Chapter Text
Percy wasn't sure what it was, but there was a shift within camp. It has not happened recently, but over a few months. The air seemed more lively, Mr.D kept looking at him more curiously, and the group of gods eating him had asked him odd questions. His own dad was even acting weird, which wasn't exactly comforting.
The odd flashes of tasting camp food were becoming more frequent, too, much more than usual. He sighs heavily, leaning back on the bench as the Apollo cabin leads the camp in songs, humming along as he goes to stand to get a stick and a marshmallow. He pauses, however, when a kid slumps against him. Poor thing probably tuckered out from the day.
"Passed out before the best part, kid." He teases, brushing their hair aside. A Hermes kid, judging by the messy hair and sharper features, despite being so young. He shifts slightly, not surprised to feel a warm feeling build in his chest. It usually did when he was around the younger kids nowadays.
"I'll take him to bed." He says, pulling the kid into his arms with a fond smile, Conner gives a thumbs up as Percy stands. He felt..oddly taller than usual, maybe he was getting old. It felt like he had been 17 forever now. Still, he tucks the kid against his chest, heading through the woods towards the cabins.
The night was peaceful, crickets chirping and fireflies lighting through the air. Druids heading back to their trees for sleep. It was..peaceful. His lips quirk upwards, more so when he torches slowly come into view. The weight in his arms seemed to lessen, pausing when the kid seemed... a lot smaller.
"Alright..a little weird," he mumbles, stepping towards the Hermes cabin, freezing when he sees that the door appears smaller than usual. "More weird," he mumbles. Things seemed smaller; they really shouldn't, especially the kid, settled in the crook of his arm.
That warm feeling in his chest turned hollow, the sudden urge to swallow the kid worming its way into his thoughts.
"Okay. Okay, not panicking oh-" He breathes out, cramming himself through the door and carefully tucking the boy into the first bed he sees. This wasn't happening. He did not just have the urge to eat a kid. He half-heartedly tosses a blanket on the bed before suddenly darting out of the cabin.
"It's fine. It's great. I'm fine." He whispers to himself. This was just him being tired; he just needed to sleep or something. The overwhelming taste of marshmallows flooded his mouth, nearly making him trip, but he rammed into a tree he hadn't noticed. He groans as he stumbles back, the familiar feeling of warm blood on his forehead. He scowls, bringing a hand up and wiping the blood away, only to find it was gold.
Gold.
A hysterical laugh escapes him.
He felt sick.
The air didn't feel like enough. He felt like he was drowning again, stuck in that stupid muddy bog, with the earth enclosing everywhere, suffocating him, stealing his breath, and clogging his lungs. Tears burned in his eyes before streaming down his face, mixing with the shimmering of golden blood. He was a god. He was immortal now; he wasn't going to die. He couldn't.
Gasping breaths tore from his lungs, sobs stinging his entire being.
It couldn't be right. He was just seeing things. He takes a shuddering breath, his hands fumbling for his pocket before bringing out his weapon. A trick of the light. He took the cap off, pleading, begging for it to be a trick of the light as he made a slice on his wrist. Not only had it not hurt, but golden ichor oozed lazily out of the wound as it slowly closed up.
He wasn't sure how long he sat there on his knees, just waiting for the pain to start, pain that wasn't coming, much to his distress. The ache in his middle, however, was sorta like pain. He latched onto the feeling nearly desperately, holding onto the discomfort and the stinging, bitter sensation that came from it. He briefly remembered the gods mentioning it. It was a feeling of emptiness or incompleteness. But it was something. Time seemed to sit still, Percy sitting there, unsure of how to even begin to process this.
When a hand settled on his shoulder, he slowly glanced upwards. Annabeth. The tears welled in his eyes again as his girlfriend sank to her knees, wrapping her arms around him.
"Percy, hey, what's wrong?"
Her voice felt like a breath of fresh air. He kept his arms wrapped around her, the feeling of closeness not enough. It wasn't enough; he needed to feel her warmth closer, he needed her safe, away from dangers. A shiver runs down his spine, and he gags heavily.
"Something's wrong." He croaks out, feeling himself trembling. He couldn't do that to Annabeth, he couldn't.. He already shouldn't be getting these urges.
