scowling. He pointedly ignored Ares’ mocking comment about being a prissy princess or whatever the fuck he said. Let Hermes deal with his brother.

Dicks, the lot of them. Probably the most common trait Zeus passed onto his kids was his fucking ego, right next to being manwhores…

Except for Artemis. Of all his children, Percy had the least issues with her, honestly. She got a bad rep with a lot of Demigods thanks to Zoë’s—understandable—trauma-driven Man-Hate, but not once has Artemis ever fucked Percy over… On purpose.

Shaking his head, Percy paused as Hermes appeared next to him just as he was about to enter the Safe Space he’d claimed for the day for the Demigods. Percy peered up at him with a scowl, only to sputter in shocked offence as the mischievous God threw another anglerfish plushy into his face before disappearing with teasing laughter. Scowling fiercely, Percy snatched the plushy off the ground, glaring at the soft toy. It was dark red and had an angry face on it.

…

He was such a dick, UGH!

Scowling, Percy shoved the toy into his satchel and stomped into the warehouse, grumpily approaching the seven Demigods he’d collected there. As he fussed over the group, handing out snacks and water bottles as he went, grumpily letting tiny, baby Samantha-of-Hecate cling to his pantleg, Percy examined the newest Aspect—no, Aspects—in his Domain, ignoring the acidic burn of yet another piece of his tiny Mortality.

Reckless Battle and Vengeance Against Abusers…

Yeah. That checked out.

………………………………

Apparently, he had been assigned the numbers Three, Seven, Eleven, and Fourteen as well, he discovered exasperatedly as he handed out blankets to the latest batch of Demigods. Every group he’d found were either in those numbers or were those ages, and with little-to-no exception. Also possible something with young girls, since a multitude of those he found were girls, which was so fucking depressing because he was positive most didn’t make it to Camp or at least didn’t make it back in the Before.

What the ever loving fuck were the Gods doing?! It wasn’t that damn hard to protect your fucking kids! You didn’t even need to directly interfere—although that was still a stupid as fuck Law in Percy’s opinion—You could just do what Percy did! Blessings for Safe Travel, giving them supplies and a Safe Resting Place! Hell, weave the Mist around them like Tyson had had, make it hard for Monsters to even perceive them until they were a certain age!

Lazy! Reckless!

Unimaginative!

Dionysus spent more time trying to get out of work at the Camp than the Gods did at keeping an eye on their kids altogether!

Percy continued to disparage the Gods under his breath and in his head as he hefted yet another toddler into his arms and carried her as he led the way to a new Place of Rest for the latest group of three away from a Monster Nest—fucking Mormolyce and their stupid fucking Child Traps, ugh.

By the time they reached the abandoned shipping container, four more Demigods joined them.

Seriously! What were the Gods doing?!

………………………………….

Percy was under a dock helping a shark with a net stuck on its head when it happened. His latest Resting Place, filled with Demigods—because of fucking course it was­—Was under attack. The Children were Calling For Him.

A rage unlike anything he’s ever felt filled his chest and, with a flash of light and a burn through most of the miniscule amount of Mortality he had left, Percy disappeared from the water and reappeared before the Interlopers, back to the door. Behind him, hidden inside, the Children were crying. They were scared.

They Were. Not. SAFE.

In an instant, Percy’s mouth split open wide, from ear-to-ear, with unhinged jaw and glinting fangs, his eyes glowing unnaturally bright, like spotlights made of gold, and his Lure swayed slowly, pulsing with sickly-sweet light, a Siren’s Song to call his enemies closer so that he may feast upon their entrails and—

Well. The seven Laestrygonians who had thought they could get a free meal were not expecting anything like Percy. They sure as fuck knew better now, though. Them and every other stupid fucking Monster out there.

Good.

……………………………..

Percy found it.

He found the perfect place.

In a small, rocky bay, where the sand was coarse and silty instead of pretty and smooth, hidden by cliffs and protected from the wind by thick, ugly boulders, there sat an old, copper statue of a Lighthouse, standing on its own in the center of the water, on a jutting, square-ish stone. A Memorial for those Lost at Sea, for those who crashed or ran aground into the dangerous reefs and rocks just off shore. It was tarnished from time and water, slick with algae and its base studded with barnacles from the high tide. At one point, the light actually worked, although it had been years and years since then, from what he could tell.

It was perfect.

Percy laid claim to the bay there, wrapping it in his power and settling into an underwater cave directly beneath the Lighthouse, which started once more glowing its gentle, warm yellow light the moment his power settled…

At the same time, the tiny speck of his Mortality burned away as well.

When the light of his Complete Ascension faded, Percy sighed, long and low and relieved. The slow, aching burn of Mortality had been a constant, consistent pain since he’d come Back. Like the itch of a healing bone or the pulsing ache of a knocked shin. And now, it was finally gone, and Percy could breathe. But not just because of the pain being gone.

He'd done it.

He was no longer the Prophesy Child.

The strangling noose of Fate’s Threads were torn away from him, cut away like the tangles of fishing line he cut off the seals.

He.

Was.

Free.

And with his Ascension, he knew his Domains in Full.

All hail Perseus Jackson, the Safekeeper of Demigods and Children, God of Reckless Battle and Deep Waters, Vengeance Against Abusers and Guide to the Lost. The God of Safe Rest. Protector of the Home. Champion of Children. Messenger of Worried Parents. The Kind Hand for the Helpless. His Sacred Animals are Anglerfish, Eels, Alligators, Crocodiles, and Seagulls. His Numbers are Three, Seven, Eleven, and Fourteen. His Symbols are the Lantern and the Lighthouse.

Settling into the cool depths of his cave, feeling his Rug hold him tenderly, Percy sighed in contentment.

Finally.

…………………………

Of course, the moment he settles in, is when Hermes shows up with an Emergency Summons to Olympus to all of Poseidon’s Godly Children, in order to discuss their Father’s actions and force him to stand down.

Thanks, Dad.

Notes:

Ares: Sup, you literal child
Percy: I WILL EAT YOUR UGLY FACE
Ares: BRING IT BRAT
Hermes: Ares, nooo, stahp, he baby~!
Percy: (Feral Creature sounds)
~*~
NOTE! The Lighthouse Memorial doesn't actually exits down in Florida, as far as I know. If u wanna know generally where Percy set up home, its a non-existent bay somewhere between Miami Beach and Cape Sable.

So basically smack dab between Open Sea, The Everglades, and Miami/Humanity, so he has easy access to all of his Domains! Speaking of, what do you guys think of them?? Let me know!

Special Kudos to:

ConsentDracula: Your comment made me laugh, especially the 3 peanuts part, lmao!

koa_dalessi: That reference is absolutely him and also adorable, and you're right: He is absolutely a "Save Point" Guide in Hero's Journeys lol so of course he never dies XD

DAsObiQuiet: Your comment just made me laugh bc all I could think of is grumpy old man Percy showing up when called and being like "LET ME GET OFF YOUR LAWN, YOU DAMN KIDS!" lol!

And finally. Hallowtide!: YES. YES THAT IS HIM! Only Poseidon is quivering before him trying not to laugh bc this grumpy tiny child is just too CUTE and the other guy in the Vine is totally Hermes being a lil shit lmao!!
(I seriously want someone to draw that as an animatic now lmfaooooo)

I'll see you all next chapter!

Chapter 5: Chapter Four: Just Your Typical Olympian Family Reunion (Part 1)

Notes:

Percy: (Exists)
Sea Gods: (Seagull Impressions) MINE! MINE! MINE!
Percy: FFS (Hiss)

  ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The Lighthouse Keeper

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

.Chapter Four.

Just Your Typical Olympian Family Reunion (Part 1_)

……………………………………

Olympus was just a beautiful and pretentious as he remembered it being, Percy noted as Hermes dropped him off in the middle of the market-road, winking at him and fluttering away with a laugh. Scowling, Percy tugged his Rug closer, grumbling to himself as he ignored the numerous Godly and Immortal eyes that watched him with curiosity. The few adult Demigods that either lived or worked there barely gave him more than a glance before continuing on, no doubt used to random, inhuman appearances with how, well, Eldritch some of the Gods chose to look, or maybe just assuming he was some sort of Immortal, what did he know? Percy tried to visit Olympus only when summoned and that was it.

The gills that had grown onto his neck in response to his emotions flared with a mix of anxiety and annoyance as he started towards the Olympian’s Hall. He hated being in Olympus. It was so obviously high in the sky, and the water here was either Claimed by other Gods and Spirits or in public places where everyone and their sister could come and stare at him if he was there. It was dry and too clean and cold in the way snow was but without the wet and just—

Yeah.  

Percy fucking hated it here.

Cold and grumpy and anxious, ugh, Percy got to the doors of Zeus fucking palace. Unwilling to drag it out, he settled for giving a stiff, short nod to the Horae that opened the doors for him with a bored expression. One that belayed the agitated flicking of the luscious, sleek goose wings that decorated her back, her fellow Horae eying their surroundings as if preparing for an attack, or for the weather to suddenly turn…

Well.

Considering what he’d been summoned for, Percy supposed he couldn’t blame them. Still, he offered no verbal greetings, and they didn’t even ask him for his name, barely glancing over his obviously sea-based looks and just, sending him in…

Well, it wasn’t like there was anyone with balls big enough to just walk into Zeus Palace to pick a fight, so it probably made sense, with the Sea Deities getting summoned… Although, it absolutely made Percy want to start something. Maybe do something petty… Like shift all of Zeus’s statues of himself one inch to the left or something…

Thinking about which statues he’d shift and which paintings he’d tilt just so, helped Percy keep a straight, blank face as he slipped into the Courtyard where those seeking to speak to the Olympian Council or those summoned were to mingle. He’d though he would either be the very last to arrive, or maybe there’d already be many different Children of Poseidon gathered…

He didn’t ever expect to be the first fucking one there?! Not even any of the Olympians were there! What the fuck?! Just, what?! If this was how they treated their fucking security risks, no fucking wonder an actual child managed to get his hands on Zeus stupid ass Lightning Bolt!

‘Oh, Luke was a fantastic thief! Really took after Hermes Domain! That’s how he got the Bolt!’

Bullshit!

Fuck a duck, this was fucking ridiculous, Percy honestly felt kind of offended that they just did this. Like? He knew Zeus had the biggest fucking ego outside of Narcissus but for fucks sake! Shaking his head, utterly bewildered, Percy made a beeline for the most comfortable part of the room, settling immediately before Hestia’s large, softly crackling Hearth, letting the Warmth of it seep into his skin and settle there. Immediately, his gills sank back into his neck, and the ache of his jaw relaxed once more. Humming softly, pleased, he settled there on the thick, cushioned rug, placing his Lantern to the side, where it lit up and began to pulse with the exact same Warmth and Welcome and Promise of Safety.

Between heartbeats, he was no longer alone, his Favorite Olympian appearing next to him as if she had always been there, wearing her child Form and smiling at him softly. Percy offered her a half-smile of his own, the Warmth of her Hearth making even the tightness of his scars negligible. Back in the Before, Percy had always wondered at how warm-yet-simplistic Hestia preferred to look, but now, as a God himself, he realized how much the Gods hid of Themselves. Hestia’s hair was the warm, reddish-brown of firewood and freshly baked bread. Her skin was the color of marble, and beneath it, flickers of fire caught the eye, like the hearth reflected from within. Her veil was a deep brown, like freshly turned earth, and her eyes and nails were both glowing, flickering embers. Her hands were dusted with soot that moved into different shapes the longer he watched. And now, even her presence, already steady and strong in the Before, was even more present here, brighter and warmer and filling the air so that every breath made something tight in Percy relax.

Fuck, he had missed her without even realizing she was something to miss.

The two Gods settled there, side-by-side, two seeming children enjoying the silence and comfort of one another in an unthinking, familial way. You would think they were actually siblings, twins even, but, realistically, it was something far deeper than even that. Here, where Mortal Forms took a background presence, their Divinity lit up the space around them, and filled the empty space with their very Inner Selves.

Home Keeper and Home Protector, two Beings Joined by the very Necessity of their Existence. Two Souls that stood, side-to-side and back-to-back, Guarding one another. The absolute, unshakeable Trust that ricocheted between their Beings that left with them an unfathomable Understanding.

In this lifetime, they had never met, and only thanks to the Before did Percy know the other’s name, but, despite centuries and lifetimes between them, they Knew the Other.

“Hello,” Hestia greeted him, soft and warm and aching, achingly joyful; Percy’s half-smile twisted into a bright grin against his will, not that he would have ever denied Hestia the expression, anyways.

Fuck, he had missed Her—

“Hi,” he whispered back, just a warm and kind and joyful, and the Goddesses own smile lit up, a bright grin that lit her flaming eyes into an inferno, his own flashlight-eyes turning neon-bright, his Lure swinging and sparkling with glee as they grinned at one another like they had just heard the greatest thing ever. Even the fire in the hearth beside them joined in, flaring brighter and larger, flames dancing with giddy joy, mimicked by the Hearthfire beneath Hestia’s skin.

Hestia turned and reached into her Hearth with bare hands, the Hearthfire under her skin flaring hot-and-bright, before suddenly she was pulling from the flames a simple, clay plate, which had a pile of fresh-from-the-oven cookies. Their dough was a dark, honey-gold, dotted with sparkling gold chips of Nectar, and the smell of them had Percy’s mouth flooding with saliva. She offered him the plate, and Percy took it wordlessly, eagerly even because he had and probably always would be weak to a good cookie.

