A/N: So, I've been reading a lot of Percy Jackson fiction lately, and the pairing that seems to pop out to me the most is Percy/Artemis. The good news is that it's a really good pairing. The bad news is that most Pertemis fics are practically a carbon copy of one of three or four storylines, with the same clichéd stuff. So I decided that I'd make yet another one of these stories, with a bit of a twist to them. Percy's a pothead. Yeah. I just went there. And, like most of the other Pertemis fics I've read, Percy forms an all-male group of immortal dudes in direct opposition to the Hunters of Artemis, only they are true bachelors, without that lame forswearing of romantic involvement with the fairer sex, and Percy doesn't go for that riddiculous virgin god thing. Seriously? If I were made into a Greek god, my cabin at Camp Half-Blood would be full by the end of the day, and yes, I know that's chronologically impossible. But whatever, here's the first chapter, if you wanna read it.

Disclaimer: I don't own shit. That's the beginning and the end of it. The middle had me owning much more than simply shit, but that's a story for another day...

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Chapter 1: Don't You Know Who I Think I Am?

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Hey there. Nice to meet'cha. Who am I? Oh, I'm nobody. Just the dude who pretty much saved all of Western Civilization from crumbling down to the ground. I'm the guy who found the stolen sacred symbols of the Big Three. That kid that tricked the cyclops Polyphemus out of the Golden Fleece and brought Thalia Grace back from the dead, even though she still hasn't thanked me for it (rude). I prevented the return of the big bad buff titan Atlas, I was able to safely navigate the legendary Labyrinth, and I helped take down the Lord of Time himself, Kronos.

I'm getting ahead of myself, though. I'm Percy. Well...Perseus Jackson, but you can call me Percy. I've been able to do weird things, like make plants grow super-quickly, or get water to bend to my will.

When I was twelve, I was attacked by this crazy math teacher who turned out to be what amounts to a demon from hell. Yeah. Stuff like that happens to me a lot. Anyhow, a few days afterwards, I learned that my mom, Sally Jackson, had shacked up with a god, my best friend Grover was a half-goat, half-man creature, and there was a whole camp full of demigods on Long Island, where my former Latin teacher (who also happens to be the immortal centaur, Chiron), is the activities director and Dionysus, Greek god of wine, is the camp councelor. During the whole mad dash to Camp Half-Blood, Grover, my mom, and I got attacked by the Minotaur. I managed to defeat the sucker and break off one of his horns, which I promptly bugged Charles Beckendorff, son of Hephaestos, into turning into a bong. As it happens, my godly father turned out to be the sea god, Poseidon, which made me a candidate to be the 'child of prophecy' (cue dramatic music).

Anyway, the king god, Zeus, had apparently misplaced his big ol' thunderbolt thingy, my dad had lost his trident, and Hades' Helm of Darkness was nowhere to be found. So naturally, everyone blamed me.

So I went on this crazy quest across the United States to find it with Grover and a new friend of mine, Annabeth Chase, a daughter of Athena, with a few gifts from another new friend, Luke Castellan, a son of Hermes.

After all sorts of misadventures and shennanigans involving the mother of all monsters, a lady with snakes for hair, a god of war, and a rather unsettling boat ride, it turned out that Luke was a traitorous ass, Ares was in on it, and they set me up to take the blame for the thefts and to resurrect Kronos, king of the titans, from the depths of Tartarus. A short battle against Ares and a plane ride later, the three symbols of power were back in their owners hands, and I'm a hero.

Not a year after that, I discovered that Grover was missing, my half-brother is a baby cyclops named Tyson, somebody had poisoned the guardian pine tree that protects Camp Half-Blood's borders, and the only way to save the day is to retrieve the fabled Golden Fleece from the Sea of Monsters. Only problem with that was that Chiron got blamed for the sabotage, and I'd been forbidden from going on the quest by our new director, the biggest douchebag (with a capital 'D') in history, Tantalus.

But Grover, who was being forced to marry the one-eyed giant named Polyphemus (gross, I know, right?), who just so happened to be in posession of the Golden Fleece at the time. So me and Annabeth embarked on a quest of our own, getting into some trouble in the form of an angry daughter of Ares and her ironclad ship full of dead Confederate soldiers, a pair of monster sisters who suck and blow, respectively, the queen of mean herself, Circe, and the infamous Edward Teach, better known as the greatest pirate of them all, Blackbeard.

