#luzswork

Percy’s reaction to the familiar voice behind him was delayed by the violent flinch that went through his body

 After he gathered himself, he whipped around, sword raised as he came face to face with his best friend.

Ex-best friend, he had to remind himself. It was so easy to forget how (y/n) betrayed him as he looked upon her smirking face. She had no weapons in her hands, but he knew that didn’t matter.

He had gotten significantly taller since the last time he had seen her. They used to be about the same height, but now she looked up at him. Her face had gotten a bit slimmer as well, and her eyes held heavy bags of exhaustion. The grin on her face, however, was just as he remembered. Paired with the teasing look in her eyes and the way her head tilted to the side, it was the exact same look she had given him when she had cornered him in Capture the Flag.

And here she had captured him again, this time in the Labyrinth. 

He had known the risks of splitting off from the group, especially with Luke and his army wandering the Labyrinth’s corridors, but it was the perfect distraction. If (y/n) knew he was here, he knew Luke would know soon, if he didn’t already. All he could hope was that Annabeth and Rachel hadn’t been caught trying to find a way around Anataeus’ arena, which was being occupied by Luke.

“I did. I missed you a lot,” he finally responded to her question, his sword unwavering despite his long moment of silence. (y/n)’s grin widened, and Percy did his best to ignore the way his heart swelled.

“Aw, you’re so sweet,” she gushed, her tone far too casual for the situation. Her eyes looked past the blade in front of her and instead focused on his eyes, which were fixed on her arms. Her hands were tucked behind her back, but Percy watched for any movement as a sign that she was casting a spell, “I missed you too, Perce.”

“You know,” he started slowly, carefully, as his eyes drifted up to meet hers, “You wouldn’t have to miss me if you just came back to Camp,” he quickly realized his mistake as the smile dropped from (y/n)’s face and was replaced with a cold stare. He kept going anyway, “We can forget this whole Luke and Kronos thing and just go back to the way things were. We can be okay again-“

“The way things were?” (y/n)’s voice was calm as she repeated his words. Too calm, “Percy, do you remember the way things were for me?”

He remained silent, readjusting his grip on his sword. Despite the empty coldness of the corridor, his palms were slick with anxious sweat.

“I had nobody,” (y/n) continued, a layer of cold rage creeping into her voice, “They threw me into the Hermes cabin with half the fucking camp and expected me to be grateful to the Gods! The same Gods who send their own children off to sacrifice ourselves in their name! Does that not sound wrong to you? My mother is considered kind because she decided I was worthy of being claimed only after I got my powers, but has never cared enough to ever actually meet me.”

Percy swallowed the absurd amount of saliva that had pooled in his mouth. He would never admit it out loud, but he knew (y/n) was right. 

He would never forget his early days at camp, before he was turned into some mighty hero. Back then, he was seen as just another scrawny kid who just happened to be a child of the Big Three. A bit unusual, but nothing that anyone wanted to pay too much attention to. 

He always enjoyed being around (y/n), since she made him feel normal. The two demigods got along quickly, as they were both looking for a person. And for a couple years, they were each other’s person. The camp almost never saw one without the other. (y/n) knew everything about Percy, and Percy knew practically everything about (y/n). At least, he thought he did.

The worst moment of his life would always be that night last year when he got back from the quest to save Annabeth and Artemis. Not only did he have to tell Nico that his sister had died, but that was also the night when he learned that his best friend, his person, had been working with Luke and Kronos the whole time.

Percy had never been very good at regulating his emotions, and almost flooded the Camp several times following that night. Nobody blamed him. There’s no way to deal with something like that in a normal way.

“That’s not true,” he said, finally lowering his sword, and his steady voice surprised him. He felt as if he was going to cry, “You had me. We had each other. You decided to throw that away. Luke doesn’t give a shit about you, (y/n), he’s just using you for your powers,” Percy nearly missed the way (y/n) flinched at his words, “Once he gets what he wants, he’ll just throw you to the side-“

“You’re a liar,” (y/n) hissed, and Percy was able to detect a purple aura around her that made him take a step back, “Luke has told me about his visions. Visions of great things, not just for him, but for me as well! And if you join me, Percy, great things can come for you too.” Somewhere in the middle of her rant, she had gone from angry to practically pleading with him.

Percy’s mouth pushed itself into a frown as he felt the tears begin to form in his eyes, realizing that the girl in front of him was different from his friend. Something had happened. He wasn’t sure what, but this was not the same girl that he had picked strawberries with.

