Alright, so. Reviews—thanks so much for them! They mean a lot.

Next order of business. I'm going to buckle down, go back, and rewrite all of (or a large majority of) these chapters. I'm going to leave this posted, but eventually there will be a remake—something completely original with this whole 'godly' business. Main character will be traded out since people don't quite like the AU version with Percy playing this role… maybe. Unless I decide otherwise.

I give you my pacifier chapter! (Meaning, just to feed you until the real thing is produced.)

Enjoyable, I guess.

No internal, deep emotional stirring of any sort. No sudden bright light flashing around her that screamed 'soul mate' or anything that let on I even had an inkling of attraction to her, for her, whatever. There was no awakening in the pit of my soul, no great desire, just enjoyment.

Which meant all but one thing: she was inexperienced.

In fact, I was willing to bet that Ania had more experience in this subject than Aphrodite herself, that she-devil that toyed with my love life on a daily basis.

I'm a guy and couldn't help but find a serious pleasure in her lips pressed firmly to mine, and so naturally I didn't push her away. In fact, with all the shame I could muster, I'll admit to pulling her back to me when she did make an attempt at walking away. She was probably going for a dramatic exit, something that would have left me dumbfounded, confused, and ultimately cranky as Hades after sitting in the Underworld for three thousand years. I was just so amazing at crushing people's plans and bending their will to fight my more impulsive one.

Yeah, and Lupè making her sudden reappearance, one hand raised and her mouth wide open to let words fly towards me, didn't necessarily help my mood. She was the only reason I realized what actually had been going on and why I currently hated myself utterly.

Was it possible for gods to kill themselves?

I didn't think so.

While I was mid-rant filled with self-loathing and the putrid smell of guilt I let two of the three girls talk at me. I was beyond pissed with myself, to the point of every little thing someone did irking me beyond the natural boundaries. Lupè must have sensed it, while Achos' radar was slightly off mark. She was sitting on the arm of my chair, twisting one strand of hair around her finger, blabbing on and on. Lupè on the other hand had a constantly faltering smile on her fragile face, like she was deeply afraid that I would find some sudden burst of energy and smite her so that she could keep coming back and we'd repeat the process. I felt bad that somehow I had managed to induce the feeling of apprehension but too many things were clouding my better judgment.

Return to camp; remind my immortal soul of Annabeth.

Stop the feeling of Ania's lips on mine.

Hire a psychiatrist (I wondered if Hades knew anyone worth suggesting).

The death toll.

Souls piling up on my doorstep, awaiting their ascent to the afterlife.

And of course, the crappy quest that an Aphrodite brat was sending my girlfriend on.

I couldn't—wouldn't deal with this life anymore. What could Zeus really do if I broke the Ancient Laws that shouldn't have even applied to me, considering 'ancient' wasn't exactly a word to describe me? Would he strike me a couple hundred times with a lightning bolt? Ooh, terrifying.

Maybe he would curse my children. Wow, wouldn't that suck? Cursed kids when I'm still as innocent as any young child? I'd never… made love to anyone before, therefore that option seemed pretty easy to deal with.

Or even better, he would renounce my curse of Achilles—could he even do that? I seriously doubted it.

Nothing seemed heavy enough to hold me back.

So with Lupè's jaw still rotating with every word she said, and Achos still purring seductively in my ear like maybe she could get a chance at a kiss just as her sister had, I excused myself with a cloud of wispy ashes fluttering where I had been.

And with no time wasted on trivial matters such as further thinking through my priorities, I was bounding down Half-Blood Hill, passed Thalia's pine, and down towards the campers still milling around, heading to different training sites and such. I reached to grab a free arm and stopped myself, reminding myself that sometimes my excitement pulled matters from my grasp and powers worked willy-nilly. A camper lying on the grass, eyes rolled back in their heads, probably wouldn't be the greatest way to start my trip to camp.

"Hey," I tried. Rather than physical contact, I managed to entice attention with mere words.

I had to remember to pat myself on the back for not making a bonehead move and killing off a demigod.