After stealing Blackbeard's ship, the Queen Anne's Revenge, and finding Polyphemus' island, Tyson, Annabeth, Clarisse (the angry daughter of Ares), and myself managed to subdue Polyphemus with the use of my awesome Minotaur bong and a whole helluva lot of weed. We returned to Camp heroes once more, with the Revenge. as my prize, which I promptly renamed La Suprema Marejada.

The Golden Fleece cleansed the pine tree of its poison and, miraculously, returned the girl that it was made from to life. Sounds strange, I know, but just go with it. So, the winter after Pinecone Face, better known as Thalia Grace, was restored, she, Annabeth, and me go to retrieve a pair of demigods, only to be ambushed by a manticore and way too many monsters for us to fight alone.

Luckily, the Hunters of Artemis, a group of immortal teenage girls led by Artemis the Hunter, came to our aid. Unluckily, the manticore made off with Annabeth before we could round up all the monsters, and escaped.

The two demigods, Bianca and Nico di Angelo, were pretty cool, and Bianca joined up with the Hunters almost immediately. Artemis slipped off to do whatever it was she did, and a few Hunters, Thalia, and another camper went on a quest to find her and Annabeth. Once again, I was expressly forbidden from accompanying them.

You know I went anyway, with the help of my trusty steed, Blackjack.

After a harrowing few days, during which we lost Bianca to one of Hephaestus' old creations, we managed to make it to Mount Othrys, the place where Atlas held up the sky. Only he wasn't holding it up: Artemis was, and Annabeth was being held by Luke. Luckily, I was able to trick Atlas into a who-can-hold-up-the-sky-longer contest after getting him high as a kite with my trusty Minotaur bong. It was apparent that Kronos was trying to return, and the titans were slowly coming out of the folds.

The year after that, Annabeth, Grover, Tyson, and I took a trip into the Labyrinth in order to stop Luke from using it to find a way into Camp Half-Blood and lead an army of monsters to destroy us. It took a lot of work, and I almost blew myself to Kingdom come, along with a good chunk of Mt. St. Helens, but we eventually managed to bring down the Labyrinth, with the help of its creator, Daedalus. The old inventor died, and I sort of inherited his hellhound, Mrs. O'Leary. The major downside to this adventure, though, was that Kronos had managed to return, posessing Luke's body until such time that he could regain his true form.

From then on, things looked pretty bleak, even for an eternal optimist such as my own sexy-fine self. The titans were making their move, and a lot of the minor deities and a fair few demigods sided with them. Worst of all, though, was the father of all monsters, the one, the only...Typhon...had escaped his prison under Mt. St. Helens (my bad), and was making his way towards Mount Olympus, which just so happens to be located on the six-hundedth floor of the Empire State Building, destroying everything in his path across America as he went.

With the gods fighting Typhon, the defense of Mount Olympus was up to the demigods remaining at Camp Half-Blood. Nico came up with the idea to dip myself in the River Styx to gain the Curse of Achilles, and in order to do so, I needed my mother's blessing.

When I went to go ask for it, my mom revealed something pretty out there to me: she was an immortal. And not just any immortal, no, my life is too bizarre for that. My mother was the youngest (as in the year nineteen-ten youngest) daughter of Gaea, the mother of the titans.

So after learning to control a bit of my earth-manipulating abilities, I took upon my shoulders the Curse of Achilles, rallied the demigods, and fought like all hell.

I won't go into specifics, but needless to say, we won, they lost, and Kronos' army was no more. Once again, I was the hero. The gods figured that I deserved a little something for saving their collective hide and gave me the chance to become a god.

It's a pretty cool offer, no doubt, but I felt as though I still had a bit of living to do, so I politely declined and got them to give me three no-strings-attached wishes. I used one wish then and there:

Give the lesser gods a bit more respect, give 'em their own cabins at Camp Half-Blood, I said. And claim all your kids. No more demigods who feel like their parents have abandoned them. That's what started this damn war in the first place.

They didn't like me telling them that, but I had three wishes and they had to grant it. I eventually went back to Camp Half-Blood and started a relationship with Annabeth, who I'd been crushing on for awhile.