Without a thought, however, he set it gently on the ground between them, earning a short, surprised blink from Hestia. In a moment, Percy had scooted closer so that their shoulders brushed, and, with an impish grin, untucked his Rug and tossed half of it around Hestia’s shoulders, so they were cuddled beneath it like two little kids under a quilt.

Her reaction was instant.

“Oh,” she breathed, flame-filled eyes huge and stunned, as the Love and Support of Percy’s Mom wrapped around them like a hug, gentle and loving and as all-encompassing as the Sky, as uncompromising as the Sea, as steady and strong as the Earth. The Goddess swayed a little, blinking rapidly as she brusher gentle, shivering fingertips over the tangled tassels at the end of the Rug where it set like a weighted blanket over her. A single, overwhelmed tear slid down her youthful cheek, glittering enchantingly with silver light, heartbreaking and awe-inspiring at once. Percy smiled at her, soft and kind and understanding, because, seriously, he understood. Gently, tenderly, he wiped away her tear, ignoring the way it tingled in his hand like the purest type of untainted spring water did, and Hestia closed her eyes and buried her face in the fold of his Rug with a shiver, skin glowing brighter than before, Hearthfire roaring into a blaze in wonder-filled ecstasy beneath her skin, making her into a living (if not breathing) lantern.

To give her a moment to just bask in the wonderfulness that was the Imprint of Sally Jackson’s Love, Percy scooped up the topmost cookie, admiring the fact it was that perfect, freshly baked texture, and promptly shoved it in his mouth—

Rapture.

Nirvana.

Ascension.

If the Rug held an Imprint of his Mom’s Love in the form of a Hug, then the cookies taste encapsulated the entirety of what it meant for her to call you Family. It was Hope and Love and Welcome and Fondness and Exasperation and Worry and Confidence. It was Home and Family and a slow, curling Warmth that burned away any worry and fear and anxiety. It was Safety and Welcome and Stay For A While.

It was…

It was Home.

Percy didn’t even realize he’d closed his eyes until a soft, warm hand touched his cheek, making him slowly open them to stare into Hestia’s burning, gentle eyes, overwhelmed. The Goddess pulled her hand away, and he realized she had wiped a tear of his own away, a glittering, shimmering thing that shone with the same light as his Lure. The two Gods of Home shared tremulous, aching smiles, their shoulders pressing together more firmly as they scooted closer. Hestia nuzzled into his Rug and the next cookie Percy picked up, he split in half, handing her an even share of the delight.

Behind them, the Olympian Council Hall gleamed and glowed with warmth and a sweet, soundless Song of Welcome.

As the two cuddled and drowned themselves in the Heart of their mixed-yet-shared Domains, they were utterly unhindered by the steady arrival of the many, many different Sea Deities that called Poseidon Father. Why would they be bothered?

After all, they were all Family.

………………………………………

At some point, Percy realized they had dozed off, glutted on the feeling of Home and Family and Safety, because one moment they were cuddling and the next someone was poking him in the cheek with a sharp nail. With a gargling hiss of a sleepy, well-fed alligator, Percy snapped at the finger with his too-sharp teeth, half-hearted but already grumpy at being disturbed. Next to him, Hestia let out a low hum, sleepily content and radiating a steady, strong Warmth.

“Aw, don’t be like that, Little Brother!” A woman’s voice cooed at him, making Percy scowl immediately, even as he forced his eyes open, blinking blearily as he did. “I don’t remember having such a cute baby brother! And I thought I’d been to most of Father’s Monster-kid’s births, especially the ones that belong in the Depths!” Turning his head, realizing absently that his head had been on Hestia’s shoulder, he scowled sleepily at the fascinated, grinning face of Kymopoleia. She was just as tall and pale and pretty as he remembered her from Before, but without the safe-for-Mortals shell and definitely less strained, no doubt having spent the entirety of their Dad’s Tantrum having the time of her life. Her eyes were even the same blue-gray, and yet they really weren’t.

Now, they were the blue, greens, grays, and whites of a trapped Hurricane, no longer contained within her iris but encompassing the entirety of her eyes, flickers of lightning and shipwrecks and flung debris glittering across the ever-moving mass. Her pupils were the only still part of her gaze, a tight, small circle of perfect sky-blue, the Eye of her Eye, as it was. Her luminescent, white jellyfish hair was floating around her in non-existing water, tints of pinks and blues shimmering in the near translucent tentacle-strands that were swaying around enticingly, as if hungering for some unsuspecting fish to swim too closely.

In response, his Lure lit up, flickering and swaying in time with her hair, an unsung duet of patient predators that seriously didn’t match their owners’ personalities. Immediately, Kymopoleia cooed at him, utterly delighted, and Percy bared his fangs with a throaty hiss, instinctively warning her off as she reached to touch him again. She was all but radiating the same energy doting old aunts did with young children they thought cute, all cheek-pinches and forced-feeding, but also absolutely giving off Shit-Stirring Sibling Vibes. The kind that chanted ‘I’m Not Touching You!’ while just the right distance away to get away with it.

“Oh, no wonder I haven’t met you!” She declared gleefully, grinning sharp teeth at him with fascination. “You must be less than a millennia! It took centuries for Rhode to stop laughing like a dolphin and Proteus to not bark like his seals! Oh, you are so cute!” Like the storms she commanded, Kymopoleia spun away from him, darting into the large group of Sea Gods that had gathered while he’d been dozing. Grumpy still, Percy sat himself up properly, yawning as Hestia stretch with a pleased hum, the two of them making eye contact and offering small smiles.

Then, Kym was back, dragging with her three other Goddesses and a God—literally, in the God’s case. Percy is pretty sure he’s seen two of the Goddesses in the Before, during an event at Atlantis, but the other and the God he knows he never met. Before he could consider that (so fucking depressing, how many names and faces he was learning and relearning and never knew he should have known—), Kym had dropped the God and scooped Percy up and away from his comfortable seat, swinging him forward and holding him out to the others with a shit-eating grin, the massive Goddess reenacting the Lion King with Percy as Simba.

“Look at him!” Kym cheerfully ordered as Percy scowled thunderously at the others, who peered at him in curiosity, even the God—who was getting back to his feet with a tired sigh. “He hasn’t gotten a hold of his Animals yet, so he even does that cute mimicry thing!” And then she had the audacity to shake him. Gently, sure, but it didn’t stop his immediately reptilian snarl as he twisted in her hold, as slippery as the Eels that belonged to him, snapping his teeth at her fingers in retaliation. Her startled yelp made the watching God laugh and earned snorts and giggles form the Goddesses, even as Percy skittered out of Kymopoleia’s reach and tugged his Rug firmly around his shoulder with a scowl thunderous enough to belong to Zues, his scars pulling tight as he glared.

“Serves you right, Kym,” the God told her as the Storm Goddess pouted at Percy, her hurricane-eyes glittering with mischief. Percy turned his scowl on the God, taking him in as the other Immortal shook his head. He was handsome in the way all of Poseidon’s humanoid sons were, classical and Greek, with sharp nose and chiseled jaw. A statue brought to life, if, y’know, it wasn’t for the very-much-not-­humanoid parts. In this case, the God’s eyes were too round, wet and slightly bulging like a seal, and his skin was decidedly rubbery in texture, with no pores or body hair besides the dark gray mane on his head that was tied back with a headband of seaweed. He didn’t even have eyebrows or eyelashes that Percy could see, and his hands, when the God lifted them, were longer than a human’s, more flipper than hand, his feet matching in their seaweed-and-reed sandals.

“Proteus is right, Kym,” one of the Goddesses scolded their Storm-sister gently, smiling at Percy even as her coral-colored eyes peered at him with curiosity. She had dark, dark bronze skin, covered in tiny fish scales, with hins of stripes decorating her cheeks and arms, darkening to dark, charcoal-colored marks on her hands, like gloves. Her hair, tied back in tight rows of braids, were decorated in clips made from coral and an anemone, alive and thriving, sat at the back of her head, holding the majority of her hair back.

“But Benti~!” Kymopoleia complained childishly, before flashing a sharp smile as Percy rolled his eyes at her. “He’s just too cute!”

“And obviously not wanting to be touched,” Benti—who Percy figured was probably Benthesikyme, Goddess and Queen of the Ethiopian Seas—chided their larger sister gently, making the Storm-Goddess huff playfully, her jellyfish hair twisting around her like waving fingers as she sent Percy a wink. “Did you even bother introducing yourself before you started tossing him about?”

“Of course I did!” Kymopoleia stated, before pausing and thinking about it. “Of course I am, right now!’ And then, like a sudden squall, she was once more in his fucking face, hurricane-eyes bright with that same impish gleam, sharp teeth on display and the scent of ozone and rain filling his nose. “I’m your big sister, Kymopoleia! Call me Kym!” Percy stared at her, scowling silently, feeling his ears shift into spiked, webbed fins as they slowly pressed back against the side of his head in irritation. Kym was pulled back and out of his face before either he or she could act—him with teeth and her with sharp claws.

“I’m Proteus,” the seal-like God told him with an exasperated sigh and a half-wave, even as he used a shepherd’s hook made of coral and fishing nets to keep Kym back.

“Benthesikyme,” Benti introduced herself, smile mild and gentle and coral-eyes still staring at him with interest, the anemone on her head flexing out, as if hunting for prey.

“Rhode,” one of the other two Goddess introduced herself, skin the color of sand—no, made from sand—gleaming with freckles made of miniscule seashells. Her hair was black and hung in ringlets pinned back out of her eyes by living roses. Her eyes the blue of the warmer parts of the sea, pupilless but broken by random flashes of white—seafoam on crashing waves. “And this is Aethusa!”

“I can introduce myself, Rhode,” Aethusa sighed in fond exasperation, rolling her eyes as she crossed her arms and cocked a hip. She looked the most humanoid out of the group of them, tan skinned and black-haired… But her eyes were blank, empty pools of water, murky and dark blue, like staring into the depths of a lagoon. Her eyelashes, also, were different in that they looked like tiny pieces of algae clinging to the edges of her eyelids.

“There, see, we’re all introduced!” Kym declared impatiently, flashing those sharp teeth as she lifted Proteus into the air by his shepherd’s hook, ignoring his quiet curses that sounded like burbling streams as his flipper-feet kicked at the air in an instinctive, swimming motion. “Now! What’s your name, Baby?!”

Percy stared at her, eyes half-lidded and scowl still in place as he considered his options… But honestly, it wasn’t like he had to keep hiding. He’d already Ascended, after all. What were the Fate’s gonna do? UN-Ascend? Yeah, no.

So, instead of lying or coming up with some excuse, he bared his teeth in a smile at his Godly Siblings (Or, at least, the five right here, there were a lot of others in the room, several glancing over at their group curiously), and opened his mouth to answer—

“SILENCE!”

When Zeus decided to finally show the fuck up, and with him, all the other Olympians.

Joy.

(Dick.)

Notes:

Hestia: Exists.
Percy: Exists
Both of them: Vibe Check, Passed! (Snuggles & Cuddles Initiated)

~*~*~*~*~

Kym: (Radiating Little Shit Energy HARD)
Percy:
Percy: (Radiates Little Shit Energy HARDER)
Kym: Challenge Accepted!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
And so, the First Part of the Family Reunion starts! I actually had most of this written out days ago but, um, got sucked into reading "A Family Built on the Weary" series by DustShattersLikeGlass and...may have... Binged all 14 fics in one go.
Yeaaah..... WORTH!! (HIGHLY recommend)

Anyways! I hope y'all liked the descriptions for the Gods we've met so far! Percy keeps getting distracted by his new Godly Vision and Sea Gods are Especially Extra lol. Proteus is Poseidon's Seal-Herder, and Aethusa is the daughter of a Pleiad (And Atlas' Granddaughter hmm).

Anyways, On to the Special Mentions!
Special Kudos to etherealmn: The parts of your Review about Chiron had me giggling, so thank you for that!
Special Kudos to Frostpuck: Some things are written into Percy's DNA. Throwing hands with Ares/Mars is one of those things, lol
Special Kudos to echosvoice: He absolutely choses Kindness. Same with the above, much like Throwing Hands he also Offers Hands. Its even part of his Domains now, lol!
Special Kudos to JackUzumaki: You get it, lol. Even just looking at the Riordan Wiki on Poseidon he has SO MANY NAMED CHILDREN and that's not even ALL of them, depending on the myth!
Special Kudos to Warrior_of_Words: Well, it wasn't a beer but Kym sure is trying lol!

Special Kudos to Thetentativescribbler: I answered your review already but for those who don't read the comments: Hermes & Ares not recognizing Percy as the Demigod or making that connections is broken down into these main bits: 1, Percy's obv not a Demigod now, he's a Godling/Monster/Immortal, and most of those that take child forms feel older than they look, which Percy does too. 2, Ares doesn't really care who tf it is, you wanna throw down he is ALWAYS game. 3, Hermes is literally the God of ADHD, he is doing a LOT just ALL THE TIME and while his memory is GREAT it's not infallible and Uncle P is the OG Monsterfucker, okay, who tf even KNOWS how many kids he ACTUALLY has, ESPECIALLY Monster kids, okay.