"Yeah?" He turned, tumbling red curls brushing the tips of his ears. I knew I had seen his face before but I was drawing a blank on the name, which made me feel like I had just lowered myself to the level of Mr. D, not bothering to remember mortal names. Six months and I had managed to turn into the stereotypical god.


"Where's—" without hesitation, I was being side tackled and me and Mystery Man went tumbling a little ways down the grass. I had a minimum of five seconds to pump air into my lungs when a similar looking boy was dog-piling on top of us, laughing like nobody's business.

"Percy, man," Travis—maybe Connor—grinned down at me. "It's been a while!"

"Yeah, six months," the other grumbled in agreement, both arms wrapped around us with a smirk to match. "What makes a god's life so interesting? You been seeing some lady friends?" He waggled his eyebrows and Travis responded with obnoxious laughter.

"Dude, it could happen," which may have been in response to the look on my face. "Annabeth's got a cabin for you going underway and everything."

I tried to keep a steely tone from underlining my words as I shoved them off, pleasantly surprised that they actually weren't contorted with any form of discomfort or pain. "Speaking of Annabeth…"

"Oh," I wasn't sure why but Travis sounded incredibly disappointed that I brought up my girlfriend—at least, she would be my girlfriend until she found out about what went down between me and Ania.

"Figures," Connor huffed. "We were kinda hoping you're godly abilities could come in handy with a prank we were working on."

"But, first things first. She's overseeing construction."

I'd like to say we hit it off as soon as we saw each other—I pulled her into a hug, she told me all the things that I'd missed, and then we ended up relaxing under the pine or lounging on the sandy shoreline.

Honestly, I walked up beside her as she stared at a blue fold of paper in her hand then compared the actual thing with the model, silent and admiring. Gold curls were pulled back into a lazy ponytail and she was constantly pushing back loose strands, yelling something at a demigod with a hard hat smacked on his head. He grinned when he saw me and turned back to the crew of builders, going over to someone who was apparently messing up. She glanced over her shoulder at me, stared for a max of five seconds and began rolling her scroll up—almost as tight as when we had an argument and she'd called me a coward right before I bathed in the Styx. This time she spared the paper and didn't rip it.

I followed as she walked further into the construction site that was supposedly going to become my cabin—it resembled fresh ruins, wooden supports standing bare, glaring at me like I had done something wrong. Cement had been laid only so marvelously on the floor in gritty slabs.

"How do you like it?" I couldn't help but note that she was sneering at me.


"Though so," and then she growled. Nothing noticeable if I hadn't been focusing on every freaking move she made. She didn't appear the least bit concerned with putting on a hard hat, and I hoped that was because she trusted me to protect her from any misadventure that went down. Something nagged, whispering that the reasoning was slightly different.

"Well, I came by—"

"I think we should break up."

So, yeah. That's kind of how things went down.

Annabeth, with six months to think, had come to the realization that my being a god would entitle me to finding some way of having my way with her—which had me blushing to the roots of my hair because it was near impossible to be comfortable talking about this—and then leaving. That I would move on the very moment she breathed her last—which I swore could never happen—and that I would prove myself to be the same as every other god.

And when I tried to point out that my dad had managed to fall in love, she gave me a look like she wasn't buying it. She was the fling, not the girl that would get me to change my six months of being influenced by pigs like Hades and Apollo.

She was scared.

That I would leave her, that I wouldn't be the exception, that I wouldn't be there for her if anything were to ever happen between us. She never said it, but I didn't doubt for a second.

Doesn't mean I ever left. You could say I stalked her, half of my consciousness hovering in the shadows, checking in on her with a careful gaze.

(I'll have you know that she never really did just move on—guys did come, but she never let them have a shot with her and that swelled my head to enormous amounts; that meant I was special to her, even still.)

I wasn't sure she noticed me, but there were days when she'd stare up at the sky like maybe she could hold back tears—not ones always meant for me—and then grin and whisper my name, like the taste could bring me back.

But I stood in the background; I watched and waited for my chance.

I'm still waiting.

Incredibly crappy and rushed, but this isn't the final product. I wasn't willing to give this my all since I'm just going to rewrite it and take this down. Uh… Review, I guess.