Alas, it wasn't to be. She was just too...bookish, and I was just too...well, I was just too Percy for her to deal with and keep her sanity intact. So we sat down, had a chat, and decided that it would be for the best to break off anymore romantic stuff. We're still friends, so that's cool.

After awhile, I got bored, and started hanging out in my dad's underwater palace, where I learned how to really get the hang of my powers. It was really fun, to be honest, and I spent a lot of time with my mom, too, though Dad's wife and legitimate son, Amphirite and Triton, weren't too thrilled (too bad, so sad).

A couple weeks ago, Hermes dropped by with a summons to appear before the Council of Twelve, and so now, here I am, standing in the doorway to the throne room on Mount Olympus, with the Olympians in all their godly glory staring at me solemnly.

"Approach, Perseus Jackson," Zeus rumbles, and I stroll casually toward the U-shaped table, waving to the gods I liked and nodding politely to the ones I didn't.

"What's up, guys?" I ask, giving them my best Percy-smile.

"Son, it's been a couple of years now, since the end of the war," Poseidon began, "but do you remember the offer we gave you as a reward for helping us?"

I nod glibly. "Sure do, Pops. The one where you guys wanted me to become a god and stuff, right?"

He nods, and Apollo picks up where he left off. Apollo's cool. He and I get along like beer and barbecue (that means it's good, if there's a moderate portion of each. Too much beer and the barbecue might end up in flames, too much barbecue and there won't be enough beer). "Well, we still want you to become a god, and we're wondering if you'd like to reconsider."

I think about it. It has been getting a little boring lately; more and more, I find myself thinking, These mortals have no idea of what's out there, when I'm out walking the streets. Without any quests, camp's gotten a bit droll, and even hanging out underwater's kinda lost the 'wow' factor it had a few years ago.

I glance at the other gods to see how they feel about the subject. Ares looks like he's about to wet himself; it might have to do with the fact that I whooped his ass in a one-on-one swordfight when I was twelve and he wants revenge, but that's just speculation.

Hades, Athena, Zeus, and Hera all seem to be indifferent on the matter. Apollo, Hephaestos, Aphrodite, and Hermes, all of whom I'm on pretty good terms with, seem a bit excited about the prospect. Dionysus simply looks bored, casting longing glances at the bottle of vintage Italian wine sitting tantalizingly in front of him. Even Demeter looks rather pleased for some reason.

The only Olympian who seems to be against my becoming a god is Artemis, who's fuming silently in her silvery throne. See, a couple years ago, when I fought the titan Atlas, Artemis had been forced to hold up the sky so Atlas could be freed. After my incredibly cunning plan to get the buff titan back under his burden worked, I may or may not have gloated a bit about saving a goddess and asked for a reward. Honestly, I just wanted one of her cool timberwolves, but she must have misinterpreted my simple request as something dirty in her mind and broke my leg. Good times.

But back to my dilemma. Most of the gods seem to be partial to the thought of me becoming one of them, and I am getting tired of a mortal life...

"Now that you mention it," I say, "I think that's not too bad of an idea. Yeah," I nod, talking more to myself than anything, "not too bad of an idea." I stand up straight, nod in what I hope is a dignified manner, and state in a clear voice, "Make me a god."

"Only problem is," Apollo adds while Zeus begins to chant in Greek much faster than my ADHD brain can comprehend, "you just used your second wish."

Damn. I knew there would be some sort of catch. Damn gods.

While I curse the deities for their sneakiness, I fail to notice as Zeus stands from his throne, transports himself directly in front of me, and offers his hand, which is holding a mostly full chalice of bronze.

"Drink this, Perseus Jackson," Zeus says. I look down into the goblet, watching as the viscuous, golden liquid within and have a sneaking suspicion that this might just be the ichor of the gods.

"There's not another way to do this, is there?" I ask, glaring dubiously at the liquid. Zeus actually smiles.

"Not unless you want to join the Hunters of Artemis," he chuckles, causing Artemis' expression to sour further.

Sighing, I plug my nose and down the stuff as quickly as possible. There's an incredible half-second where it seems as though nothing happened, and I reflect on the iron tang lingering on my tongue.

