Please, Signal Boost This!

im gonna say it, and if youre white you do not get to comment, but in regards to that j-siper pocahontas au and the people in the comments of that post calling op out for whitewashing piper, i feel like we are focusing on the wrong thing here. just a little bit. the au itself is fucking abhorrent because it puts piper in the position of a girl, pocahontas, who was barely a teenager when she was kidnapped, sexually assaulted, married to a man against her will, and in the end, she died extremely young, and very far away from her home and family. disney took that story and romanticized the fuck out of it, to the point where it is unrecognizable. this movie perpetuates violence against native women. stop fucking making pocahontas j-siper aus.

angst, 11, “why are you still fighting?” 😢

[canon adjacent I guess, I don’t really know]

The enemy encircles Percy, who is on his knees, bloody and beaten. Demigods and monsters alike sneer and spit at him, calling him every awful thing they can think of. The son of Poseidon doesn’t move. He keeps his chin held high and looks forward, still gripping his sword in his hand, as if waiting for one last battle to begin.

Before him, the crowd begins to part, and soon the prodigal son of Hermes appears in front of him. Luke’s stride is slow and confident, with his sword sheathed at his hip. He looks down his nose at Percy, an evil smirk pinning the corner of his mouth to his cheek.

“Well, Percy, I tried to warn you that it would come to this,” Luke says as he stands over Percy.

Percy takes a shaky breath, his grip on Riptide tightening. “I’ve never been great at listening.”

“How many of your friends have you watched die?” Luke asks, pity in his voice.

“Too many,” Percy answers, his voice hoarse.

“And how many more would you watch die before you just surrender?”

Percy’s jaw tightens and he swallows hard, his green eyes losing focus.

Luke surges forward to bend down and grab fistfuls of Percy’s shirt. “Why are you still fighting?” Luke shouts in his face.

Percy lets out a small laugh, but a tear runs down his cheek. “Because being angry isn’t enough for me,” he answers.

Luke pushes Percy away with a frustrated grunt, his face contorting in disgust. “You think I wanted any of this?”

“I think you want all of it,” Percy replies. “You want to see everything burn because you’ve convinced yourself that once it does, you’ll finally feel peace. But the thing about fire, Luke, is that it’s never satisfied.”

Luke scoffs. “Don’t tell me, son of Poseidon, that you’re using that corny metaphor to tell me you’re here to put the fire out.”

Percy smiles, and his green eyes shine in the light of the torches his enemies bare all around him. “That’s a little corny, even for me,” he admits. “No, I’m… I’m here to make things right, finally.”

“And how are you gonna do that?”

Percy looks down at his sword, tilting his head curiously. “We started this together. It only seems right we end it together.”

The crowd around them becomes quiet and tense, as nervous murmurs begin to replace overconfident cheers.

Luke draws his sword and twirls it in his hand. “You never could beat me in a sword fight.”

Percy smiles again, and, still kneeling, places Riptide’s point on the ground in front of him. “I came close a few times, though, didn’t I?”

“There’s no ocean for miles, Percy,” Luke taunts. “There’s no way for you to heal. I’m afraid close to beating me is all you’ll ever get.”

“Pop quiz, Luke.” Percy says, raising Riptide just above his head. “When my dad’s obnoxious titles get rattled off, what’s the first one people say?”

Luke only has a minute to register the question, answering under his breath. “Earthshaker.”

Percy drives his sword’s tip into the earth,  

and the ground 

                             around them

                                                     c r u m b l e s. 

Resources:

abortionfinder.org

abortionfunds.org

lifebeat.org

plannedparenthoodaction.org

USA people! Buy NOTHING Feb 28 2025. Not anything. 24 hours. No spending. Buy the day before or after but nothing. NOTHING. February 28 2025. Not gas. Not milk. Not something on a gaming app. Not a penny spent. (Only option in a crisis is local small mom and pop. Nothing. Else.) Promise me. Commit. 1 day. 1 day to scare the shit out of them that they don't get to follow the bullshit executive orders. They don't get to be cowards. If they do, it costs. It costs.

Then, if you can join me for Phase 2. March 7 2025 thtough March 14 2025? No Amazon. None. 1 week. No orders. Not a single item. Not one ebook. Nothing. 1 week. Just 1.

If you live outside the USA boycott US products on February 28 2025 and stand in solidarity with us and also join us for the week of no Amazon.

Are you with me?

Spread the word.

riptide: chapter one 

Annabeth rolls her eyes, as per usual. “Here we go with the Mr. New York vibes. I get it, I’m from Virginia and don’t understand the city or whatever.”

“Get over yourself, Chase. All I’m saying is since that bank robbery last month, things have felt weird. Like something big is coming.”

“Could this big thing happen next Tuesday so I have more time to prepare for this job interview? Cause that would be great.”

“Oh, please! You’re gonna do so good in that interview they’re gonna beg you to start architecting on the spot. Trust me.”

“Can you even spell architecting?” Annabeth asks.

“Can you?”

“Fair enough.”

and they were roommates (chapter eight)

The apartment’s spotty radiator has been the bane of Annabeth’s existence all winter, but in a dog pile on the couch with her two favorite boys, the persistent draft is welcome if it means they’ll stay put. 

Percy’s voice drifts up from Annabeth’s lap, a bit too smug for her liking. “Bet you’re glad we got the big couch now, huh?” 

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” Annabeth lies. 

A smile creeps onto Percy’s face as he taps Grover’s temple. The boys started with Percy’s feet in Grover’s lap, but Grover slid to the side during the movie marathon. Now his cheek rests on Percy’s stomach. 

“Hey, G-Man, you know Annabeth wanted a loveseat? How the hell were we gonna fit you on a loveseat?” 

Grover mumbles something sounding like “food” and sinks further into Percy. 

Annabeth bites her lip. “Grover sleeps in the woods for fun, Perce. Not sure how much support you’re gonna get on that front.” 

Percy cranes his neck to peek at Grover. “Is he drooling on me?” His head falls back on Annabeth’s leg, which has long since fallen asleep under his torso. 

Annabeth doesn’t even pretend to look before she nods her head gravely. “Oh, absolutely.”

read on AO3

Fuck ICE

That judge who asked young children if they even knew what a lawyer was and then continued to proceed on their cases is a piece of shit and I hope he rots slowly while alive, he should have refused, what a pathetic evil motherfucker who actually spoke to these children face to face and still proceeded to treat them like criminals and send them off to god knows what kinda awful shit, I hope that sick fuck gets a very slow painful disease

The Horse and the Gun

“Men come West for one of two reasons, they’re looking for something, or something is looking for them. Which are you?”…

…“Looking for something,” he says.

The Sheriff tilts her head back, looking down her nose at him. “What’s your name.”

“Percy Jackson.”

“Well Mister Jackson, you’re full of shit…”

A percabeth western au

May 18, 2020. João Pedro Mattos Pinto was murdered by the police IN HIS HOME in São Gonçalo, Rio de Janeiro. he was only 14. when the police murdered him, he was PLAYING in his own backyard. his house now has at least 72 bullet holes in it’s walls. and his mom’s heart has one giant hole, that one type that is impossible to be ever filled again.

this happened exactly a week before George Floyd’s murder. João Pedro was black too.

it doesn’t matter where you from. all cops are bastards. all of them. brazillian ones. us cops. even the ones from your country. all of them serve the same racist purposes. 

João Pedro should be remembered. his life and Floyd’s matter so much.

so much respect for the protesters in Minneapolis.