She didn't shove away from him, which Percy could not be more thankful for. Instead, he found that the grip was tighter, not just from his end. An arm lifts up, lightly brushing against his face, but it feels too small. He had been taller than Annabeth for some time now, but this-this was wrong. Not natural. A feeling of fingers ghosts over his forehead where the wound had been, touching the slick texture of ichor, wiping it away.
"Oh, Percy." That broke the dam again, tears flowing freely down his cheeks. He couldn't feel the sting he was so used to coming with the tears, the dry feeling in his throat nowhere to be found. Every day, human things that had been annoying now made him want to sob endlessly. His grip tightens more before releasing. What if he was squeezing too hard? He couldn't precisely distinguish anything at the moment.
Annabeth still didn't leave much to his relief, instead cupping his cheeks in her hands. She was smaller. No, he was bigger. He was much bigger, and her hands were small. She was small. The pain in his gut tore into him, and despite the fear, he relished the feeling of some pain. He couldn't hurt her if he did. Percy wasn't sure what he'd do. Blame himself, sure, but the idea that he was the one who-
"Percy, breathe." Her voice was like a riptide, pulling him back into the present. It was like a cooling feeling flooding through his veins. He takes a deep breath, feeling his chest expanding as he focuses on his breathing. He didn't need to breathe; he knew that, but it still soothed him with the familiarity.
He didn't know how long they sat there.
Annabeth's arms were steady. Her voice was steady. But Percy wasn't. He felt like his insides were a puddle on strings barely holding their shape.
She held his face, brushing a thumb across his cheek like he was something precious instead of something dangerous, something she couldn't control. He wanted to say something, anything, but his mouth was full of sea salt and grief. He didn't know what he had thought. Were the weird cravings just stress? That the flashes of divine memory were nightmares?
Annabeth's face turned sharp, analytical. Her mind was already racing, putting pieces together. She breaks the silence of the crickets and wind through the trees.
"Did you agree to anything?" she asked, voice low.
Percy shook his head so hard it made him dizzy.
"No. At least—no one told me. I mean, there were moments. My dad's been looking at me weird. Mr. D hasn't insulted me in weeks. The other gods..." He clenched his fists. "They've been asking questions. About how I feel. If I've been 'tired' lately. Or 'disconnected.'"
Annabeth's jaw tightened.
"Like they were... preparing you."
A sour laugh twisted out of him.
"Like they were trying to warn me."
That was the worst part. It felt planned. Like the gods had already decided what he would become, and were just waiting for him to catch up. He didn't remember saying yes. But maybe you didn't need to, if you were the right kind of tool.
"I almost ate a kid, Annabeth," he said suddenly, voice hoarse. "I held him, and he felt.... I wanted to protect him, but I also wanted to-" His mouth snapped shut, and his hands shook. "I don't want to be something that does that."
Annabeth flinched as if the words physically hurt. Her hands dropped to his, fingers threading through his tightly clenched fists. "You're not something, Seaweed Brain. You're still you."
"I'm not sure that's true anymore."
"It is." She said it like a fact, like geometry. "And if it's not... then we figure out what's happening. Together."
He didn't answer, not for a long moment. But he leaned forward, burying his face in her shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent of her shampoo and cedarwood and a trace of ash from the campfire. It helped. A little.
"What if I forget what it's like to be me?" he asked her quietly, his voice muffled.
"Then I'll remind you. Every time," she responded without any hesitation. "Just like I did in the pit. I know who you are, Percy, and you aren't a monster." She says firmly. He doesn't dare look at her, instead swallowing thickly. The dull ache in his middle was roaring to life again. Could he not have had a second of fondness before this stupid curse thing happened?
He wanted to believe that. He really did.
Percy swallowed again, suddenly aware of how wrong his body felt. Not sick, just off. Like he'd been stuffed into something too small. His senses were too sharp. His emotions are too broad. That tearing in his middle becoming stronger. He pushes Annabeth away, standing. It was sudden, and she seemed surprised, overseeing him. She was smaller now, but he was still getting bigger. Like his body knew it would be easier with her smaller. He couldn't do this, not to her, to anyone.