Special Kudos to Rebs222: I just really liked your Review, thank you for that, reading it made me smile
Special Kudos to WaywardCastletune: Don't worry! Some things will be explained soon! But also, consider this: Zeus has never done anything wrong in his LIFE according to himself, and since he's God King, OBVIOUSLY he's ALWAYS right! lol

See y'all next chapter!

Chapter 6: Chapter Five: Just Your Typical Olympian Family Reunion (Part 2)

Notes:

Percy: I know what to Expect
Gods: (Looking completely different to Godly Eyes VS Mortal Eyes)
Percy: ADHD Mode: Activate

Long chapter is Long! :D And very little Actual Dialogue lmao? Enjoy!

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The Lighthouse Keeper

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.Chapter Five.

Just Your Typical Olympian Family Reunion (Part 2)

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You know, in the Before, Percy could never figure out why the Olympians didn’t do more to keep Zeus in line. Sure, when he was a kid, even well into his twenties, he’d been intimidated by several of the Gods—y’know, before he’d gotten tired and bitter and grimly determined to help as many of the Demigods as possible, even if it meant bowing his head to Gods he no longer had even an iota of respect for. But Zeus? Zeus had always been a constant source of frustration and sarcastic “oh, of course Zeus said that” kind of energy.

If Before-Him had been able to See and Feel what Zeus was actually like?

Well.

God-King didn’t seem nearly as narcissistic anymore.

Zeus sat tall and stern upon his Throne, his skin the same ethereal color as Imperial Gold. It was crossed periodically with arcs of blue-bright electricity, random and dangerous, with white-hot flares dancing where cloth and skin met. He wore a long chiton made of shimmering material, almost liquid in appearance, that was every shade of blue the sky could be, shimmering and shifting in a dizzying, never-ending way. The himation he wore over the sky-chiton was made of clouds, twisting and swirling and drifting over him, pouring rain into parts of his chiton and held pinned at his shoulder by a gold, glittering eagle pin that seemed to breathe. His beard and hair, which Percy remembered as being plain black, were now the ominous black-gray of thunderstorms that promised devastation, curling ringlets like tornadoes frozen in time down to his shoulders and collarbones.

Thick, dangerously-sharp bull horns curled out of the mane, wrapped in a coil of never-ending lightning that sparked and glittered in a spectacularly eye-catching way. A wreath-crown of platinum-and-emerald olive leaves, mixed with oak leaves, with glowing gold olives and bronze acorns, sat on his head, shimmering with a Power that tasted like Divinity Itself. His eyes, glaring out from under stormy brows at the room at large, were the same glowing blue-white of his lightning, so bright it left after-images every time Percy blinked, the bright color peering out of pitch-black depths.

In his right hand lay the familiar, teeth-rattling, hair-raising form of the Master Bolt, but in his left hand, Zeus held a Scepter that made Percy’s neck ache with the need to bow. Something that channeled just as much Divinity as the wreath-crown, but somehow with more purpose, and he was reminded, forcefully, that God-King was not just a Title, but a Domain. And Zeus, who claimed the Domains of Law and Order, Destiny and Fate, Weather and Sky… The God of Kings… Who held Dominion over the Gods Themselves…

This Zeus? This was the Zeus who had remained Seated upon the Olympus Throne for over ten-thousand years. This wasn’t the businessman-looking God who made Percy think Workaholic-Lawyer-Asshole that had been the Before-Zeus to his Mortal Eyes.

This was the God-King.

…Yeah, okay. If he looked and felt like this to Gods? Not bothering with security-checking people made sense… As did Luke’s ability to steal the Master Bolt. Hell, Mortal-Percy hadn’t felt anything near as intimidated by Zeus as God-Percy was, and he had nearly been smote multiple times by the God.

Godsdamned, what the fuck.

“Breathe, pup,” Proteus murmured behind him, one flipper-hand brushing against the back of his neck, making Percy take an instinctive breath as the gills that had formed on his neck flared, ear-fins pinned tight and Lure off completely, instinctively attempting to not draw attention to himself. “You’ll get used to it. It takes a few millennia before Lord-Uncle's Divinity stops being so overwhelming.” Kym shifted her weight next to him, and in a casual-seeming shuffle of forms, suddenly, his half-siblings were between him and Zeus. Kym’s towering-in-comparison form especially standing directly between them, one of her hair-tendrils, drifting back and flicking his Lure teasingly, making it flicker half-heartedly as Rhode slipped one of her sand-made hands into his, the warmth of the beach on a sunny day seeping into his clammy skin, grounding him.

“Just breath, just like the tide,” Benti murmured from his other side, the two Goddesses pinning him in protectively as Proteus and Aethusa guarded his back. “Just like the tide, little brother.”

“The first time I saw Him, I hid behind Mother,” Aethusa murmured to him without shame. “He’s… A Lot. Especially for those from other Domains.”  Letting out a slow, shaky breath, Percy forced his attention to shift away from Zeus. Immediately, his ADHD took over, letting his gaze bounce to the nearest Olympian, and thankfully one of the furthest from Zeus, which immediately made him feel better, tension dimming and neck no longer aching.

Dionysus was sprawled on his Throne, bored-looking and grumpy as he’d almost-always been in the Before, and yet he, too, was drastically different. His skin is pale, a warm-toned marble, muscles covered in just enough fat to make him look welcoming instead of intimidating, unlike other Gods, and glittering gold-and-silver leopard rosettes spun and flickered across his skin in teasing, mesmerizing movements. His barely-on chiton was a dark, wine red with flashes of pale champagne-gold and coiling grape-vines twisting through the folds. It was held shut at his shoulder with a twisted knot of vines that draped down his arm, ending at his hand where fresh fruit sprouted continuously for him to absently toss into his mouth as he watched the world around him. His hair was a dark purple that was almost black until the light hit it, the color of blackberry juice and grapes and blood in moonlight. His face was bear of facial hair beyond his eyebrows and thick, curling lashes, unfairly pretty on a cherubic, pouting face that was still inhumanly handsome by Mortal standards. He had ram horns curling delicately from his temples, gold-splashed and blood tipped, threatening to bore into his own skull if they grew any longer. His eyes were almost human, regular iris on white sclera, but that iris was swallowed by his pupils, until only a thin ring of sky-blue denoted the color, and in those pupils there were visions of twisting bodies, dancing forms and howling laughter, blood and sex and madness made truth.

Distantly, Percy heard Zeus talking, but the echo of music and madness drowned out the God-King’s voice as he opened the Council with some weirdly-polite greeting to all the Sea Deities who were gathered, Percy couldn’t bring himself to actually care much. Instead, almost against his will, he found himself turning his attention to another God, fascinated by the differences.

Demeter was a statue made of the same gold as Zeus, but darkened by time in the dirt and sun. Her chiton was made of shifting, golden wheat and sighing green grasses, with a dark brown shawl of freshly-turned earth that shimmered into the golden-brown tones of freshly baked bread. Her feet and hands were both covered in thick mud, and twisting, flowering vines seemed to twist under her skin, breaking through it to flash new growth and blooming flowers before withering away and sinking below again. Her hair was black as fertile, wet soil, her thick curls occasionally writhing and wriggling like something was living beneath them, and her eyes were shining gold irises without pupil on clear blue sky-colored sclera, a springtime sun helping plants grow. A curling, golden wreath-crown of wheat wrapped around her head, coiling through a few loose ringlets of her hair like a snake, and water—life giving rain—dripped down to soak into her hair on occasion. She held a platinum sickle in her hand, glittering and cold as winter and plague and pride-in-ones-work, ready to reap harvests and lives interchangeably and without hesitation.

Percy tore his eyes away to focus on the next God.

Hermes was almost beyond comprehension to look at. One moment, he was a pale golden man, classically Greek in feature and lean form built for running, and the next he was a twisting wind made of whispering and murmuring words and sighs, and then he was a shadow of something with too many eyes and grasping hands. Then, his form settled as Zeus turned his head to look at him, and, suddenly, he was in the form of a man—or, at least, a facsimile of one, like the others.

A dust-spattered, knee-length chiton made of an almost see-though material, as if the wind itself had decided to cover him, hid very little from view as he sprawled on his Throne with an impish smile and devil-may-care aura. A short chlamys made of soft, black wool, studded in constellations and the flickering lights of highway traffic rested on his shoulders. Curly golden-brown hair rustled in winds that only he could feel, ruffling the pure white feathers that grew from the small wings that rested on his temples, folding back to blend into the rim of the tradition Travelers Hat he wore, which looked like it was made of paper covered in never-ending writing in thousands of different languages. His eyes were gleaming, his iris an almost ultra-violet color on pale green sclera, shaped like a rabbits—no, like a hares, round and black-lined and one wrong move from retaliation, with a goat’s pupil barring across it. Ink, dust, and blood spattered his arms, his fingernails practically dripping it beneath curling, short black claws, as he gestured with cheerful aplomb to the room at large as if to say See? I Told You They’d Come. Martha and George coiled and twisted around his other arm as he held his caduceus, a glowing silver mist rising from it to form a screen that flickered and flashed with too-much-information, and strawberries bloomed from his Throne’s armrests for him to pluck and toss into his mouth with a chortle.

Apollo glowed beside him, skin so darkly tanned he was made of living bronze, draped in shimmering whites and golds of shifting sunbeams, almost painful to look at straight on so Percy had to look at him from the side as he pretended to pay attention to Zeus and Hermes discussing… Delayed packages and damaged roads?

Oh, they were talking about all the issues his Dad’s Tantrum was causing, huh…

…Anyways, Apollo!

His hair was long and glittering gold, curly waves of warmth and heat and the urge to dig your hands through just to see if it was a soft as it looked. A wreath-crown of bay leaves and laurels twisted around his head, the ends curling around the base of the pair of short horns that sat, black and gleaming, at his temples, reeking even from across the room, of rot and hospitals and death and blood. A pitch-black Raven perched on his shoulder with three glowing gold eyes, its golden talons responsible for holding his shimmering clothing in place at the God’s shoulder. A silver quiver with molten-gold arrows rested on the opposite shoulder, a gold bow with a sunbeam as a string leaning against his leg. Apollo’s irises were made of glowing golden light, much like Percy’s own (much like Kronos’s were/are), only it radiated out of his face in a way that swallowed you whole and consumed your focus until you didn’t even realize you’d blinded yourself. Looking away from them had the word green tinged, like stepping in out of the snow, the rest of the world looking darker than before. Percy blinked slowly to make his eyes adjust, and realized he’d been staring at the shining lyre resting on Apollo’s lap as his oddly delicate-looking fingers stroked the strings...

And, wow, now that he wasn’t blinded by the literal light of Apollo’s eyes, he realized the God was small in a way none of the others had been thus far. Not child-small, or height small, really—although he was definitely the shortest God amongst the Olympians—but lean and delicate looking. Long limbs, thin fingers, relaxed shoulders…

Apollo was pretty, and he worked it. The smile he flashed towards his Sister was gleaming, white wolf fangs bared in play instead of threat, and showing off the dimples on his cheeks.

…Huh…

Thoughts for later.

Artemis was her Brother’s Opposite, as she always was. So pale she could match Kym in her translucence, the golden ichor in her veins pulsing and easily seen. Dressed in a chiton made of bear hide, black as night with glittering stars spiraling slowly through it and the smell of campfire smoke and blood seeping through the air. Her form was still that of a child, Percy’s physical body’s age, with curly waves of blood-red hair pinned back by a wreath of twisting bones and cypress leaves. Shimmering, silver antlers arched back at her temples, like mercury made solid, with strings of bloody fangs hung between the racks like grotesque spiderwebs.

Her eyes were black and round like a deer, with an iris that was the moon, shifting through the phases without pause, and curling eyelashes so red the looked like blood seeping out from under the lids. A glowing Celestial Doe, golden and docile, curled in her lap as if it was a stuffed toy, and hands covered in fresh-and-drying blood, tipped in bear-like claws, stroked over its spine with gentleness. A golden quiver filled with mercury-silver arrows rested on her shoulder, and a bow made of starlight with moonbeam-string rested against her leg, opposite again as her Brother’s.

She makes the part of him that is Reckless Battle long for the thrill of chasing something down. The feel of blood and meat in his mouth as he rips and tears. And, with the pulse of his heart in his throat, his eyes are pulled from her to lock on the familiar-different form of Ares.

Ares.

Ares.

Ares.

ARES.

Ares is draped in a chiton of blood and a chlamys of ragged black boar’s skin, the boars head—with blood red eyes and gory tusks—rested on his shoulder instead of a regular clasp. His skin was almost copper-tinged, covered in smears of blood and gunpowder and trench-mud, and his eyes were the same blazing fires in dead-black holes as they’d always been, because, in this, there was no need to ever hide his nature. His hair was short and black, curls tacky with blood that dripped from unseen wounds, sinking into the wreath-crown of vulture-feathers and dog-teeth that coiled there. Gold-toned scars pulsed over taut muscles, and gauntlets of drakon-scales covered his forearms, black-and-green scales on glowing Imperial Gold. His personal Helm rested in his lap, red feathered plumage on Celestial Bronze, dented and scratched and spattered with dry blood. His shield leaned against his leg, and his spear rested in his hand, large, blunt fingers tapping its shaft as those flame-bearing eyes bored into first his Father and then Percy’s Father, a cruel, eager grin curling his lips, exposing blood-tinged dog teeth bracketed by cruel, curving tusks.