“(y/n)-“ he said her name for the first time since that night, stopping for a moment to fix his shaking voice, “Witch, you know I won’t do that. I can’t. If I did, I.. I wouldn’t be me anymore.”

(y/n) watched him, and for a moment, Percy liked to believe that she was how he remembered her. No crazy mood swings. No radical ideology that set them on opposite sides of the war. Just (y/n).

“I know,” her voice was quiet. Her eyes got a far off look to them, as if she were lost in thought.

“I don’t…” Percy paused once again as her eyes snapped to him, a bit surprised at their sharpness, “I don’t really think you’re you anymore, if we’re being honest.”

(y/n)’s eyes immediately dropped to the floor, and Percy knew he had struck something. The problem was that he wasn’t sure how to go about it.

“I don’t think so either,” (y/n) practically mumbled, looking anywhere but Percy, “Lately I’ve been feeling… Well, I don’t really know. I just feel weird. Like something’s not right.”

“Witch, I’m sorry,” he said, and he meant it. The torch behind him casted a ray of light onto her face, illustrating the stress lines that she definitely didn’t have a year ago. The glint in her eyes was gone, and replaced with a dull tiredness. Her hands, which he turned his attention back to, looked a bit odd.

He reached down and grabbed one, much faster than she could pull it away. Holding her wrist, he examined her fingers in the firelight, his eyes widening as he took in the charcoal-like color that had devoured the skin at her fingers and seemed to be creeping up to her wrists.

“What the hell is this?” He demanded, and (y/n) yanked her hand away, her eyes wide with what Percy recognized as panic. Without answering, she turned and began walking down the corridor that she had just followed Percy down.

She made it almost halfway down the corridor before a strong hand found her arm and made her stop. As she unwillingly turned back around, (y/n) found herself face-to-face with the same green eyes that used to reassure her any time someone made a snide comment about her abilities. Except now these eyes were filled with enough concern to make her feel nauseous.

“(y/n),” Percy repeated, firmer, with far more power than before, “What is going on with you? Is this because of Luke? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” (y/n) insisted, whatever was left of her confidence continuing to chip away. She had forgotten what Percy’s sad face could do to her, “This is my own doing. Just… don’t worry about it-“

“Your own doing?” Percy’s brows furrowed with such intensity that under any other circumstance (y/n) would’ve asked if he finally had a thought circulating in his head, “(y/n), is this because of your powers?”

She wasn’t sure why she didn’t just lie. Percy didn’t care about her. Not anymore. He had chosen to defend the Gods, and therefore he did not give a single shit about how horrible she had been treated throughout her life. At least, that’s what Luke had told her.

But this was Percy. Percy had been her best friend for years. He used to visit her every time she was sick, and he always made her bracelets during arts and crafts. 

(y/n) realized that her silence was answer enough as Percy’s worry lines grew deeper.

“(y/n),” Percy’s voice wavered as he took a step towards her, “Please don’t tell me that you’re killing yourself just to help Luke.”

“I’m not killing myself,” she replied, taking a step back, softly shrugging off his warm hand. She hadn’t realized how cold it was in the Labyrinth until she encountered another person, “It will go away. This is temporary. It’ll go away soon. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“You don’t sound too sure about that,” Percy noted the way she seemed to be trying to convince herself as well as him, “(y/n), I need you to know that-“

A loud cheer erupted, its muffled sound signaling it to be a bit further in the Labyrinth. Judging by the way (y/n) stood straighter, head perked like a cat, Percy figured that was Luke and his gang in the arena.

“Shit,” (y/n) muttered, and she seemed to be speaking more to herself than to Percy, “I was supposed to be following you. I mean, I was following you, for quite a bit actually. But I was supposed to corner you and knock you out. Then take you to the arena where Luke could watch you fight someone to the death while half-conscious.”

(y/n) nearly laughed at the startled look that appeared in Percy’s face.

“Relax, Bambi,” she rolled her eyes, “Obviously if I was gonna do that, I would’ve already. I just needed to distract you so you would forget where you came from and where your friends are.”

Percy’s mouth fell open. Shit. He had chased her down the corridor, completely losing track of which hallway he had just come down, as well as what little sense of special awareness he had in the magical maze.

“I’m sorry, Percy, I really am,” (y/n) said, her lips pressed together in a small frown, “I told Luke I couldn’t hurt you. He said he didn’t care about my moral code, but that goes both ways I suppose.”

