Pjo Fic - Blog Posts

THE HOLLOW MAN

It started with a whisper.

"Come closer."

Mia bolted upright in bed, her breath caught in her throat. The room was dark except for the dim glow of the streetlights outside. Beside her, Jake was fast asleep, his chest rising and falling in steady rhythm.

Had she imagined it?

She held her breath, listening.

Silence.

Mia let out a shaky exhale and laid back down, pulling the covers up to her chin. She was probably just tired. But just as sleep began to take her—

"I’m waiting."

The voice was right beside her ear.

She jerked up so fast her head spun. Her hands trembled as she reached for the bedside lamp, flicking it on. The room was empty.

Jake groaned and turned over. “Babe, what the hell?”

“There’s—” She hesitated. She couldn’t explain it. Couldn’t make him believe.

Nothing,” she muttered, turning off the light.

But it wasn’t nothing.

The whispers continued each night, growing bolder. The air felt heavy, suffocating. Shadows shifted in the corners of the room. And then—she saw him.

A shape.

Tall. Wrong.

It stood in the corner, limbs too long, torso stretched unnaturally thin. Its face was a smudge of darkness, an absence where features should be. It did not move. It did not breathe. It only watched.

Mia shut her eyes, whispering, “Not real, not real, not real.”

When she opened them again—he was closer.

She screamed.

Jake jolted awake, cursing. “Mia, what the hell is wrong with you?”

“There’s someone—” She pointed.

But the corner was empty.

“Mia, you need to sleep,” he sighed, pulling her into his arms. “You’re just freaking yourself out.”

But she wasn’t.

Because each night, the Hollow Man crept closer.

She refused to sleep. The lights stayed on. But the whispers only grew louder.

"Let me in."

Then, Mia made a mistake.

She whispered back.

"Who are you?"

The room collapsed into silence. The air turned rancid, thick with the smell of rot.

Then, slowly—it grinned.

The lights flickered.

Mia choked on a scream as her body seized, her back arching violently. Her skin rippled and split, as if something inside her was crawling its way out.

Jake watched in horror as deep, jagged cuts tore open across her stomach, something moving beneath the flesh. Her veins bulged, black and swollen, spreading like a spiderweb under her skin.

“MIA!” He lunged for her—

Her jaw snapped open.

Too wide.

Unnatural.

Her tongue split down the middle, peeling apart like rotting fruit. Her teeth sharpened before his eyes, jagged like broken glass.

Her fingers clawed at her own face, peeling away strips of skin. The flesh sloughed off in wet chunks, exposing muscle and bone.

Jake gagged. Something was pushing out from inside her.

He grabbed her wrists, trying to hold her together, but her body buckled and ripped apart, spilling blood, viscera, and something else—something dark, shifting, wrong.

The Hollow Man stepped out of her, shedding her body like a useless husk. Jake’s mouth opened in a silent scream as the creature turned toward him—

And Mia’s skinless face grinned back.

Then, the lights went out.

(Sorry this took so long, my lovelys. I hope this lives up to expectations and let me know what you want to write! Love you xx(

My AO3 MasterList

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Illegal Elemental Masters au: Ninjago - Status: Incomplete (On Haitus!) -Short summary: Elemental powers are considered illegal so every elemental master is locked up. Yet a new evil is brewing on the horizon, and Jay needs all the help he can get. -WARNINGS: None

Merged Masters: Ninjago - Status: Incomplete (On Haitus!) -Short summary: Takes place in the future, the ninja have merged with their elements. Yet they are missing one of the ninja and after (accidently) adopting some children, they set out to find their missing member. Oh, and also there is another great evil. (Surprise Suprise!) -WARNINGS: None (so far)

Over and Over again: Linked Universe - Status: Incomplete (Currently in progress!) -Short summary: Dark Link got his hands on a powerful artifact and now its up to Four to try and stop Dink and get out of the loop. -WARNINGS: Death, Gore, Major Characters Death, EXTREMLY whumpt/angsty.

Universe's Great book of LU fics: Linked Universe - Status: Always updating. (No ending) -Short summary: Just a bunch of short, mini fics around the LU links. -WARNINGS: Extreme crack, some may be dark/angsty tho!