Everything about him made Percy want to fight. Made him long for the burning pain of bare knuckles hitting flesh, of a sword in his hand and muscles burning from overuse and teeth bared in a grin that was a promise to drag his enemy down to Tartarus with him and damn the consequences.

Rhode squeezed his hand gently, the coarse feeling of her sand-skin pulling his attention away from where it had locked onto Ares, and he glanced up at her to finger her gentle sea-eyes looking at him with a small, tender smile on her face. Huffing softly at her as he forced his Domain back down, Percy wrinkled his nose at her before turning his attention away. Demeter was now speaking, bringing up ruined harvests and devastated farmland and slaughtered farmers, and beside her, Athena shifted in her Throne, catching Percy’s gaze.

Back in the Before, Percy could remember comparing Annabeth and Athena and the Goddess coming out Wanting in his eyes. There was nothing humane in Athena’s gaze, nothing of his Wise Girl’s enthusiasm or glee or exasperated fondness. After Tartarus, it was even more evident to him, how different Annabeth was from her Mother. And now, seeing the Goddess free of Mortal Cloak, he wondered if he hadn’t been seeing through her thin veneer of Humanness.

Athena, more than any of the other Olympians, was a Statue. There were no imperfections, no creases in her pale blue chiton made of finely woven material or her dark gray himation made of owl feathers. Not a hair was out of place from where the dark gold ringlets were pinned back out of her face. The wreath-crown of olive leaves was fresh and vibrantly green, its olives aesthetically and evenly positioned to show off their vibrant greens and blacks. Her skin was pale, Imperial Gold, an attempt at making her Father’s skin softer, but all it did was make her seem less Alive and more Creation. Her eyes were the color of steel daggers, shaped like an owls and just a sharp and predatory, with no warmth to soften it at all. The blue-plumed helm of Imperial Gold she held on her knee was shining and without any sign of use, the same for the short sword sheathed in dark blue at her hip.

Everything in its place, everything in order, all attempts at personalization buffed out and pruned away.

If Ares made him want to Fight Someone, Athena made him want to Drown Cities. She was the Antithesis to all that was the Sea, and the fact that she had, at one point, been considered a honorary Princess of Atlantis, a Child of Triton, baffled him now just as much as it had in the Before. Triton, after all, despite his strict beliefs and rigid training, was made for adaptation, for discarding plans at the first sign that they wouldn’t work out. If Athena was a dagger, then Triton was a whip. Just as dangerous in the correct hands, but flexible and capable of pulling others close just as much as he flung them away.

Annabeth had been steely determination, hungry curiosity, fierce protectiveness, clingy possessiveness, and terrified vulnerability. Athena was just cold calculation and vicious Order.

In other words, Athena was more Roman than Greek, especially considering her Roman Aspect, Minerva, who had been the most Greek of the Romans.

Shaking his head as the owl-eyed Goddess spoke up in measured, steady words—even those considered and set out like pieces of string plucked for a project—about how the Mist and Mortals were dealing with the storms, Percy dragged his eyes away, heavy distaste weighing on his tongue. Instead, he turned his eyes on Hephaestus, and blinked slowly in surprise.

The Hephaestus of Before had always claimed that Automatons were better than Living Beings. That he preferred them above all else, even when he Gifted his Demigods with various Aides and Blessings. Somehow, Percy had though that he would be less… Well, less Divine, somehow. More twisted or more Human. After all, that was why Hera threw him off the mountain, wasn’t it? For being ‘too ugly’.

Hephaestus looked like the male version of Rhea. Like a softer, warmer version of Kronos. He looked like a perfect mix of his parents, almost painfully perfect and, if it weren’t for the twisted scars caused by Hera, he’d have been even more Perfect Heir material than literally any of their other kids.

He was the largest of the Gods there, muscled and broad and chiseled from Imperial Gold as if hand-crafted, stained with soot and flecks of heated coals dotting his forearms. He wore a dark chiton made of coal, hidden beneath a leather apron that was smeared with grease with pockets stuffed full of odds and ends and little tools. His hair was dark bronze, perfectly coiled ringlets of metal-given-life, with a curling beard that smoldered at the end in an unending flame. His eyes were dark pits with glowing metal irises that looked like they’d been pulled fresh from the forge. A gold-gilded bulls horn, thick and strong, arched up from his temple, it’s twin nothing more than a ragged, jagged stump amongst twisted scar tissue, its center leaking smoke and oozing molten gold ichor that evaporated as soon as it started to drip off.

If it wasn’t for the heavy scarring, the broken horn, the metal hand that looked like it had been pulled from a Transformers movie, the thick, delicately-jointed brace on one leg, Percy would say, without a doubt, that he had another Uncle, that there had been Seven Kronides, the Zeus had been a Fraternal Twin.

…While he didn’t condone her actions in any way, shape, or form, Percy could understand, distantly, why Hera would react the way she did. He still had nightmares about Luke Castellan, sometimes, and a few of the Hermes kids in the Before had been forced to learn, painfully, to not approach him from behind unless they wanted a trip to the Infirmary.

Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder could hit you out of nowhere.

Still, despite that, Hephaestus was much better looking than Ares, in Percy’s opinion, and that thought pulled his eyes to Aphrodite…

She was naked.

Just.

Tits out, legs folded beneath her, slouched over her Throne like it was a loveseat, and completely naked.

Just.

Why?

Percy shook his head a bit, bewildered, because while he remembered the Goddess’s face pulling him in and projecting all of his romantic wants onto him, making his heart flutter and face flush, that was all in the Before. As a Mortal Demigod, and then as an Ascending Demigod. But now, here, as a God?

…She is incredibly beautiful, yes. She is mesmerizing and stunning and eye-catching. Her body is voluptuous and soft, pale like the sea foam she rose from, tiny, pearlescent scales trailing along her ribs and hips, making her shimmer enticingly under the light. Her wreath-crown was a twisting nest of dove feathers and dark red roses and pale pink seashells, glittering upon a tumble of dark curls that shift into a thousand different shades of color when she moved, like anemones under the sea. Her eyes were half-lidded and sultry, a soft dove-gray iris on a bed of pink-and-red rose petals, with a mouth the color of freshly spilt blood, curled into a saccharine-sweet, almost mocking smile as she let her head loll so that a dove made of glittering gold-and-silver could drop a treat into it, making her every movement into a show.

So, yes, she is incredibly beautiful.

But, most of all?

She’s lounging, naked, almost spitefully so, in the middle of the Olympian Council, and eating Nectar-stuffed Oreos.

…

What an Icon.

Percy shakes his head, lips threatening to tug into a grin despite himself, and turned his eyes away from the Goddess of Love even as she moved an arm to purposefully make her breasts look bigger with a sweet pout on her bloody lips, successfully derailing Ares from where he was complaining that all the shit weather was interfering with the war across the sea. Like that mattered to the Gods, seriously.

Avoiding looking at his Father, Percy turned his eyes on the only remaining Olympian he hadn’t noted yet, and found himself being stared at in return, making him stiffen.

Hera was the tallest of the Olympian Goddesses, chin held high and shoulders straight, with a spine made of Stygian Iron. She glowed the same shade of Imperial Gold as her husband, but colder, the deeper gleam of traditional wedding rings. Her long chiton was the white of wedding dresses, pure and unnaturally clean, whispering with the sighs of devotion and unspoken I Do’s and promises. The himation that draped over her artfully was soft, golden cow hide, glittering with little studs of emeralds and sapphires. A silver, sleeping peacock held the himation to her, its tail feathers glittering and the ‘eyes’ on them blinking as they flickered through various colors and shapes of iris.

Her hair was dark blond, tumbling artfully from the clasp made of starlight-colored lilies that held it back from her face. A wreath-crown of golden peacock feathers, Celestial Bronze lilies, and ruby pomegranate seeds circled her head, resting above eyes that shifted constantly, flashing from familiar golden iris to the same seafoam green of his Mom’s eyes, and then changing again, becoming the eyes of different Mothers and Wives before circling back to that damningly familiar Gold.  

Percy wondered, briefly, as they held eye contact, if she hated her mirrors as much as she’d hated looking at Hephaestus’s untouched face as an infant. He wondered if she changed her eyes as often as she could, to avoid seeing her own Mother’s eyes—her Father’s eyes—staring back at her from her face.

Those eyes sharpened on him, as if sensing his thoughts, and Percy turned his gaze away without thought, instinctively turning his attention towards his own Father as if against his will.

Poseidon, in his Memories, was always something just to the left of human. He played the part well, because the Sea was ever-changing and adapting and, of the Big Three, he was the most up-to-date with what the Mortals were up to. But, he’d never quite managed to get the emotions right. The Sea was… Consuming. Too-Much. It was Possessive and Wild and Prone to Rage.

Poseidon in his memories talked to Percy like he was a coworker you saw once in a blue moon. All “You’ve done well” and “keep it up” and “You’re one of mine”, but never actually speaking of their connection. The first time they met, he told Percy he was a mistake, to his face and, sure, Adult-Before-Percy realized he meant that he regretted Percy’s hard life and that it would only get worse from there, but, at the time? To the little, exhausted, traumatized Child-Before-Percy?

It had tainted every conversation they’d ever had, after.

This Poseidon, however? This one wore his emotions so plainly it was painful to look at him.

His body was tall and lean and the color of dark Celestial Bronze, with glittering scales of Imperial Gold and Stygian Iron and a teal so bright it glowed swirling around his skin in chaotic, ever-shifting waves. He wore a chiton of water, the dark blue-black of the Abyssal Depths, wet and clinging and radiating a cold that would usually make Percy’s bones ache but now made him feel comforted. His himation was made of churning foam, the kind stirred up by tsunamis and dangerous rapids and riptides, aggressive and tugging and threatening to drown. His hair was black as pitch, as tar, as oil, curls and waves weighed down by the Rage and Grief that roiled off of him like waves crashing into cliffsides.

The long, lanky clumps twisting behind him like the tentacles of the Kraken, sliding and creeping along his Throne’s back in warning as the other Olympians continued to talk at Him. His crown, a glittering thing of shells and pearls and coral, shone with an ominous light, flecks of bioluminescence beckoning someone to dare come closers, just a little closer, as sweet a Siren’s Song as Percy’s Lure, as Kym’s hair-tendrils, as Benti’s anemone. A Predator lying in wait.

His face could be carved from marble, from stone, for how still and hard his expression was, mouth set in a deceptively soft line despite the tension of his clenched jaw. His eyes were swallowed by his pupil, the inky depth poured from his iris and swallowing his sclera like a shark’s, cold and dark and dangerous as he dragged them from one speaker to the next without a sound. His Trident, something he usually left in its holder on the side of his Throne, was in his hand, grip firm and deceptively gentle in appearance, but it gleamed as if freshly sharpened and treated, the tines glinting hungrily, looking almost red in the light of Olympus, as if there had been blood but it had been washed away, for the most part.

…Percy had never seen his Dad this upset before, and it made one of his Domains twist in his chest. Messenger of Worried Parents unfurled within him, and, suddenly, he could Hear his Dad. Could Hear him Praying.

“Please, please let him live. Don’t take my child from me, not like this, Damn You, not like this.”

“Where is he?! Please! Please, where is my Son?!”

“He’s not even a decade, please, Fates, Khaos, Whomever will Listen! Please… He’s only a child… He’s practically an infant, please—"

Shaken, Percy blinked rapidly, forcing his attention back to the present, almost overwhelmed by the desperate, terrified Love his Dad had. For Him. Little, loser Percy Jackson, the Forbidden Child, the Bastard Child, the little Mortal Hero. His Dad Loved Him.

…He Loved Him…

Percy stared, blankly, in Zeus vague direction, glad not for the first time that the scars on his face made him hard to read. His Lure was dim and drooped, pressing against his forehead like a lost child, and his hand tightened on Rhodes as he slowly blinked.

“Enough!” Zeus’s voice rang out, a Command for Obedience, shaking Percy from his stunned stupor. “I have heard more than enough. You will cease your tantrum, Poseidon, or it is my Wrath you shall face.” Percy flinched a little as thunder boomed, the air suddenly sharp with crackles of electricity, and his siblings closed ranks tighter around him in an instinctive act of protection, and they weren’t the only ones. Every Sea Deity closed ranks, the Stronger or Older ones stepping in front of younger and less-powerful siblings, those who held no Domain’s that could be easily used here, or could be used at all in this situation, found themselves hidden from view, hands on their weapons and muscles tense. Percy suddenly found his Lantern in his hand and his Rug tight around him, its hold protective, as he instinctively glared towards Zeus’s voice, as Kym had risen to her full height, her hair-tendrils thrashing with fury as wisps of storm clouds spiraled around her shoulders.

“You dare tell me not to Rage, Brother?” Poseidon’s voice was cold, a deep rumble like the shifting of tectonic plates, like devastation and death and the Abyss Itself. “You, who could not bare the thought of your own child’s death, so you turned her into a tree? You?” Thunder boomed again.

“Watch Your Tone, Brother,” Zeus growled out, even as cold winds began to whip around them all. “You should be glad your latest bastard is missing, or else I would have struck him down myself.” Immediately, everything shifted.