When Percy looked down at (y/n), he could almost pretend that they were back at camp and he had just arrived for the start of the summer session. (y/n) always took a couple days to readjust to having a friend around, and it broke Percy’s heart to see her anxiously checking to see that he still cared about her.

“(y/n),” he started, and then stopped. What was there to say?

“I have to go,” she said. He knew it was an encouragement to continue.

But what could he say? Don’t go? Come back? There would be no point.

“I love you,” he surprised himself with how easy the words came out, “And I’m not mad at you. I never was. Please take care of yourself. For me.”

(y/n)’s head tilted to the side, and in the torchlight Percy could see the shine of tears in her eyes. Instead of saying anything, she walked into his already opening arms, wrapping hers around his torso. She felt his arms close around her, and for a moment she allowed herself to close her eyes and live in the warmth. He still smelled like salt water and the strawberries from the field that they used to hang out at. His body heat almost seemed to burn against her cold skin, but she ignored it.

“I love you too,” she said into his chest, a strange sense of guilt and anxiety beginning to pile up in her chest, “I’m so sorry for leaving like that, Percy. I’m so fucking sorry, I wish I cou-“

“Hey, hey, hey,” he said softly, bringing a hand up to stroke her hair, “We can save this for another time, yeah? You have to go and I need to find my friends.”

“Okay.”

And so (y/n) allowed herself a moment of comfort, of which she knew damn well she did not deserve for a multitude of reasons. And Percy allowed himself a moment with his person, who had already abandoned him and was seconds away from doing it again.

But the Labyrinth provided a sense of security. No watching eyes, nobody to accuse them of fraternizing with the enemy. They both knew the other was thinking the same thing, but they also knew that this would be a one time thing. 

“I actually have to go now,” it broke (y/n)’s heart all over again to break out of the hug with Percy, “But, uh, thank you.”

Percy merely nodded in response, not trusting his voice.

“And be careful,” (y/n) added, her eyes holding a sense of urgency, “Not just physically, but with who you trust, too. There’s a lot of things you don’t know, Percy.”

She turned and began walking away, getting closer and closer to a hallway that would take her Gods know where. All Percy knew was that was not where he wa supposed to be heading, and that once she turned the corner, she would be gone.

“(y/n),” he called, “Thank you.”

She returned his nod.

He had assumed that was the way things still were, despite his change in scenery. Building the Argo II had earned him a bit of cred amongst the other crew members, but it was still an unspoken agreement that everyone had their thing going on, and Leo had his. With all of the couples and lifelong friends, Leo just didn’t fit into any of that, and he had accepted it. 

Which was why he didn’t think twice before nearly sacrificing himself during a monster attack. After a straight week of flying, Festus needed a break, otherwise the ship might just stop moving and pummel into the Mediterranean Sea. Thus, they made a pit stop on some Mediterranean island that Leo didn’t know the name of. 

He didn’t remember exactly how it happened, just that he ended up being the one to try and lure the monster away, before ultimately introducing it to its fire-y doom. There was the large chance that the monster would pummel him or slice him open with its poisonous claws (he still wasn’t exactly sure what kind of monster it was, but he learned the hard way that a scratch from the claws made his head spin sideways and his vision go blurry), but he didn’t mind. Either he came back alive, or… well, it wasn’t something he thought about too much. 

He wasn’t surprised to see the looks of relief that came over everyone’s face at the sight of his very much alive body. Yeah, they cared. But not too much. 

He let Piper drag him down to a sitting position and began to apply some sort of ointment on to the slash across his shoulder that sat dangerously close to his neck. The ointment had a cooling sensation, like when you put toothpaste on your lips. He had to blink a couple times in order to focus his eyes. He suddenly realized he felt hot. Very hot. And his arms felt very heavy.

“…definitely out of it,” Piper said, and he turned his attention back to her, flinching at the sight of her face far too close to him, “-must have some sort of toxin…bet he doesn’t even know what’s going on.”

“Yes I do,” he muttered. His voice sounded loud in his ears, as if it were competing with the drum beat of his heart.

Piper turned her head back to him, “Whadja say?”

He knew she had heard him, so he didn’t bother repeating himself. His eyes scanned the group that hovered just out of reach. Their eyes held concern, not for him, but for how they would’ve felt had he not survived. He looked across the crowd again, and again, and again, and his face fell. Where was (y/n)?

