Percy Jackson x Male Reader The Sea of Monsters

Happy Campers

Percy's POV

Ever come home and found your room messed up? Like some helpful person (hi, Mom) has tried to "clean" it and suddenly you can't find anything? And even if nothing is missing, you get that creepy feeling like somebody's been looking through your private stuff and dusting everything with lemon furniture polish?

That's kind of the way I felt seeing Camp Half-Blood. again.

On the surface things didn't look all that different. The Big House was still there with its blue gabled roof and its wraparound porch. The strawberry fields still baked in the sun. The same white-columned Greek buildings were scattered around the valley-the amphitheater, the combat arena, the dining pavilion overlooking Long Island Sound. And nestled between the woods and the creek were the same cabins-a crazy assortment of twelve buildings, each representing a different Olympian god.

But there was an air of danger now. You could tell something was wrong. Instead of playing volleyball in the sandpit, counselors and satyrs were stockpiling weapons in the tool shed. Dryads armed with bows and arrows talked nervously at the edge of the woods. The forest looked sickly, the grass in the meadow was pale yellow, and the fire marks on Half-Blood Hill stood out like ugly scars.

Somebody had messed with my favorite place in the world and I was not . . . well a happy camper.

As we made our way to the Big House, I recognized a lot of kids from last summer. Nobody stopped to talk. Nobody said, "Welcome back." Some did double takes when they saw Tyson, but most just walked grimly past and carried on with their duties-running messages, toting swords to sharpen on the grinding wheels. The camp felt like a military school. And believe me, I know. I've been kicked out of a couple.

None of that mattered to Tyson. He was absolutely fascinated by everything he saw. "Whasthat!" he gasped.

"The stable for Pegasi." I said. "The winged horses."

"Whats that!"

"Those would be the bathrooms." Y/n answered for me.

"Whats that!"

"The cabins for the campers. if they don't know who your Olympian parent is, they put you in the Hermes cabin-that brown one over there-until you're determined. Then, once they know, they put you in your dad or mom's group."

He looked at me in awe. "You . . . have a cabin?"

"Number three." I pointed to a low gray building made of sea stone.

"You live with friends in the cabin?"

"No. No, just me." I paused for a moment, glancing over at my friend beside my. Walking forward still fatigued from the earth travel, as he used his spear to prop himself up. "But I do share with Y/n sometimes." I finished.

Tyson's eye seemed to widen slightly as he looked between the two of us. Until he settled his gaze on Y/n. "You're Percy's brother?" he asked in confusion.

Y/n shook his head. "Not exactly." he began to explain. "My moms Gaia. But she doesn't have a cabin here so I don't really have anywhere to go, I just roam around camp, sleeping where ever is available. So instead I suppose you could say the whole camp is my cabin."

Tyson nodded, though the confused look on his face didn't seem to alleviate all that much. But regardless we continued on.

When we got to the Big House we found Chiron in his apartment, listening to his favorite 1960s lounge music while he packed his saddlebags. I guess I should mention-Chiron is a centaur. From the waist up he looks like a regular middle-aged guy with curly brown hair and a scraggily beard. From the waist down, he's a white stallion. He can pass for a human by compacting his lower half into a magic wheelchair. In fact, he'd passed himself off as a Latin teacher during my sixth-grade year. But most of the time, if the ceilings are high enough, he prefers hanging out in full centaur forms.