The ground shook viciously with an earthquake, the air turned wet and cold as wind shrieked through the room with the strength of a hurricane. Every single Sea Deity straightened as their heartbeats synced up, pounding like horse hooves as Predatory gazes locked onto Zeus. Slowly, Poseidon, God-King of the Seas, rose to his feet, his Divine Weapon in hand and a black rage on his face as his hair coiled around him like tentacles, sharp teeth and gleaming eyes flashing throughout it.

“Touch My Son, Zeus,” Poseidon spoke, slow and inevitable as a Death Itself, the entirety of his Divine Power brought forth in Warning, in promise. “Touch Him And I Will DESTROY Your Daughters Tree And Bring MILLENIA Of War To Your Domains. No Child Of Yours Will EVER Be Safe From Me, No Law Held Honored, No Prayer Answered. I Will Rip From You Every Storm, Shake The Very Foundations Of Olympus, So I Swear On The River Styx And Khaos Itself.”

A gong-like toll sounded, alongside a rumble of Thunder that had nothing to do with Storms or Zeus, as Poseidon Swore with his very Divinity, and Zeus reared back from where he had risen in response to his brother’s show of Power, a look of utter fury and disbelief and calculation flashing across his face as he stared at Poseidon as if he had never seen him before.

“Oookay, let’s all just calm down for a minute,” Hermes’ voice cut through the air, the Messenger God obviously leaning hard into his Diplomacy Domain as he stood from his Throne with arms open and a serious expression on his face. George and Marth twisted themselves around their staff and Hermes hand as he stepped forward to stand between the still ready to fight Sea Deities and the two glaring Olympians. “No one wants the two of you to go to War, alright, not even Ares because he knows his kids will get slaughtered,” he said, shooting a look over at the War God as if to challenge him to deny it; Ares didn’t, because even though he was a dick about it, even Percy knew he had a soft spot for most of his kids. “All our kids, Mortal and Immortal alike, would suffer for it, and no one wants that, okay?”

“We’re not asking you to give up on your kid, Uncle,” Hermes continued when no one said anything after a moment. “Anyone who knows anything about you knows you love your kids. We’re just asking you to stop the world-ending catastrophes while you look, okay? Not only are you running me’n the other Psychopomp’s ragged, but you’re also overwhelming everyone with so much extra work, you’ve single-handedly clogged the entrance to Hades for at least the next century, and you’ve got the Monsters and Demigods so stirred up that they’re crawling out of the woodwork! Hades’ sake, Uncle P, even one of your Monster-kids has been going around and rescuing Demigods, even going so far as to Bless their Travels!” He threw his hands up a little, theatrical and imploring as his head-wings, flickered, the wings that unfolded from his ankles fluttering as well. “You can keep looking for him, Uncle P. Just, maybe don’t kill our kids and lovers while you do it?”

Silence reigned, not necessarily uncomfortable, but poignant. A held breath after a devastating earthquake, to see if another tremor would turn your world upside down.

Slowly, mouth pulled into a small frown, eyebrows furrowed, Poseidon turned his face away from where he’d been staring down Zeus, to stare, now, at Hermes.

“What… Did you say,” he dragged out slowly, voice still echoing the Crushing Depths, but less cold, more the twisting strength of a deep-sea current than a crushing hold. “About Blessings?” Hermes paused, tilting his head, his wings all twitching faintly in confusion.

“Um, that one of your more Monster-kids was Blessing the Demigods he found with safe travel?” Hermes said slowly, cautiously. “And, don’t get me wrong, Uncle P, I’d normally get a little pissed about it because, y’know, that’s my Domain and all, but considering how many of my Daughters have made it to Camp for the first time in decades, I’m seriously not mad.”

“Hermes,” Poseidon said again, something slightly more Urgent beginning to pull through his voice, and Percy found himself shifting his weight and squeezing Rhodes hand as he glanced to the side, only to find his eyes locking on Hestia’s where they glowed with gentle understanding at Her Hearth. “Hermes, none of my Children have the ability to Bless Land Travel. Who did you find that could?” Hermes stilled, his winds slowly arching in confused shock, and, just as Percy looked back towards him, the Messenger God turned to look at him over his shoulder.

“Well… That one?” He said, pointing at Percy, who immediately winced a little, instinctively ducking down and hiding his face in his Rug as Kym turned to look at him, bewildered, and unintentionally exposing him to the entire Olympian Council.

“Um…” he managed, staring back at the Gods as their combined focus landed on him, including several of his Siblings, some of whom literally, climbed onto taller siblings to try and catch sight of him. Self-consciously, he pulled his Rug closer, a small frown making his scars pull as his Lure lit up gently in flickers of soothing light, gills flaring. His Dad stared at him, frozen still, even his hair-tentacles slowly sinking down into regular-hair behavior.

Awkwardly, Percy lifted the hand that wasn’t clutching at his Lantern, and offered a little wave.

“Hi?”

Smooth, Jackson, he thought to himself with a wince, hunching his shoulders and scowling reflexively to himself as everyone somehow managed to stare harder.

Real fucking smooth.

Notes:

Mortal Percy: Ew, Zeus? Such a Dick. Just gross.
God Percy: Oh um, shit, Zeus is actually really fucking scary hello?! Since When?!
<><>
Apollo: (Just chillin)
Percy: (Holds up hand like that meme) Is this a Bi Panic?
<><>
Aphrodite: If I have to be here You All Suffer
Percy: What An Icon, Such A Mood
<><>
Poseidon: I love my Son
Percy: Yeah, uh-huh, got it sure.
Poseidon: (Is willing to fight Zeus, kill millions, destroy Thalias tree, curse an entire bloodline, and swear with all of his Godly Being to do so if Zeus tries to throw hands with Percy)
Percy; (Surprised Pikachu)

Long chapter was long, guys! What did you think? I mostly also had ADHD Mode Activated this whole time bc I REALLY wanted to share what the Gods all looked like and, face it, Percy in a boring, uncomfortable meeting? Like fuck is he listening to whatever the fuck anyone is talking about, why would he when he can be looking a (oh-so-pretty) Apollo, or how weirdly handsome Hephaestus is, or wanting to eat Oreos with Aphrodite, or realizing that maybe HERA has PTSD and ew why does he Get Her a lil now? Anyways, tell me what y'all thought on the Gods descriptions! Thanks for reading!

Special Kudos!:
DAsObiQuest: Kym is definitely going to be very Confused/Concerned about this Literal Infant lmao! And the Fates TOTALLY aren't salty about this Lil Shit who ruined their tapestry, nope, TOTALLY not XD
Kahluah: Binge kin!
Moonshine_and_Starshine: Hermes is absolutely a Loot Supplier and Poseidon will/would definitely have More Than One, he's the Top Buyer
Zilo88: Your comment had me giggling, thank you!
Wamescat: Not the Zeus Relating lmao! (Then again I just had him relate to Hera so :eyes:
bubblesday: Hestia really being like "The Demigod Distribution Machine blessed me today, no Take Backs" lmao
101axel: thanks for the boost! :D
Minvra: Exactly the Vibe lol
Aspenofthewoods: No worries, you're not the first to ask, you won't be the last, it's all good. I am, unfortunately, beholden to the ADHD and Plotbunny Gods (Hermes and Apollo, basically) and thus update VERY SPORATICALLY as long as the writing juices flow. Sometimes this means you get 4 chapters in a week. Sometimes this means you get one chapter a month. Sometimes this means I go from posting every-other-day to disappearing for months or years at a time and reappearing late to the party with Starbucks. Y'know, just Gremlin Things!
LadyHallen: Very true and very cute and no worries! I have plans! Vague plans, yes, but plans!
Warrior_of_Words: Very true! They all just be like "So, um, kiddo... How, uh, how do you feel about, yknow *Gestures at rug*" Percy: "Its Mine now. I love it. It smells like my Mom." Them: "*Teary eyed* That... Thats nice honey..."
afel: You got it in the first half, basically, but will you stick the landing next chapter? Stay tuned to find out~!
ElbowAnarchy: Your Long Review was very nice and I loved it, thank you very much!
Hellothere358008: :eyes: *Whispers* Soon....

Chapter 7: Chapter Six: Just Your Typical Olympian Family Reunion (Part 3)

Notes:

Percy: It's cool, I've got this, I'll just let my ADHD distract them, my plan is great--
Poseidon: *Yandere Vibes*
Percy:
Percy: Huh.
Percy: I'm... Surprisingly Ok with this?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Just a friendly reminder that I Don't have an Update Schedule bc I do this for fun and whenever my ADHD and the real world let me! While I'm glad so many people like the fic please stop asking about updates or if it's abandoned or just chanting update in the comments! Its actually DIScouraging and makes me want to work on other products. Again, I appreciate that y'all like my work but please refrain from commenting about updates, thank you!

ALSO also! This is NOT Perpollo, no worries! Percy just has ADHD and Apollo is Shiny and plays the Pretty Boy Card HARD on Purpose so Percy's ADHD is just looking at everything like "Oooooh pretty..." so don't worry! I plan on keeping Percy completely uninterested in relationships bc he is physically 9 and now also a Child Immortal so No One will be trying to tap that (Poseidon would literally kill all their demigods and THEN Some if anyone even MENTIONS it tbh like wow lol)

Anyways, without further ado, long await Long Chapter for you guys!!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  

The Lighthouse Keeper  

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  

.Chapter Six.  

Just Your Typical Olympian Family Reunion (Part 3)  

……………………………………  

 

The mood in the Council Hall had very firmly done a complete backflip. Not a one-eighty, really, but just. Whiplash. From Ready For War to Abject Confusion.   

And They All.  

Kept.  

Staring.  

Percy felt his shoulders rise as his gills flared, fin-ears fully pinned as he glanced away from his Dad, who was as still as stone as he stared. It wasn’t necessarily that he was embarrassed —although he absolutely was, just, seriously, ‘Hi’?! Seriously ?!—it was just…  

Almost forty years of thinking he was just an extra in the story of his Dad breaking the Oath. Of just being the latest Poseidon Demigod, of just being the token Mortal of the Sea Deities. He’d known, vaguely, that his Dad didn’t hate him, but he had spent the entirety of his life believing that his Dad didn’t feel much beyond possessiveness and pride in his actions but, like, as an extension .  

Like, in the way Annabeth was proud of the things she built. ‘I made that thing and other people admire it because I made it’. You know, a typical, Godly response to things. He had just thought it was some stupid dick-measuring contest with the other Gods, the way he liked to pop into Percy’s life. Like some weird ‘ha, ha, look how great my kid is, ha, ha!’. He’d… Never actually thought his Dad had loved him.  

Did Love him.  

Love him enough to go to war for.  

And now? Now he not only knew that his Dad Loved him , but he heard it . Felt it. The full, almost overwhelming depth of Love his Dad held for him. For him and all of his half-siblings.  

(An Ocean’s worth of Love, just as devastating and deep and beautiful and dangerous . The kind of Love that gripped the unsuspecting tight and swept them under, poured over their heads and drowned them .)  

Confronted with the realization that he didn’t actually know his Dad? On top of all the other realizations about the Gods in such a short period of time? It was… More than a little Overwhelming.  

He was too old for this shit , ugh…  

His Rug reacted before he had to, the thick blue-and-green Afghan-like cloth rippling up and over his head like a hood, the excess cloth closing around his body in a hug, leaving him no-doubt looking like a little kid hiding mostly under a blanket… Which, well, he kind of was? At least, physically.  

Immediately, the tension was sucked out of his shoulders, his gills and ears and face-scars relaxing as his Mom’s Love surrounded him comfortingly… And, of course, this was the moment his Dad decided to move.  

Between heartbeats, Poseidon was suddenly in front of him, staring down at him with such a strange expression Percy couldn’t quite explain it. It was like devastation and hope and rage mixed with joy and confusion and an almost possessive sort of interest. Percy stared up at him, eyes a little wide, as the oil-slick black tentacles that made up his Dad’s hair coiled around them like a living void. There were eyes and little flickers of lights and movement like something swimming just under the surface as they stretched out, almost tentatively, around the two of them. Within the darker space between them, Percy’s eyes and Lure immediately glowed, his Lure pulsing softly, tentatively, as his flashlight-eyes looked up to meet his Dad’s eyes uncertainly.  

“ Perseus ,” Poseidon whispered, mouth unmoving from its soft, almost stunned set, the black that had swallowed his eyes slowly shrinking the longer he and Percy stared at each other, exposing an almost aurora borealis of blues and greens and even very dark purples as they swirled and moved within the exposed space like waves, flickers of white breaking it up as he stared, unblinking, un breathing —which, really, Gods didn’t even need to do, but it was soothing and…  

Percy was distracting himself.  

“…Hi,” Percy ended up saying again, whispering it back as Poseidon stared at him with a slowly building wonder. “I’m Percy.” Poseidon blinked, slowly, like a whale waking from a long sleep in the colder seas. The hair-tentacles rippled, as if something had been dropped into them, and the air around Percy warmed.  

He hadn’t even realized it was cold.  

“ Percy, ” Poseidon sighed and then, suddenly, he was on his knees , his arms wrapping around Percy’s shoulders and pulling him close, holding him like he was fragile, like he was precious .  