“Does it hurt? Sorry,” Piper muttered, her eyes picking up on his frown as she pressed something against his wound. He didn’t know what on earth she was doing. He had lost sense of any feeling in that side of the body after she had put the ointment on him.

“No, it’s fine,” he said, offhandedly. If there was one person on the Argo II that he thought would care more, it was (y/n). Leo had connected with her because they were the only two who weren’t romantically involved with anyone on the ship, so they had a lot of movie nights and late night discussions on a variety of topics. While he knew they weren’t super close, he liked to think that they were still friends. So where the hell was she?

He looked over the faces again, as if somehow hoping that (y/n) would appear next to them. Hazel, Frank, Jason, Annabeth, Nico. Nico, Annabeth, Jason, Frank, Hazel. Hazel, Frank-

Wait, where was Percy?

“Oh my Gods!” The sound of (y/n)’s cry made him turn his head so quickly it startled Piper and made the side of his body with the cut tingle. Maybe it should hurt? He knew it definitely shouldn’t feel this way. But he didn’t care. Not right now. 

Piper moved out of the way, and before he knew it, (y/n)’s face was buried in his unharmed shoulder, her arms were thrown around his torso, and she was practically sitting on top of him.

Looking over her head, he watched as the other crew members all awkwardly found something else to do. Annabeth walked over to Percy, who had made his appearance by jogging out of the woods, not far behind (y/n).

“She was so frantic, I had to tell her we found him like, three times before she understood,” he said to Annabeth, his eyes meeting Leo’s from around ten feet away, and Leo realized that he was the “he” Percy was referring to, “As soon as I said he was alive, she started running. That girl is fast.”

“Well, whatever that thing injected into him was some sort of venom,” Annabeth said, “We don’t think it’s life-threatening, but he's as high as Olympus and doesn’t know what’s going on.”

Speaking of (y/n), it wasn’t until he noticed the growing wet spot on his shirt that he realized she was crying. A lot.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” he wrapped his arms around her. Her arms tightened their hold around his torso, and he winced. He might have a bruised rib. He brought his hand up to pet her hair, like he had done on several previous occasions. Her hair was so soft. It reminded him of a patch of sweet-smelling moss, so comforting and-

Without any notice, (y/n) was on the ground next to him, and she used her hands to shove him. Then she began to hit him, but not hard. At least, he didn’t think so. He couldn’t really feel it.

“The fuck?” he asked, surprised to see the angry look on her face.

“You- stupid- fucking- idiot!” (y/n) yelled, each word coming with another punch, “I thought you died! Why the fuck would you do that to me?”

The hitting had stopped, and she was looking at him as if she wanted a real answer. That made him think. Why did he do that to her?

“I dunno,” he said truthfully, and his lips felt heavy, “I wasn’t thinking.. ‘m sorry, (y/n).”

Watching the way he could barely sit up by himself, the anger slowly drained from (y/n)’s face, until all that was left was a sort of softness that Leo couldn’t place.

“Don’t do that shit ever again,” and suddenly she looked sad. Really sad, like she was about to start crying. She was that distraught over losing him?

“I won’t,” he said, and he meant it. If she cared that much about him… well, he cared too much about her to make her go through that again, “I promise.”

Her lips pressed together in an unstable line, and he opened his arms. Without hesitation, she accepted the invitation and hugged him again, this time her face pressed against his chest, her head tucked under his chin.

“‘m really sorry,” he muttered into her hair, his hand rubbing soft circles into her back. He still felt surprised. He didn’t know he meant this much to her. (y/n) was the type of person who didn’t let a lot of people in, so he knew it was a big deal for her to be holding onto him like he would disappear if she let go.

Percy and Annabeth watched from a good distance away, close enough to see the dazed but sensitive look on Leo’s face as he held (y/n), but far enough that the two demigods couldn’t hear them.

“I remember when we were like that,” Annabeth sighed, a sort of maternal look on her face.

“The one thing that kept me from dying was knowing that if I did, you would find me in the Underworld and make me regret it,” Percy grinned at the unamused stare that he received from his girlfriend.

The couple fell silent as they not-creepily continued to watch (y/n) and Leo.

“How long do you think it’ll take?” Percy asked.

“For them to realize they like each other, or for them to do something about it?” Annabeth asked.

“Both.”

“A long time.”

___________________________________________

You were smart enough to know when you were being used. As you watched President Snow make the announcement that the tributes for the third Quarter Quell would be reaped from the existing pool of victors, you knew you were being used. “As a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol,” he had said. 

