Fall (Percy Jackson x Reader)

thirty-three

thank y'all so much for 70k 🤍

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this chapter contains descriptions of blood, injuries, and what certain groups may determine as extreme violence. please read with discretion.
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also, this is the final chapter of Fall, but please keep scrolling as multiple parts have been updated today :)
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Two minutes into combat, and (Y/N) has already lost track of where her friends are.

Her skin, slick with sweat and blood, flares occasionally with the unearthly glow of Kronos' sarcophagus. Strands of hair pull loose from her braid, sticking to her temples and cheeks as she weaves and spins through her attackers. The whole situation gets on her nerves.

It wasn't that they were better, they were just persistent.

Especially Evander. That son of a bitch never seemed to take a hint and quit. Apparently, his character had rubbed off on the rest of Luke's crew.

She would slice a leg, and they put their weight on it anyway. She'd knock someone to the ground, and a few moments later they were right back on their feet.

(Y/N) reluctantly has to admire their resolve. That doesn't keep it from annoying her, though.

Panting briefly after kicking a demigod in the stomach, she steps away. "Just"—she starts, groaning once he charges at her again; easily, she maneuvers around his stumbling weight, pushing him so that his momentum sends him to the ground—"stay the fuck down." Her words are accentuated by grunts of exertion as she fends off other half-bloods' attacks, halting with each blow she sends to their bodies.

Eventually, she resorts to slamming a foot down, creating a small shock through the ground that sends her opponents careening. With a flick of her wrist, large thorns shoot up from around the demigods, interlocking in individual conical cages. She sends a wary glance at Evander before creating roots that cling to his ankles, giving him something else to deal with before he attempts to escape.

Taking advantage of her slight break, she looks around, unsurprised to find just how much chaos has ensued. On one end of the cave, Annabeth is locked in combat with Ethan Nakamura; the son of Nemesis proves to be a worthy opponent for Athena's daughter, causing her to stumble a few times, but she easily manages to wear him down before ducking low and dislocating his knee. Clarisse and Grover stand back to back as demigods charge from all sides, both campers engaged in an unfit amount of banter for such a dire situation, but (Y/N)'s eyebrows lift in surprise at their effective coordination.

Closer to the cave's center, Percy effortlessly battles his way through the few half-bloods that guard Kronos' sarcophagus, his eyes focused on the fleece that sits atop it. (Y/N) dares to hold her breath as he nears the altar, Riptide glinting with every movement while his hair becomes messier than normal, occasionally falling into his eyes. Nothing hinders Percy's efforts, and the moment he gets close enough, he begins to sprint, arm outstretched.

His fingers graze the Golden Fleece before a body slams into his from seemingly nowhere.

Percy grunts upon impact as he drops his sword, rolling briefly before righting himself to look up at Luke. The son of Hermes lacks his typical smug grin, his chiseled jaw clenched in fury while his eyes swim with poison.

"You just never know when to stop," Luke seethes.

Percy doesn't respond, lunging for Riptide, but Luke disappears from in front of him to reach the sword first. The son of Hermes kicks the sword farther away before turning to attack Percy, who dodges just in time.