Like he would disappear if Poseidon squeezed too hard.  

“You’re alive ,” his Dad breathed into his ear, voice so soft it brought tears to Percy’s eyes, as his hair-tentacles finally dropped down, slumping over them like streams of water, immediately making the space around them brighten, and Percy was frozen, wide-eyed, as his Dad held him close.  

His Dad, who had just reminded all the Olympians and Sea Deities together that he was God-King of the Seas . His Dad, who didn’t hesitate to fall to his knees to hug Percy. His Dad, who was holding onto Percy as if he would shatter .  

…  

How, he wondered, burying his face in Poseidon’s shoulder with a shudder, the fuck did I ever think he never loved me?  

His Rug reacted to his surging emotions, and suddenly, his Rug was wrapping around his Dad and him both, hugging them and surrounding them in the Smell and Feel of Sally Jackson’s Love. Poseidon shivered, his scales shifting and vibrating, like those sequined pillows that changed colors when you swiped your hand in a different direction. Percy shivered with him, going completely limp, his hands clenching gently in his Dad’s clothes, tiny claws digging in without intent. Just clinging, just a little baby alligator—  

As if summoned by the thought, a soft, high-pitched sound escaped Percy’s throat.  

Eh-Er .  

Poseidon seemed to still against him, making Percy instinctively curl into him tighter, the soft, fucking embarrassing sound of a distressed baby alligator—or maybe crocodile, since they sounded very similar at that age—repeated, his eyes burning and his scars pulling tight as his shoulders started to hunch again at the involuntary sounds.  

A baby calling for its parent.  

“ Awww ,” Kym’s voice cooed from off to the side, making Percy scowl instinctively, but, before he could pull his face out of his Dad’s shoulder to hiss at her, cheeks hot with embarrassment, his Dad let out a low, thrumming rumble, something that ended in a hissing noise but rolled like captured thunder in his chest.  

A Parent Responding to their Hatchling.  

Instantly, against his will, Percy went limp, went loose-limbed and helpless and trusting , and that pulled another sound from Poseidon, just as unwilling, just as immediately. A low, croon, awed and adoring and delighted. And then, Percy was being cradled in his lap as Poseidon full on sat on the ground, cuddling him close as he turned to face the rest of the Council, Percy’s Rug wrapped around them. Percy reluctantly turned, snuggling into his Mom’s Love and his Dad’s Hold, to peer out over one of his arms at the staring Olympians.  

And they were , y’know.  

Staring .  

Staring like this was something so unbelievably new that they were all frozen by it. At least all his half-siblings had fully dissolved from Battle Ready to Family Gathering With Violence Potential. Kym threw herself onto the ground next to them with a wide, fascinated grin and twirling hair-tendrils, storm-eyes spiraling in different directions. Almost without a thought, as if she just couldn’t help herself, she reached forward with one clawed hand to poke Percy.  

Yeah, no, fuck that.  

The startled squeal she gave when Percy’s sharp teeth snapped onto her finger, spilling bright gold Ichor as she yanked her hand back, was the same kind of sound that a ship made when cracked in half. Sharp wood snapping, an almost gasp as water and air flooded into the same place.   

“Did you just bite me ?!” She demanded, staring at her bleeding finger in utter disbelief; Percy bared his teeth at her in a scar-twisting grin, Lure flashing in a sweetly mocking way, all ‘ aw, won’t you come back? ’ and sibling Little Shit Energy. “Dad! The baby just bit me!” Immediately, Percy’s eyes narrowed, and his grin turned to a snarling scowl, snapping his teeth at her again as she leered at him, her own teeth, too-white-and-straight, looking oddly ominous as she bared them back.  

“Percy don’t bite your sister,” Poseidon told him softly, gently, as he ran tender, talon-tipped fingers through Percy’s floppy-wavy hair. “Kymopoleia, stop teasing the baby.” Immediately, Percy’s head whipped around to scowl up at their Dad while Kym let out a laugh that mimicked shouting sailors and crashing waves. Poseidon smiled down at him, utterly unrepentant as he continued to cuddle Percy close; the New God could only scowl at him, cheeks and gills puffing out in childish outrage.  

“ Poseidon, ” Zeus’s voice called, firmly but not booming—yet. Still, it had Percy instinctively ducking back down into his Rug and hiding mostly behind his Dad’s arm as the God-King’s Aura came to bear on the room at large. Poseidon hissed , a low, alien sound, like steam or cold water meeting hot metal. Zeus’s Aura stayed a moment longer, pointedly, before pulling back, and Percy let his head pop back up to scowl at the Olympian Council.  

Using an Aura that literally demanded you Kneel and Obey , just to get your brother’s attention, was so heavy fucking handed and just like Zeus, ugh .   

“Poseidon. Who is this Child?” Zeus demanded coldly, lightning crackling brighter between his horns and thunder making the air vibrate. Poseidon squeezed Percy gently, tenderly, before he rose to his feet without using his hands at all, cradling Percy to him like a treasure.  

“May I present Perseus Jackson, called Percy, Son of myself and the Mortal, Sally Jackson,” Poseidon declared, voice clear and pride -filled, making Percy flush a little and scowl, casting his flashlight-eyes around the room with a glare, his Lure flashing softly at them all as he did.  

“We were told your missing child was a Demigod , Poseidon,” Hera’s voice rang out, cool and calm and poised even as her ever-shifting eyes narrowed slightly at Percy. “And yet, here before us is neither Mortal nor Monster, but a God . How, exactly, did this happen?” Poseidon’s hands clenched, not tightly, but as if the muscles in his fingers had turned to stone instead of flesh, and Percy glanced up at him to find the swirling oceans were quickly becoming storms. Without thinking about it—because, like usual, Percy is one for action over strategy —Percy flared his Lure in a soothing array of flickering, pastel rainbows, eyes wide as his Dad glanced down at him—  

And visibly melted , stormy-oceans transforming into adoring swells, as the literal God-King of the Sea became a mushy, besotted Dad .  

“I don’t know how he came to Ascend,” Poseidon told the room at large, eyes locked on Percy as he shifted him in his arms so that he could stroke a large, sun-warmed-waters hand against his cheek—and his hand did feel like water, like Percy’s skin should be wet , but it wasn’t and it was so fucking weird —before he continued, his voice going rumbly with an aching, protective RAGE . “But it was not by my design, nor with my knowledge.” The silence that swept the room was the kind that came just before Devastation hit. The kind where you realized there was nothing you could do in the face of the Tsunami or Hurricane or Tornado, nothing but take cover and pray .  

“Perhaps the child knows what happened,” Athena spoke, voice measured and steady, a political diplomat negotiating with the enemy; several of Percy’s half-siblings let out various types of hisses and growls in response, and Poseidon’s muscles flexed carefully, consideringly, deliberately . The Sea may, on the rare occasion, Forgive, but it never Forgot, no matter how long ago the slight was—If you could call it a slight to Murder the First Princess Grandchild of the Sea.  

However, there was not much the Sea could do to the God-King’s Favored Daughter, but Percy had clear memories of Before, where no ship or raft manned or built by Athena’s Children would ever find safe waters. Where no Sea Deity allowed his Wise Girl to touch their Temples or Altars. Where he'd had to personally teach more than one of her Demigod’s how to swim, even as adults, those few that lived that long. 

The Sea Remembered more than many Gods had a chance to Forget , and it held its Grudges worse than Nico did.  

“Peace, Poseidon,” Hera ordered, lifting a hand as if it would stay the Tide . “No one is accusing your child of wrongdoing. He is an actual child, not even a decade old. We would hear his story, so that the… Sequence of events leading to his Ascension might be made clear.” Zeus nodded slowly, glowing eyes sharp with crackling lightning watching Percy and his Dad with cunning calculation, and Percy ducked down a bit warily as he eyed the King of Gods. He honestly preferred the Zeus he knew in the Before.  

Oh, to be so blissfully ignorant again…  

“Percy,” Poseidon’s voice called gently, warmly, making him blink and immediately look up at his Dad, their eyes meeting and holding. His Dad smiled at him, achingly warm and adoring as his Sea-Filled eyes spiraled soothingly and his hair curled inky tendrils around them, filling every breath with salt and seafoam as Percy relaxed against his will. Instead, he stared, eyes wide and Lure glowing softly, up at the God who was his Father, awed by the differences and yet comforted by the many familiar parts of his Dad from Before. Poseidon’s face softened, from Divine Stone to Sun-Warmed Sand, soft and approachable and so very, very loving …  

“Percy, tell me what happened to you?” Poseidon asked , not ordered , voice warm and gentle, eyes intent , and Percy blinked slowly up at him. “What happened after the pathetic Mud Rat harmed you?” Percy blinked again, a little surprised and also a little amused at the insult for Smelly-Gabe. And here, he knew he’d have to be careful, because he was Physically Nine , and there were several Gods here—Apollo especially —who could tell when you lied, if not when you withheld information.  

So, he told the truth… Or, at least, a version of it.  

“Smelly Gabe hurt me while Mom was at work,” he started simply, curling his little baby claws into his Dad’s chiton as he peered up at the God. “He didn’t do it too often, ‘cause Mom might find out. Sometimes he’d hurt her, too. When she told him to leave me alone or when she tried to get him to do something around the house. Mom doesn’t know I know, but I’m not stupid .” He bared his fangs, a soft clicking hiss escaping him before he shook his head. “But this time, he hit me hard .”  

And, thinking back on it, in the Before, Gabe had hit him harder than he’d dared before. He remembered the hot-cold feeling of shock and pain, the blood that had gushed from his nose, the genuine fear he’d felt as Gabe had stood over him, face dark and fist raised. In the Before, Gabe had gotten distracted by one of his Poker Buddies calling to invite him to a game that weekend, and Percy had gotten to the bathroom eventually.  

“I don’t remember why he was mad,” Percy told his Dad honestly, frowning as he looked down to where he’d dug his baby claws, curling them deeper into the magical fabric, feeling literal currents and tides move through the fabric as Poseidon lifted a hand to gently cradle the back of his head. “It hurt a lot, and there was a lot of blood… I was scared,” he admitted softly, pressing his head into his Dad’s hand as he played with the currents hidden in the God’s chiton .  

“He was much bigger and older than you, pearl,” Poseidon soothed him, the RAGE in his voice covered with deceptive softness, a deadly riptide beneath supposedly still waters. “It’s understandable that you were scared.” Percy nodded softly, dragging his tongue against the back of his teeth consideringly as the smell of Sea and Storm filled the air, his Half-Siblings radiating just as much RAGE as their Father, the glow of various Divinities and Auras making his Lure shimmer and flicker softly.  

“I don’t know how long I was in the car,” Percy continued, letting them make their assumptions about how he’d gotten in the car to begin with. “But something attacked us. A Gryffin, like in the story books, but ugly ,” he declared pettily, wrinkling his nose with a scowl— Three Fucking Wars without a facial scar! Fucking ugly ass Bitch —before letting out a huff. “Then I was on the ground with my Rug, and Gabe’s head was gone. And when it came after me, I ripped its head off ,” the words tore from him, guttural and hungry and viciously satisfied as he looked up at his Dad, eyes and Lure glowing brightly as he grinned meanly, fangs on full display. Poseidon didn’t disappoint, face going proud and vicious as well, a cruel smirk curling his lips as he nodded at Percy in approval that totally didn’t make Percy warm and gooey and almost-shy, up fuck the shut .  

“Then it was me and my Rug,” he declared, lifting a hand to tug gently at his Rug, feeling it move around them like a living thing, curling around his form with affection and making him sigh happily as he nuzzled into it. Poseidon’s hand shifted, fingers trailing over the Rug with a sad, wistful expression, even as the darker emotions continued to twist and curl beneath the surface.  

“I gave this to your Mother on our second date, you know,” he told Percy simply, thoughtfully, as he twisted gentle fingers in the wriggling tassels on Percy’s shoulder. “I bought it with Mortal money and everything, from a street vendor, because your Mother had spent a majority of our date informing me of the evils of capitalism and the damage large companies were doing to those with small or family run companies, and that buying commercial items instead of commissioned was a sign of the bourgeoise winning over the less fortunate.” Percy snorted, flashing his Dad a sharp-toothed grin.  

“Mom’s awesome ,” he stated smugly; Poseidon smiled tenderly at him.  

“She is,” he agreed simply, warmly; Percy nodded, pleased that his Dad properly understood the awesomeness that would always be Sally Jackson.  

“It’s my Rug now, though,” he added, just to be clear, lifting the hand that wasn’t playing in the magical sea-cloth, to stroke the Rug. “It smelled like Mom, and now it feels like Mom, so I kept it close, and now it’s mine .”  

“It is,” Poseidon agreed simply, and a part of Percy he didn’t even realize was tense relaxed, the Rug reaching up and curling around Poseidon’s shoulders in an affectionate hug in reply.   

“Right,” Percy murmured, blinking twice as he forced himself to refocus. “So, um… Killed the Gryffin, got my Rug, started walking,” he said, squinting his eyes a bit as he tried to word the whole travelling thing without exposing his Time Travel Bullshit . “It started storming so bad , it was cool at first then it got super boring,” he declared, bobbing his head and ignoring the muffled laughter off to the side as Poseidon’s face warmed into exasperated fondness. “Then my claws came out and I got scales ,” he added, holding out his skinny little arm, letting the Rug fall away for the first time in ages and—  

Huh.  