Might I offer you some Colorful fics in these trying times?: Linked Universe & Four Swords/Four Swords Adventures - Status: Always updating. (No ending) -Short summary: Just a bunch of short, mini fics around Four (LU) or the Colors (links). Most of the fics are Red-centered -WARNINGS: Some are pretty angsty!

Flipping through the different perspectives: Linked Universe - Status: Coming soon!! -Short summary: Each chapter is centered around a different Link and each take place within different AUs. -WARNINGS: Unsure quite yet.

Bonked Universe: Linked Universe - Status: Complete! -Short summary: Four and Sky are hit with a brick and I take a crack-y approach to it. -WARNINGS: None!

There is No Story: There is no Game - Status: Complete! -Short summary: You, the reader, has stumbled upon a mysterious book within the AO3 archives... -WARNINGS: None!

PJO in Amphibia: Percy Jackson & Amphibia - Status: Incomplete (On haitus) -Short summary: Percy, Annabeth and Grover are all strange in a new, strange world full of talking anphibians! -WARNINGS: Spoilers for Amphibia!, Death (spoilers), some gore and unnatural creatures/descriptions

This is too good to not comment on.

So, I wanted to talk about how well this was played out. (I know, I’m not supposed to be posting often, but this is just to good to not talk about.

So first off, I love the style of the writing. The description really help you see it clearly in your mind. The charcters are also really well played out and the interactions between all of them are very nice. I also liked the interview part, where Annabeth and Percy truly show both their cleverness and confidence (well, more in Annabeths case. But that writing is really BOLD!)

And yes, I could go on and on. But its late and I need to turn in. Yes I may keep talking about this, but the style and just how its portrayed… This is probably one of the best fics I’ve read before.

Oh and I can’t forget about the embarrassment scenes and how the author had action and with these small scenes to make you relate to the character more than if they were just blandish.

Okay, thats enough, but fellow Percabeth enjoyers, Read this. Its good.

Unfavored Odds - Chapter One

this is a hunger games au that has languished in my google docs for like six years. fear not, the fic is already done so i will update once a week! if you enjoyed, please reblog because this took a lot of work!

ao3 link

She volunteered, of course. The floorboards of the wooden scaffolding creaked beneath her feet, and the autumn sun cast a harsh glare through the square and offered little warmth. Standing in front of the crowd, the look on her father’s face, helpless and accusatory, stuck out even among the sea of faces. Annabeth clenched her hands at her sides and tried to quell the guilt and disgust churning in the pit of her stomach.

None of the boys volunteered, but Annabeth recognized the name that was drawn: Luke. He walked up to the scaffolding stiffly, his pale eyes colder than normal, without acknowledging her even though they’d known each other since they were children at the Academy. Not that she cared. After all, no one was really friends with anyone else in District 2. In all likelihood, Annabeth would be the one stepping over his corpse if he somehow managed to last that long. She was here to win.

Keep reading

I wanna make a pjo story (when I have the time) but I don’t know what plot to do. But this is my reader and I want to know your ideas, any idea is welcomed

I wanna know what kind of ideas come in your minds when you see this, any idea and the one that will inspire me the most I will do it (when I have the time)

Please comment your ideas

sure thing.

“Hey, firecracker,” a voice—unmistakable, to you, at least —calls from behind, and you instantly knew who it was. “Need to talk to you.”

There was only one person that would call you that nickname. Luke Castellan, the bane of your existence, thought it was extremely funny to remind you of that one time you almost burnt down the pavilion. The moment they figured out it was you; you had earned the nickname you dreaded so much. He loved reminding you of embarrassing stuff you did. You desperately wanted to wipe that self-satisfied smirk off his face. What did he even want? Didn’t he have something better to do than to bother you?

He leaned against one of the posts in the arena, eyebrows raised expectantly. He just needed a change from training the newbies. He wanted to go all out, and the best person to do that with was sadly you. Well, at least the satisfaction he’d get from beating you—because he would beat you, obviously, was totally worth it.

You sighed, “What?”

“Need a sparring partner, that's all,” he said, a smirk still tugging at the corner of his lips, now accompanied by a raised eyebrow. “And I'd rather have you than anyone in this camp.”