"I'm going to be sick." He mumbles, turning away from her. The shifting of leaves, the light crunching of her walking to him, put every nerve he had in a whirlpool of anxiety.
He jolts, the feeling goes on his hands on his knee. Probably the only place she could reach at the moment. His head was already brushing the lower branches of the surrounding trees.
"No- I'll hurt you-"
"Percy," she said firmly, tugging his gaze back to her. "You won't."
"But I'm- look at me. I'm not-" His breath caught. A sob tore out of him, half-gasp, half-growl. "Everything's small. The trees. The doors. You-Annabeth, you're tiny."
She was. Her hands barely spanned his palm now. She'd always been small next to him, but now it was like watching a mortal speak to a statue. He fell to his knees, shaking, unsure if he could stand at the moment. Her hands grasping his own, well, more of his fingers, unable to completely wrap hers around his.
And still, her grip didn't waver.
"Then I'll yell louder," she said simply. "If you forget what matters, I'll remind you. If you can't feel your way back, I'll drag you. You're still you. I can see it in your eyes."
He wanted to believe that. Gods, he wanted to.
But the ache in his chest was spreading. Not pain. Just… emptiness. Like a void cracking wider in his core. He'd held the weight of the sky. This felt heavier. His soul was expanding in all directions, and his body was struggling to contain it, but it didn't hurt; it was just an ache.
Involuntarily, he felt his mouth water. To his horror, he could practically feel the saliva building up, needing to swallow to avoid drooling.
He finally pulled himself together enough to look at Annabeth, her gaze soft. There wasn't an ounce of fear or judgment. Instead, she stands on her tip toes, stretching up. Wordlessly, he leans down, closing his eyes as she cups his cheek with her hand. Warm. He could focus on the fact that she was warm, alive, and safe.
"You glow." She murmurs, curiosity tinging her tone. His eyes snapped open, going to ask what she meant, before he felt his cheeks flush with color. Right. Someone had explained it to him before, and even now, he could see a sea green type of color softly emitting from his mouth.
"It's..Um..I mean.." He stumbles over his words, lowering himself more. Saliva still producing at an uncomfortable rate. Of course, Annabeth would be curious. Part of him sparked with a protective rage, more directed at Athena. It was safe, so why wouldn't she want to share that with her own daughter?
Guilt bubbled up the next second. He was scared to do it, too. Terrified. She was one of the most important people in his life; he would rather die than have her harmed.
"It's a family thing, Dad...he glows, so does Triton, but gods can sorta change their innards." The more he spoke, the more he felt calm, at peace. They were just at the beach laughing at how gross the gods were, which was something normal. He takes a breath, hesitantly opening his mouth, lowering more towards her height, her hand falling from his cheek.
The soft glow illuminates her face. The tired expression she always held softened, and he could practically feel it fading away. Was this... what the gods saw? Annabeth looked so fragile right now, fragile and..tired. He lifts a hand up, brushing it against her cheek.
Without much warning, she sticks her hand into his mouth, causing him to jerk back slightly. That doesn't deter her in the slightest. Annabeth laughs; the sound is so perfect to him. His cheeks darken, the glow brightening as he leans back down. More embarrassment flooded his system when he realized a trail of saliva had clung to her hand.
"That's..gross, sorry." He mumbles, her voice wavering. Yet again, surprised when Annabeth's laughter continued, her expression full of warmth and curiosity. Oh- OH, that's right, she rarely got 'tummy time' as Conner and Travis put it.
"Not really." She says her voice is just as gentle. Her hand was back in his mouth, preventing him from answering. Her fingers splay out against his tongue, the feeling making him drool slightly. Much to his embarrassment, he noticed it glowed too. Great.
He wasn't sure where to look either, his gaze falling to Annbeth more often than not as she spread her fingers out, pressing more against his tongue, feeling the texture. He couldn't stop the muscle from twitching, curling awkwardly around her palm and wrist at times as it moved under her. Her hands weren't soft; they were rough, filled with calluses from years of weapon work.