The message couldn’t be clearer than if he’d come right out and said it. Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark, the first ever two victors of a single Game, had crossed him. Never in the Game’s seventy-three years of existence had two people made it out of that arena alive. Not even when they had sent double the amount of tributes. President Snow had been publicly humiliated on national television, and with no way to directly punish those responsible, he had found a way to discreetly take it out on the victors.

You picked at the plush velvet seat you had chosen. At the moment, District 10, your district, was having a Victor Meeting. These weren’t prevalent enough to be considered a “regular” event, but they happened quite often. They usually served as a group therapy session, an intervention of sorts, or to work out who would be mentoring the upcoming games, as well as strategies to drill into the tributes’ heads. Phrases like “find animals to find water”, “stand out but not too much”, and “never trust anyone” were repeated to the point of exhaustion. 

The second rule had been implemented by you. Stand out, but not too much. After winning the 68th Hunger Games at the age of 14, three years after Finnick Odair set the record for the youngest victor, you got cocky and attention-hungry. In Panem, you became a celebrity figure that was seen as an icon throughout the Capitol. The nation adored your youthful beauty and your quick wit. For the first six months after your Game, you were treated like royalty.

Then the Victory Tour came around. Let’s just say that you quickly realized that the citizens of the Capitol wanted you for much more than your charm.

Many of the District 10 Victor Meetings served as an intervention for you, whenever your substance abuse got particularly bad (which was very often.) While you weren’t as obvious with your struggles as Haymitch Albernathy, those around you knew why you spent so much time in the bathroom.

“Well, there’s no use beating around the bush,” said Nox Nicholo, a broad shouldered, beast of a man. He won the 45th Hunger Games almost thirty years ago, and he spends his days the same way he did before he won: herding cattle. District 10 specialized in the livestock industry, which meant people either spent their days raising cattle or slaughtering them. You did the latter, “Is anyone volunteering to go back there?”

There, of course, referring to the Games. The arena. The place where four out of the five people sitting in this room would have to return, two as mentors and two as tributes.

Your eyes shifted between the two other female victors of the District, Fawn and Paloma. Fawn was around your age, having won the games a few years ago at the age of 17. Paloma was a bit older, having both a husband and two little kids. No offense to either of them, but they were the type of victors that hid until they were the last ones left.

Shit. You knew what you had to do.

“I’ll go,” you look up for the first time, and pretend not to see the surprised looks that were passed around. The others probably thought you had ignored their requests and showed up wasted once again, but here you were, sober as a judge.

“(y/n), you don’t have to-“ Paloma tried to say, but she stopped talking at the sight of your head shaking.

“I’ll go,” you repeat, this time firmer, leaving no room for objections.

“I’ll go, too,” the only other male Victor from District 10, Adonis, spoke up. He was a bit older, and you didn’t know anything about him.

“I’ll mentor,” Fawn offered.

“Yeah, I will too,”  Nox volunteered, offering you a reassuring smile, which you tiredly returned.

Out of the room, there were a few Capitol favorites. Nox was the obvious victor, towering well over six feet, and his interviews were always lighthearted. Another favorite was Fawn, because of her quick tongue and voice of an angel.

It was more of a quiet understanding that out of the five District 10 Victors, you were the favorite. You were the golden girl of Panem, the hot young thing. It was also a quiet understanding that you hated every goddamn minute of it. You hated every interview, every time you would leave the Victor’s Village of District 10 and find everyone staring at you, and most of all you hated the fact that all of Panem wanted you to date Finnick Odair.

It wasn’t that you hated Finnick Odair, you loved him, actually. He had quickly become your best friend not long after your Victory Tour. No, you didn’t hate him. You hated the fantasy that the Capitol had created. The two fan favorites, the two victors who had gone through so much of the same trauma. You hated the impatient expectation that one day the two of you would televise your wedding for the whole goddamn world to see. Whether or not you truly felt this way about Finnick was irrelevant. You refused to satisfy the Capitol’s fantasies any more than you already had to.

“Then it’s settled,” Nox sighed, standing up. There was something about his movements that provided a sense of finality, “Happy Hunger Games.”

“May the odds be in our favor,” you muttered, almost sarcastically. 

table of contents !

Chapter One : New Captain Alert!

Chapter Two : The Vulture

order of publication

she got, she got away

love is a gentle thing!

maybe i lost my mind! (no one noticed)

order of chronology

love is a gentle thing!

maybe i lost my mind! (no one noticed)

she got, she got away