“That sounded too nice for your standards... Are you that desperate?” Your eyes narrowed; you were skeptical.

“Desperate to beat your ass, yes," he said, an easy laugh breaking past the steely look on his face. Luke was aware of the fact that he often annoyed you, and maybe he liked it just a little. "Besides, I wanna try some new sword techniques I came up with. So, whaddya say? Pretty please?" His head tilted a little when he said that, he was giving you that look.

You were silent, biting your lips just like you always did when you were focused. After a moment, you gave in. “Fine,” you said. Maybe you’d benefit from this, too.

"That’s my girl," he said as he casually walked toward you. "I promise not to go easy on you. If you feel like you're gonna trip and impale yourself with my sword, just say the word, alright?" A smirk flitted past his lips, though his words seemed genuine enough. Luke knew you would never stop being rivals. But the feeling of respect he had for you was real. He trusted you and even cared for you, but he’d rather commit war crimes than admit that.

“Fuck you,” you spat as you got into your signature fighting stance. Maybe this was a mistake, but if you gave up already, he’d think you’d gotten cold feet.

“If you ask nicely.”

That smug bastard. You hated him with all your heart. You hated his stupid smile and the way he made everyone around him feel comfortable, even you. You hated the butterflies he gave you. You hated his guts.

With a smooth slashing motion towards his torso, you started the fight. He blocked it with ease. Without a further word, Luke went in towards you with a quick and precise strike, sword arm extended forward in a tight grip with the tip aimed towards your sternum. He wanted to overwhelm you, thinking you hadn’t improved since the last time you sparred. But oh, was he wrong.

You’ve been watching him, his rather aggressive style of fighting, and the look in his eyes when he tried a certain move for a long time now. You’ve fought him many times before, and you were getting the hang of it. You’ve been training a lot, and while he was busy with the new campers, you had developed your own, unique fighting style. He knew you as a pretty good fighter, who could almost keep up with him on a good day. Almost. But now, you’d surpass his expectations. You blocked his hit, your body moving smoothly like liquid. Instead of using all your strength to try and withstand his attacks, you just gave in. Let loose. You used the force of his hit and channeled it, transferring it into your own with ease. He did not see that coming.

You'd always had a strong sense of intuition and your body would respond accordingly, as if it had a mind of its own. Luke was quick to counter, his body leaning back with a fluid motion to avoid any of your quick strikes, all the while trying to find an opening. The back-and-forth movement that was once just a spar has now become a deadly dance of swords, the two of you constantly in motion, no pause in sight. There is a certain excitement in the air, almost a spark that has ignited your mutual hostility and aggression.

Your movements were fluid as if you could predict all of Luke's moves in advance. You were a master of timing, of anticipating all of the demigod's strikes. Not once could he match your fluidity, his movements jerky compared to your graceful flow. There was something about the way you both fought so elegantly that made you feel like you were part of an agile performance, each of you matching the other's movements perfectly. It felt less like a fight and more like an art.

Yet even as you moved with effortless ease, the clash of swords kept you both on your toes, your bodies moving in such perfect sync that neither could find a flaw in the other's defense. Your movements almost appeared as if you were both working together, but this was not the case—in fact, Luke was becoming more frustrated by the second as he strained to find a way to slip past your guard.

“You’ve improved,” he breathed out while you fought. “I like it.” The way he said that sent shivers up your spine. It was embarrassing how these words affected you so hard that you made a small mistake. It was a mistake that could happen to even the best swordsmen in history, but a mistake nonetheless. And it led to his sword held at your throat. You fucked up. And he made you feel it, the cold tip of his sword gently tapping your chin, forcing you to look up at him. You prayed that he didn’t notice the color on your cheeks.

“You're distracted too easily.” He looked serious for once, that glint of smugness had left his eyes for just a moment. “I win again.” And there it was again, that stupid smile of his. He dropped his sword and held out a hand to help you up. You let him pull you up, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. “Did you get what you wanted out of this fight?” You asked, and he nodded. “Much better than trying to teach the newbies not to drop their swords while fighting.”

“Good,” you turned to walk away, but he grabbed your wrist. “Same time tomorrow?”

You could’ve said no, could’ve walked away, could’ve done ANYTHING, but instead, you looked at him and said, “Sure thing.”