That hollow, bitter feeling exploded in his chest, and with little thought, he swallowed, feeling her jerk forward, the sense of something foreign in his throat causing him to freeze. Just as he tensed, ready to push Annabeth back, he felt her press her other hand inside. Past his teeth, straight to the back of his mouth, causing him to swallow out of reflex, both hands firmly pressed against each other. He could barely see her anyway at this angle, her face at the entrance of his mouth.
"Eager seaweed brain?" She teases, the normalcy of her just accepting it, making it hard to fear it. She wasn't scared or begging for her life, no, it was... calm, peaceful even. Yes, being swallowed was terrifying at times, but ultimately when inside..
He swallows again, her heart beating faster. Not because it needed to, but due to habit. His hands rest on her hips as he swallows again, guiding her inside his mouth. His tongue shielding her from his teeth as his muscles pulled her into his throat.
He tried not to think about how he could feel his throat expanding with her presence, that he was swallowing her alive. He squeezes his eyes shut, getting into the rhythm of swallowing and guiding her inside. Soon, the bitter feeling disappeared as he felt her sliding into his middle. His lips closed once her feet slipped inside.
His hands hovered by his mouth, and he felt his stomach expanding. It.. shouldn't be that much, he looks to his middle, surprised to see that even if he felt like he was bursting, there was barely a bump.
"How does it feel?"
"What?" he rasps, before clearing his throat. How did he answer that? "It..I..I feel weird. Heavy like..eating a huge piece of cake", he admits after a second; his cheeks flushing when she laughs at him again. She wasn't scared or upset, she was just... relaxed.
He hesitantly rests a hand over his middle, rubbing inward like he had felt before. He jolts slightly when a weight settles more against the touch. Oh man..this was much different than he thought it would be.
"Nothing.. It's like..I just like it when we're on the couch at Mom's place, under a blanket. It's..feeling you close and feeling safe." His voice comes out in a whisper, pressing in to feel her form. He could see why his dad found this scary. Annabeth was as close as she could get, and yet he felt... like she wasn't close enough.
"That's sweet." She murmurs back, the exhaustion clear in her voice. She pressed closer, Percy able to see the vague outline of her body through his skin. It was wrong- it was wrong, he shouldn't have done-
"Selfishly.. I'm glad. This will be better than that owl."
Percy froze, unsure of what to say, before satisfaction curled around his gut like a nice bowl of soup. He would be the reason why she slept so well tonight.
A God.
He was a god now. He could be the one to soothe nightmares away, to be a protector who kept demigods safe.
Annabeth was asleep; he could tell by the slow, steady breaths. He curls slightly more around her form, relishing the warmth her being brings to him.
The stars blinked overhead like silent witnesses, their light cold and distant. Percy sat slumped under the old tree near the edge of the cabins, his back pressed to the rough bark. He had calmed, mostly. His breathing was steady now, though his fingers still twitched, as if trying to remember what panic had felt like before the ichor dulled everything.
Annabeth was still tucked deep inside his gut; her presence was his tether, the only thing keeping him from drifting entirely.
Everything was heightened now, whispers of prayers from demigods he knew, to demigods he didn't know. Tastes of offerings swirling around within his mouth. He felt like he was on high alert.
So when the grass rustled nearby, Percy's body tensed instinctively, though Annabeth didn't move other than shifting.
"Easy, Peter Johnson," came a dry, clipped voice. Then followed by a "Found him" that seemed to echo throughout the woods. Percy didn't need to look to know who it was. The voice was unmistakable, laced with irritation, boredom, and something underneath it that was far too close to concern for Mr. D.
A moment later, the air shifted. The breeze carried with it the scent of salt, seaweed, and something ancient. Percy felt it before he saw him, like the ocean pulling back before a wave hit.
Poseidon.
He raised his eyes, not knowing what to expect. His father stood there, arms crossed, trident in hand, looking…tired. Not angry. Not stern. Just quiet.
Dionysus didn't look much different than usual, save for the fact that his ever-present Diet Coke can was missing, and his eyes, instead of being unfocused or distant, were pinned directly on Percy.
"I see you've had a moment," Mr. D said, gesturing vaguely to him under the tree.
"I didn't ask for this," Percy finally muttered, voice hoarse.
Poseidon stepped forward, gaze softening. "I know."