Y’know, between the waking up and the murder and the travel, you know what Percy never did?  

He never changed out of his pajamas . So, here he was, in front of his Dad and all the Olympians, dressed in a worn-thin, short-sleeved gray Bugs Bunny shirt and dark basketball shorts. All of it long-stained with blood and swamp and Monster Dust, all of it hidden under his Rug. He wasn’t even wearing socks or shoes, what the fuck .  

…He’d had some serious hyper-fixation on getting to Florida, hadn’t he? Tunnel Vision of Doom. Seriously, what the fuck was his brain?  

His Dad catching his wrist distracted him from the fact that he was woefully underdressed , and now he was distracted by how tiny he was. He’d forgotten, once again, how small he’d been at nine. Small and malnourished . His Dad’s hand not only easily encircled his entire wrist, but his fingers alone could, not including his palm. As it was, his scales sparkled as his Dad lifted his arm a bit, Hestia’s Hearth reflecting like he was covered in stars, making him still and fixate on it, his Lure shimmering to sparkle in the same distracting way, his mouth opening a little as he stared.  

Holy shit, he was so shiny —  

“Very pretty scales,” Poseidon assured him with a small smile, turning his arm a bit and admiring how they shimmered as Percy bobbed his head with a distracted hum. He tilted Percy's hand, using a finger to pull his fingers apart gently, exposing the soft, blue-tinged webbing and his dark-blue-cuticled claws. He even pressed gently against the tip of said claws, letting them prick his own finger, leaving glittering gold on the blue-toned edges.  

“Yeah…” Percy agreed absently, before Poseidon gently jostled him, tucking his arm back under his Rug, making sure he was once more covered, as if Percy was going to get cold .   

(Seriously, how did he ever doubt his Dad’s Love in the Before?)  

“What happened next, Percy?” Poseidon asked gently; Percy blinked.  

“Found a safe place to rest at night,” he told him simply. “Nice and dry and hard for Monsters to get into. But then, I just felt like moving , like I had to and then, I found some other kids, with Monsters attacking them. I figured out they were like me even if they were different, and we killed the Monsters and I brought them to my Safe Resting Place.” He tilted his head and turned a bit, peering over at the Olympians. “One of yours,” he said, pointing at Hermes, “one of yours,” a point at Apollo, “and one of yours ,” he finished with bared teeth as he jabbed a finger at Ares, who bared his teeth right back, making Percy’s fin-ears flare out aggressively and his claws and teeth ache to Rip and Tear . A soothing hand stroking through his hair dragged his attention back, making him huff as he turned his eyes back to his Dad, pouting a little as he did.  

He would get to punch Ares again this time around. If he repeated anything from the Before it sure as hell was going to be that .  

“I stayed up and watched over them and we talked a lot ,” Percy continued, playing up his physical age a bit. “Mostly about Disney’s Hercules and how not true it was compared to the actual myths.” Something distinctly mean flashed over Poseidon’s face as Percy could physically hear Zeus grind his teeth at the mention of the movie. “I don’t remember most of what we talked about, my forehead had a big lump growing on it and I was really worried it was going to be an eye . They left in the morning, and I told them they’d get there safely, and I Knew they would.” The expression that flickered over his Dad’s face said he knew exactly what Percy was talking about.   

Fucking Domain Bullshit, ugh.  

“Then it kept happening ,” he declared, annoyed. “I found fourteen of them in the swamp ! Fourteen! And the Monster’s were popping up everywhere too and it wasn’t an eye but my Lure and it’s so distracting sometimes!” He complained, scowling up at his Dad. “It’s just there and sometimes it’s so pretty and then I’m walking off a cliff into pond water and it’s so annoying sometimes! And Him !” He added, twisting in Poseidon’s arms, ignoring his almost painfully fond expression, and instead pointing a finger at Hermes with a scowl, the God pointing at himself in a classical ‘ Who Me?’ motion, hare-eyes fascinated as he stared back at Percy. “He keeps showing up and throwing toys at me! And takin’ selfies with me when I can’t move ‘cause of babies !” Percy threw his arms up in exasperation, letting himself flop backwards a bit in his Dad’s arms, trusting he wouldn’t let him fall—which, of fucking course he wouldn’t, his Dad Loved Him !—and hanging partially upside-down before flipping upright, absently flicking his Lure out of the way to puff up at his helplessly smiling Dad.  

Okay, he was maybe having too much fun playing the ‘I’m Baby ’ card, but, honestly, it was worth it .  

(His Dad LOVED Him!)  

(His Fatal Flaw had always been Loyalty —)  

So, yeah, he’s playing it up, letting his speech revert to the same, childish way of speaking he’d use when teasing Annabeth and Clarisse and Nico in the Before. The same he’d use with Thalia whenever the Hunters came around for a tussle. It made something in his chest ache, yes, but it also made him feel almost lightheaded with relief in some way, as well.  

Listen, okay, he didn’t understand it, it was probably Domain Bullshit anyways…  

Or Trauma.  

Could definitely be Trauma.  

“ So many Demigods,” he told his Dad, letting the seriousness enter his voice as he set his claws on Poseidon’s chest, peering up at him solemnly. “So. Many. All of them lost and scared and angry and hurt .” Percy clenched his fingers and scowled fiercely, lips peeling back from his fangs as a crocodilian hiss rattled through him as his Lure glowed brightly, enticingly, trying to catch prey that wasn’t there. “They should be safe . Kids should be Safe . So I made sure they were .”  

“That’s good, Percy,” his Dad fucking coos , face soft and eyes glowing with pride as he pet over Percy’s hair, his own talon-like claws scratching just right over his head. Percy let out a pleased hum against his will, eyes closing at the feeling, before forcing his eyes back open, his clenched hands relaxing once more under the scritches and petting.  

“…Shouldn’t need to keep them safe, though,” he managed to say clearly, even when he wanted nothing more than to grumble and mumble and bury his face in his Dad’s neck again. “It’s easy to just. Bless them and send them on safely . Don’t need to directly interact with them, not really, but they need to see it now, ‘cause they don’t think their Godly parents love them.” Poseidon paused, briefly, before his petting continued, slowly, carefully.  

“…You know I love you , don’t you, Percy?” He asked carefully, achingly; Percy winced and ducked his head so that his face pressed against Poseidon’s collarbone.   

“… Know now, ” he muttered into the skin there, curling his arms around his Dad’s neck. “Can hear it.” Poseidon stilled, tilting his head and peering down at Percy.  

“You can hear that I love you?” He asked curiously; Percy nodded, reluctantly pulling back to peer up at his Dad. He opened his mouth, only to tell him, he fucking swears , but, instead…  

Poseidon’s own, desperate voice fell from his open mouth like a recording.  

“Please, please let him live. Don’t take my child from me, not like this, Damn You, not like this .”  

“Where is he?! Please! Please, where is my Son?!”  

“He’s not even a decade, please, Fates, Khaos, Whomever will Listen! Please… He’s only a child… He’s practically an infant, please —"  

Percy snapped his mouth shut the moment he could , fin-ears pinned back and head ducking as Poseidon stood frozen, staring down at him.   

“…It’s one of my Domains,” Percy informed him, mumbled it, really, but in the dead silence he could tell everyone could hear him. “I’m the Messenger for Worried Parents…” Percy locked his eyes on his own claws where they dug gently into his Dad’s magical chiton , refusing to look up at the God as he processed. But, then, a large, warm hand lifted to gently cradle his head, pulling him gently forward and Percy buried his face into his Dad’s shoulder with relief.  

“I’m glad you know now,” Poseidon told him solemnly, softly. “That I love you, Percy.”  

“Yeah,” Percy whispered out, letting himself go limp. “…I love you too.” Poseidon let out that deep, almost-crooning sound again and pulled Percy in tighter, surrounding him with the smell of Sea and Horses and Storms and Percy sighed softly, closing his eyes as he let it surround him for a moment. After a few gloriously peaceful moments, however, Percy felt a rise in Zeus’s Aura, the God-King no doubt becoming impatient, and allowed himself to reluctantly pull back from his Dad’s neck, glancing up to spot the irritated look Poseidon was shooting his Brother, which made Percy smile a little because he’d definitely worn that exact expression on his own face more than once.  

“Anyways,” Percy started again, absently kneading his baby claws into the magical Chiton , “Sometimes I walked along the beaches, getting trash and helping out the seals, but mostly I just kept moving and finding Demigods ... And killing Monsters,” he added, baring his teeth briefly. “I had to keep going, though. I had to find it.”  

“Find what, Percy?” Poseidon asked him gently, scritching his head as he stared intently at Percy, face tender and possessive and eyes unblinking, the Abyss peering out from his pupils hungrily, a yawning, starving sort of attention no Mortal was made to withstand in even an incremental dose. It had Percy’s Lure flickering and swaying enticingly, his body going Predator Still, mouth opening a little as he felt his jaw shifting beneath his skin to allow for too-many-teeth— he curving needle-like fangs of the anglerfish and the sharp, jagged teeth of the Moray, with the devastating bite strength of the Crocodile and Alligator combined—to materialize, his gills flaring and his claws instinctively curling into the Chiton beneath his palms. A low, whispering hiss rolled through his chest as his shoulders lifted and his legs settled so his feet rested on his Dad’s upper thighs, balanced on the balls, the perfect position for lunging , for pouncing .  

“I...” he managed to say, the words pulled from him like blood from stone, his instincts and focus tunnelling onto the Abyss in Poseidon’s gaze. Words felt clumsy, too Human for a tongue and throat made Inhuman , but Percy forced them out anyways, feeling his lips pull back, the corners of his lips sliding back towards his ears, making his mouth wider and wider and wider . “ My place. Mine . I had to find it. I had to , Dad, I needed it needed to Find It ...”  

The words came out muti-tonal, echoing unnaturally as Percy felt himself lose more of his Human Shape, yet it somehow felt more natural than even breathing. His fingers lengthened, gaining another knuckle, spindly and fragile in appearance, yet with the ability to tear through metal. His torso lengthened, as well, abdomen hollowing like a starving creature, ribs and spinal column disconnecting and reconnecting in ways that spoke of sinuous movement, for coiling and compressing. His talons thickened, the webbing between his fingers and toes becoming thicker. He could feel his eyes sliding slightly farther apart, feel it as a third eyelid slide, membranous and slick, over his Lantern-bright irises, adding a distinctly red color to the light that shone there. His hair rippled, as spiny ridge-like scales bloomed, and, at his temples, a set of black-feathered seagull wings unfolded, flapping briefly, making Percy feel light enough to escape any predator...  

Or catch any Prey that thinks it can escape .  

A low, thrumming croon , like Whalesong and tectonic-plates shifting, rppled out from Poseidon’s chest, expression hungrily, possessively adoring as he stared at Percy without either blinking or breathing, his own scales shimmering and flashing in a chorus of glee and joy and love as the smell of an oncoming storm and the churning tide flooded the room, seasalt and blood and Ichor settling on the back of everyone’s tongue. Percy instinctively dropped his monstrocity of a mouth open, breathing in the scent like a snake chasing its next meal, and Poseidon leaned forward so that his forehead pressed against Percy’s own, his Lure arching up and over them to shimmer and flash over the black, twisting tentacles of the Sea’s God-King, causing iridecent flickers to flash back in responce from the oil-slick depths.  

“What did you need to find, My Son?” Poseidon crooned, rumbled, thundered, the words whispered through crashing waves and quaking earth, falling softly against Percy’s skin like raindrops despite the Power they held. And Percy, helpless and overwhelmed and so very tired of all this already, Percy fell into the Depths of Poseidon’s crushing, consuming Love, and sighed long and slow. 

“ My Home , ” he breathed, hissed, sobbed, pressing his forehead to his Dad’s , finally, finally , letting his eyes fully close. “I had to find My Home ...” And, as if saying it was some sort of sign, all the tension that had been building in him fell away, draining like a plug had been pulled, and Percy fell forward as the fight-Hunt- Lunge energy disappeared with it. Slumping into the unflinching grp of his Dad’s arms, Percy’s bones cracked and shifted beneath his skin painlessly until he was once more in the form of his nine-year-old body, scaled and webbed and still Inhuman, but more People-Shaped than before, the only new parts that stayed behind were the small seagull wings that folded beneath his hair with barely a flutter, downy soft and barely the length of an average adult’s hand.  

...Fuck but he was tired .  

Burying his face into the side of Poseidon’s neck, his Rub rising up to cover his head from view, swaddling him in his Mom’s Love and all but tying him to his Dad like a baby-carrier, Percy curled up as much as he could. Immediately, Poseidon’s body vibrated with his adoring, Whalesong-rumble of Adoring-Possession, his large hand curling over the back of Percy’s head, hiding him further from view as he wrapped his other arm around Percy’s back, pinning him in even tighter. Lips soft as anemones brushed over the base of his Lure, and Percy sighed softly, the soft  Eh-Er call of a baby Alligator softly leaving his mouth as he rested against Poseidon’s chest trustingly.  

“...I think it is clear that My Son Ascended without aid, correct?” His Dad eventually stated to the room at large as Percy continued to hide away. He was so fucking done with this, he just wanted to go back to his Home and take a long ass nap. Every bit of energy he’d regained by napping with Hestia had fully left him and, honestly, he was feeling a little overwhelmed. Let Poseidon deal with the Olympians' bullshit, Percy was so done.  