His father knelt, lowering the trident and setting it aside in the grass. He looked different up close, not in power but in presence, less like a god and more like a man who hadn't figured out how to comfort his son. He felt normal for the first time Percy had ever met him. Was that because he was a god too? Annabeth shifts again in his gut, the movement causing him to flinch from his father's gaze.
"You've known," Percy accused, though there was no heat behind it.
"We suspected," Poseidon admitted. "The cravings. The fierceness of your protectiveness is a connection forming between you and Olympus. It's been happening slowly."
Percy swallowed hard, the taste of marshmallows in his throat sickeningly sweet. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Dionysus snorted. "Because you're dramatic, and you'd panic. Case in point."
Poseidon gave the wine god a sharp look. Dionysus raised his hands innocently before his expression shifted to something more serious." Being a god doesn't erase what you were. It just makes it harder to hold onto."
Silence followed, save for the crickets.
Percy leaned forward, resting his forehead against his knees. The feeling of Annabeth shifting brought him some peace. Safe. She was safe, but.. "I don't want this."
Poseidon placed a steadying hand on his son's back. "Then we'll find a way. You're not alone in this."
Dionysus cleared his throat. "And if you eat one of my kids, I will turn you into a grapevine. Just putting that out there."
Percy almost smiled.
Almost.
"I just wanted a marshmallow," he muttered, voice muffled in his arms.
The taste of marshmallow was the only thing he could taste. Was this godhood? Marshmallows and prayers?
A near hysterical laugh escapes him, Poseidon's gaze softening as he offers a hand to the demigod.
It takes a moment before Percy accepts it, the god pulling him to his feet. The weight inside was different, like using an unbalanced sword, only he was the sword. His hands rest on his middle, and both gods seem confused for a moment before Dionysus has an expression that is surprisingly close to pity.
"It's fine," Percy whispers, unable to keep his hands off his middle, off of Annabeth. Wisely, neither god commented on it, instead leading Percy to his cabin like some sort of bodyguard escort. It was fine. Annabeth had been willing; she was safe...right?
Almost as if she could sense his nerves, she presses closer to his hands, a sense of relief able to soothe his fears. The owl could only do so much when it came to nightmares; this had to feel better. At least Percy hoped.
He didn't say anything all the way to his cabin, taking a small breath in as he stepped inside. The inside of the cabin was quiet, washed in blue light from the glowing ceiling mural of the sea. The soft rush of waves filled the space, a comfort normally.
Now, it felt like too much.
Too loud. Too symbolic.
Too final.
Percy sat on his bed, tenderly keeping his movements smooth and calculated. Dionysus looked between the two, Percy barely hearing an odd whispering from the two.
"Well, I suppose I should make sure none of the other campers have ended up in someone else's gut." He says wryly, though his tone wasn't as sharp or bored as it normally was. Percy gave a half-hearted wave, not moving from his spot, while Poseidon stood near the window, arms folded behind his back. Neither of them spoke for a long moment.
Percy finally broke the silence, his voice low.
"I thought you said I wouldn't have to be a god."
Poseidon turned slowly.
"I did. And I meant it."
"Then what the Hades is happening to me?" His voice cracked on the last word, more hurt than anger. Poseidon approached, lowering himself onto the bed opposite his son. Percy felt an odd ripping feeling to shove the god away. He was the only thing between Annabeth getting hurt and not.
"There are forces in the cosmos that don't ask for permission. You were never meant to ascend, but the Fates… they seem to have different plans."
"That's not comforting," Percy muttered. He hated how Poseidon's lips curved into something that might have been a smile, the only saving grace being that it was sad and small.
"No. I imagine it's not."
Percy leaned back against the headboard, taking in the weight in his gut, his hands protectively resting on the small lump that was his girlfriend. All he could do was stare up at the ceiling for a moment. The painted hippocampi swam lazily across the domed night sea above him. The cabin had changed since the wars had ended; it was less like a regular camp cabin and more like the undersea palace Poseidon had, though it remained the same size on the outside.
"I don't want to become like them. Like you." Percy had meant it to be sharp, but regretted his tone the moment it left his lips.
Poseidon didn't flinch. He looked at his son with a kind of acceptance that hurt worse than anger. Percy's gaze cast to his own middle inside. He was still tall, large, and wrong.
Percy hesitated, then asked the question that had been burning inside him since the ichor first touched his skin.
"Did you know this would happen when you claimed me?"
Poseidon's eyes darkened like storm clouds on the horizon.
"No. When I claimed you, I knew it would be a battle to keep you alive," he answers truthfully. Percy was thankful for the honesty. Everyone always tried to sugarcoat things, and he was done.
He didn't have an answer for that. So he said nothing.
Poseidon leaned forward slightly, his gaze more intense now. It made him a bit uncomfortable, tensing until Annabeth let an annoyed grunt out.
"But what's happening doesn't mean your humanity is lost. That is a choice. One you still get to make." Poseidon seemed dead set on that, a true force of nature. This time, however, it didn't make him feel like a drop in the ocean; it just felt like when his mom was hell bent on making sure he got back into school. Sure of herself even if it wasn't in her control.
Before Percy could respond, there was a knock at the door.
Poseidon stood and opened it, revealing Chiron in his wheelchair form, brows furrowed, his gaze falling to Percy's middle. The teen was really starting to hate this. He tries to keep the sneer off his face. He liked Chrion, he really did, but everyone staring at his middle was putting his nerves on a 10.
"You called?" the centaur said quietly.
"Come in. We need your wisdom." Poseidon nodded, stepping aside so the centaur could join them.
Chiron entered, glancing at Percy with a mixture of concern and curiosity. "I take it… the transformation has begun?"
"You knew?" Percy tilted his head. Trying to keep the hurt out of his tone as he looked at his mentor.
"I suspected," Chiron admitted. "The signs have been building. Your aura has been fluctuating, and your connection to Olympus is growing stronger. And the cravings…" His face grew more solemn. "It has happened before, I just... hoped it was not."
"That's not fair," Percy said. "I didn't ask to survive Tartarus. I didn't ask to fight Titans or giants," he hisses out, his voice growing louder with each word. He turned down godhood so many times, blatantly saying no. He hated that he felt the tears sliding down his face before he realized they were coming.
"No. But you did. And that changed things." Chiron explains, wheeling in further. Percy sank more into the bed, trying to focus on the feeling of stinging that should be coming with the tears. It didn't form, no matter how much he willed it.
"Can it be stopped?" Percy whispers, looking between the two. When he didn't get an answer, he figured it was a no. It had already happened. He already knew he didn't need to breathe, that he had no need for a heartbeat anymore...
Percy swallowed hard. "I-" He couldn't even finish the sentence. "I wanted to and I..I did. I gave in, it almost wasn't Annabeth."
Chiron's eyes softened. "I know. The first urges are the worst. You resisted. That means something."
Poseidon rested a hand on Percy's shoulder. "It means everything. It is not an easy feeling to ignore my son." That was something that Percy knew painfully well now.
"I want to be alone." He mumbles after a second. Both of them seemed surprised until Percy pulled the covers up over himself. "Just..please, I want to pretend that I can still get tired."
Poseidon nods slowly before crossing the cabin. It's a silent affair, but Poseidon carefully lifts the blanket up further, tucking the boy in. No comments were made about the girl tucked inside him; there was just silence.
He can hear the footsteps and the creak of the wheelchair as the two leave.
The door closed behind them, leaving Percy in the soft glow of ocean light. He lay back on the bed, and the ache and bitter feeling were finally gone.
Percy wasn't sure when he drifted off.
It was somewhere between the quiet pressure of Annabeth curling deeper into him and the soft lapping of ocean waves echoing through his cabin walls. Sleep had felt distant, foreign. Gods didn't need it. But he wasn't a full god, was he?
Or maybe he was. He didn't know anymore.
All he knew was that he eventually slumped backward on the bed, hand still splayed protectively across his middle. Soft whispers filled his head, and the strong taste of marshmallow flooded his senses. It was overwhelming, at the same time, it was comforting. Voices he knew and didn't swirling in his mind as his consciousness crashed into darkness. He had never had such a silent dream before. It was... odd, it was so quiet.
The taste of marshmallows was the last thing he recognized before he fully drifted off.