“Indeed, it appears that way,” Hera’s voice stated slowly, consideringly, and Percy nuzzled further into his Dad’s neck, lips curling into a scowl against his will at her fucking tone , ugh. In response, the hand cradling his head flexes, fingertips kneading soothingly as he’s pressed impossibly further into his Dad’s hold, and Percy bites back a grumble as his Rug flexes and tightens soothingly as well. “Then, the matter of your... Theatrics is solved, correct?” A rumble of warning, the pulling back of the sea before a tsunami, the staticky stillness before a lightning strike, fills the air as Poseidon and Zeus no doubt lock eyes above Percy’s head. He doesn’t need to see it to know the feeling well, the measured gaze of two Unstoppable Forces seeing if they need to collide with the other’s Immovable Object...  

It’s Ego, by the way.  

The Immoveable Object, that is.  

“I have no further need to Rage,” Poseidon finally said, words measured and cold as the Arctic Tide, steady and threatening and mild as the too-still water hiding a deadly current. “And I trust there will be no need for me to do so in the future, correct, Brother ? Sister?” The answering rumble of thunder and pressure of Bow Your Head flared up in response, followed by the shrill, sharp cry of a peacock quickly quieted.  

“Indeed,” Hera’s voice cut through the air like a blade, cold and sharp and unforgiving. “Husband?”  

“You are dismissed ,” Zeus ground out, tone final as a gavel landing, and, suddenly, the air pressure itself shifted as the God-King vanished, his wife disappearing as well. Percy reluctantly turned his head so he could peer out from under his Rug and his Dad’s Hand, squinting a little as his newly grown seagull-wings ruffled their feathers against his temples...  

That was going to take a while to get used to.  

Demeter harrumphed and disappeared from her throne with a surge of wheat that rotted away to nothingness immediately after, leaving behind only the faint smell of mildew and mold. Dionysus left as well, dispersing in an almost violent splash of wine—or blood, or probably both—like a wannabe Sea Deity, and Artemis followed with the sound of rustling leaves and hoofbeats. Athena left in a rustle of wings, and Apollo left with a strummed cord and a giddy laugh that made the smell of rot stronger with heat . Aphrodite left next, stretching out in a deliberately provocative way while smiling her blood-red smile at Ares, leaving with a sigh of satin sliding against skin and the smell of blood and roses, while Ares followed with the snarl of an attack dog and the roar of gunfire. Hephaestus vanished soon after in the sound of hammers ringing.  

Soon, the only Olympians left were Poseidon and Hermes, and Hestia, of course, plus all of Percy’s Sea-Siblings.  

Seablings? Seablings worked.  

Speaking of Hermes, however, the Messenger God was bouncing on his toes, all of his wings a-flutter as he peered at Percy with a fascinated grin, making Percy immediately scowl at him. Hermes was the second-youngest Olympian, with only Dionysus being younger than him, and it showed in the way the constantly-moving God bounced around and radiated Little Shit Energy just as much as Kym did as he flounced around Poseidon in a playful, bird-like way. And Poseidon, despite all of Percy’s Before-Memories to the Contrary, was absolutely fond of the Messenger God...  

Or maybe Percy just missed out on what their actual relationship was, just as he missed out on the fact that his Dad Loved Him , which was very likely considering how fucking blatant his Dad was about it.  

“So, it’s a little late considering we’ve already met and all,” Hermes chirped at him, grinning brightly with wide, intense hare-eyes, his serpents twisting and coiling around him to peer at Percy as well, “ buuuuut ! Hi! I’m your Cousin, Hermes! God of Messengers, Thieves Travellers, la-dee-da, you get the point!” Percy scowled at him, baring his teeth with a hiss that only made the God’s shit-eating grin widen.  

“You’re an asshole,” Percy grumbled at him; immediately, one of Poseidon’s hair-tentacles twisted around and booped him on the nose sternly, making Percy’s eyes cross in surprise.  

“No cursing, Percy,” Poseidon scolded him gently, even as he cuddled Percy closer, swaying on his feet in time with the waves of the seas in his Chiton , making Percy press back against the hand on his head so he could scowl up at his Dad in offence, cheeks puffing out because he was physically nine and his stupid little baby face had baby fat and ugh . Poseidon’s eyes softened, his pupils widening in delight as he physically cooed at Percy, smiling almost-helplessly back at Percy’s scowling face, making the New God huff at him and sulkily look away to glare at Hermes, who was staring at him like a mix of cat-watching-a-laser and someone-cuddling-a-baby-duck. A pretty even mix of awww and HuntHuntHunt , Predator and Prey drives mixed evenly.  

Ugh.  

“Aw, don’t be like that, baby cousin!” Hermes grinned at him, and pulled a hand from behind his back, holding out...  

Another Gods Damned Angler Fish Plushy .  

It was teal and seafoam green tie-dye, with big anime eyes and a kitty-cat smile.  

Immediately, Percy hissed at him, making Hermes cackle with delight before, suddenly, the God was shoving the plushy into Percy’s arms and disappearing in a flare of light and the sound of rustling wings and feathers, a distinctly serpentine hiss echoing after.  

“He’s such a di—...Jerk,” Percy started, correcting himself when he spotted one of his Dad’s hair-tentacles rise in warning. “He’s a jerk .”  

“Hermes is just being playful, Percy,” Poseidon told him simply, fondly, even as he plucked the Plushy from Percy’s arms to peer at him with a bemused expression; Percy huffed, his ear-fins pinning back in embarrassment as he looked away from the toy, crossing his arms over his chest.  

“He keeps giving me those ,” he grumbled with a scowl. “He gives me one every time he sees me, ever since he found me taking care of his kids and a toddler. He does it every. Time .” Poseidon hummed softly, thoughtfully, with a soft smile on his face as he tucked the toy back into Percy’s arms, where he instinctively clutched it with a scowl, gills flaring out, chagrined, as Poseidon gave him another one of those adoring, possessive looks.  

Listen, just because he seriously liked the fact that he now knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that his Dad Loved Him , it didn’t mean he wanted to be treated like a fucking child . He was almost forty , okay, just because he was physically nine —  

...This was why he wanted to be a Hermit, fuck.  

“Hermes has always had a soft spot for children,” Poseidon told him, simply as he started walking towards the gathering of Sea Deities. “The fact that you’ve been helping his own children has probably helped as well.” Percy scowled down at the toy, wriggling around a bit until he could shove it into his bag with a grumble. “Don’t worry about it, Percy. For now, let’s get you home...” Percy looked up at him, ear-fins flaring in curiosity, and Poseidon flashed him a grin that was unfairly handsome, making Percy squint his eyes and scowl at him instinctively. “Atlantis, that is.” Percy blinked up at him, brows furrowing and seagull-wings fluffing up.  

(He deliberately ignored Kym’s loud, obnoxious awww.)  

“Is that... Okay?” Percy asked him cautiously, frowning a bit even as his Rug flexed around them; Poseidon’s hand, the one that had continued to cradle Percy’s head despite him no longer hiding his face, immediately started rubbing his head, fingertips kneading his skull tenderly even as something darkly possessive flashed over his Dad’s face.  

“You’re My Son , Percy,” he reassured him calmly, easily. “You will always be welcome anywhere I call home. Besides...” And here, Poseidon’s face softened, something almost wistful but also fond, making the aurora borealis of his eyes glitter and swirl. “Your Mother is waiting there for you.” Percy’s breath caught in his chest, eyes going wide as his Rug squeezed him reassuringly.  

Fuck.  

His Mom .  

He’d forgotten about his Mom .  

Shit.  

He was not prepared.  

“Let’s go,” Poseidon declared, completely unaware of the miniature panic attack Percy was having as he nodded towards his gathered Children. “We have a new Prince of Atlantis to introduce.” Kym and a few of the other more Chaotic of his Seablings immediately cheered and, with a splash of seawater—well, more of a minor flood, considering how many of his Seablings were gathered there—they all disappeared from Olympus.  

Fuck.  

Percy wasn’t ready.  

(Since when did that matter?)  

Notes:

Poseidon: *Yandere Vibes Intensify*
Percy: Yeah, ok, this is Fine.
Poseidon: Your Mom is waiting for you! :)
Percy:
Percy: OMFG I FORGOT MOM WAIT NO I'M NOT MENTALLY PREPARED FUCK
Poseidon: Let's go see your Mom~!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sorry for the wait, guys. IRL acted up, and literally the moment I was ready to work on this fic again, my fucking Laptop finally died (RIP, you lasted almost 7 years, I will miss you, this Chromebook isn't nearly as nice but I got it for $50 so it works lol)

Anyways, on to the Special Mentions!

ConsentDracula: I always thought it was ridiculous that Hephaestus was yeeted for being "Too Ugly" Like bitch that is a Godly Child of YOU and ZEUS do you really thing EITHER of you have the ability to make a PHYSICALLY UGLY child??? So, Headcannon of Hapheastus was born! Also Athena is 10000% a Daddy's Girl and I Judge Her for it.

Charmed101: Long review is Long! Thank you!! I had fun readng your reaction!

Hallowtide: While he didn't pretend to know "Nothing" I hope I conveyed enough of his "I'm Baby I know Nothing UwU" to come off as believable!

Reader93: While the con didnt get continued, don't worry! I have Plans(TM)

Optimisticinfluencerbouquet: Loved your Review lmao! Thanks!

therealsofa_com: Loved your review, so thanks! No Time Travel Reveal, mostly bc I personally hate that trope with a passion so I avoid it as much as possible, but also, consider: Zeus would 10000% smite Percy for "Attempting to Control Fate" or some stupid shit, so yeah. Thanks for reading!

ThePrincessDragon: Thanks for letting me know about the typo! You'll probably find more as we go along honestly lmao, sorry ahead of time XD

Frozen_Stardust: Lol Hades is Best Uncle hands down lol! Also, no worries, I have Plans(TM)!

Cat_Sama: TYSM for the long review! I appreciate it! Plans(TM) are awaiting no worries!

starsaber10: Not th 5/10 for Entry ;-; lol! To be fair, he just got hit upside the Head with Emotional Damage and ADHD lol

ethreamn: Long review is fun, thank you! Also, as stated in Beginning Note, no Perpollo, no worries!

Wamescat: lmfao Shots Fired indeed XD

Happyowl626: I love unique interpretations of the Gods! Especially those based around their Domains, even adjacently connected! People tend to get distracted by Aphrodite's Main Domains (Love & Romance & Sex) that they all forget that she is ALSO a War Goddess. Provocation goes Hand-in-Hand with that IMO. Thanks for reviewing!! Your comment was funny and fun! :D

El_Lauia: TYSM! This was super nice to see! X)

TaniwhaLake: Poseidon isn't Golden Retriever, he's a Cane Corso but he's deff that dog that adopts the family kitten and you're left being like (Gestures awkwardly) "It's his kitten now" lol!

ABloodyGoodTimeToDie: Thanks for the review! I think my favorite explaination of how the Big Three are as Parents came from the fic Serpents and Celestial Bronze (A fantastic HP/PJATO crossover that I hope is one day continued but x for doubt but STILL). The description of the kind of parents they were stuck with me and its how I picture them in my head now lol

Midnightloveless: Him biting Zeus could still happen down the road, who knows? Lol. As for the Domains: While Zeus DOES have the Upholding Fate Domain, it is a "Minor" Domain in comparison to several of his other ones, and while they WILL be at odds, it's not as bad as how hard Percy and Athena are gonna clash. After all, "Reckless Battle" is only the outcome when strategy FAILS lol. Thanks for reading!

rainy_frog: lol thanks for reviewing! Poseidon grounding Percy for a century and Percy having to stp & calculate how ling that would be is on point and funny lol!

BakaMondai: You got your wish!

kuro_neko_daemon: Go for it!! I'd love to see some art for them! (This goes for EVERYBODY btw!!)

Roziphontes: Long review is long, thank you! And, while I don't really mind the shp everyone saw, this will NOT be a ship fic, so no worries lol! Also, don't worry abot the Camera there are things that may or may not be Planned who knows lol

Negentropic: Lmao tysm love your review!!

Razorwhip_queen2: Hell yeah!! Art!! Go for it!!

To Everyone Whose Reactions oiled Down To "OMG A CLIFFHANGER YOU BITCH love you~!" Thank You For Reading!!! Mwahahahahahahaha!!!

Again, to reiterate: PLEASE Do NOT Comment just asked for an Update/When will I Update/Is This Abandoned. It isn't very encouraging. It's okay to be like "Can't wait for more!" and things like that but the more people are like "Is this abandoned?" or just "Are you gonna update soon?" the less I wanna work on things. I don't have an Update Schedule for a reason, all you've got to do is Bookmark the fic and keep an eye out guys. Thank you for reading!!

Notes:

Don't get me wrong, guys, I love me a good Time Travel Fix-It fic! I really do! But you know what I, personally, HATE doing?

Redoing something because something happened to the original. I LOATHE Redoing things because something outside my control undid my hard work. I will sooner say Fuck It and not do it again, than redo it.

And so, Percy? Adult, exhausted, more-God-than-Demigod-Percy? He's me in this. Lets see how that works out for him, shall we?