"I don't feel any-" I start, but then a blast of pure, unadulterated power explodes from somewhere in the region of my stomach. I try to cry out, but I'm unable to do anything but feel the exhilerating, wild energy singing through my veins.

In a detatched sort of way, I feel my feet leave solid ground as the godly aura lifts me into the air, and a screeching wail that I belatedly, and embarrassedly, realize that it's coming from my mouth. Using all the willpower I can muster while under such an intense metamorphosis, I manage to cut off the noise and grit my teeth for the rest of what seems like an eternity.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the energy seems to just seep out of my body, and my feet touch down on the throne-room floor. I open my eyes hesitantly, and the first thing that I notice is that the room, and it's occupants seem to have shrunk.

"Did-" I start uncertainly, "did you guys get smaller?" Many of the gods crack smiles, Dad and Apollo burst into laughter, and Artemis face-palms with an accompanying sigh of exasperation.

Poseidon stands to move beside his younger brother, putting a hand on my shoulder. "No, son. You just had a growth spurt."

I'm ashamed to admit that it takes me a few moments to understand. "So...the whole make-me-a-god thing worked?"

Dionysus scoffs. "Dear me, we may have made a mistake in allowing someone as dim as Parnasus to become a god."

"Oh, and one other thing..." Apollo says, wearing a mischievous grin that I can't say gives me a good feeling.

"And what is that?" I ask, steeling myself for the worst. I'm surprised when Demeter stands up, causing Hades to grimace.

"Young Perseus, I want you to take my throne on the Olympian Council," she says, much to my astonishment. "See, I do believe my time on the council has run its course, and since my daughter has refused to succeed me, I want you to become the god of the earth."

I wait for three 'River-Styx' before saying the only thing on my mind at the moment. "Huh?"

Apollo's suddenly at my side, an arm around my shoulder as he leads me to the side. "You see, Percy, when we won the first Titan War, Dad, my two uncles, and my aunt split the world up. Zeus got the skies, Poseidon got the seas, and Hades got the Underworld. Demeter took the responsibility of the dry places, but now that she's retiring, and since you're the only grandson of Gaea that actually has power over the earth, the Olympians have decided to give you the land as your domain."

"So what'll happen to you, Demeter?" I ask, confused as to how this would work.

"You won't have to worry about changing the seasons and whatnot," she assures me. "But you will need to deal with Council business. I'll just live with my dear daughter and her husband." At this, Hades groans and mutters something about oatmeal for the rest of eternity.

"Well, I suppose that's that, huh?" I say. "Um, so how do we do this?"

"All you need to do is formally accept my throne, there'll probably be a big flash of light, and then the Fates will whisper to you your godly attributes," Demeter explains.

"'Kay then," I nod. "I, Perseus Jackson, hereby accept the title 'God of the Earth,' and claim Demeter's throne on the Council of Twelve." As expected, there's a brief blast of blinding light, and then suddenly I'm sitting in an enormous green beanbag chair where Demeter's topiary rosebush throne used to be, right between Poseidon's and Artemis' throne.

Dad nods approvingly from his deep-sea fishing chair. "Nice choice of throne, boy," he says. "I should've thought of that..."

But I'm not listening. I feel a chill creep up my spine, and a voice whispers into my ear. And judging by the other gods' sudden stiffening in their thrones, I'm guessing they can hear it, too.

"All hail Perseus Jackson," it said in an ancient, feminine voice not dissimilar to the Oracle of Delphi's, "Lord of the Earth and Beasts, Bringer of the Tides and Harvest, Patron of Heroes and Bachelors, and Purveyor of Loyalty and Peace."

"Don't forget being awesome," I can't help but blurt out, and I catch a sense of amusement from the presence of the Fates.

"...and God of Being Awesome," the voice whispers. The tingly shiver vanishes, and everyone relaxes visibly.

"Well," I say into the silence that follows. "I think that I just might be pretty damn cool."

Most of the gods laugh outright, Hephaestos is nodding in a sort of agreeing manner, and Artemis starts banging her forehead on the marble table before her.

"I think we're just about done here," Zeus says, to which the others agree, for the most part.

"Don't I need to pick my sacred symbols or whatever?" I inquire politely, and the other gods realize that this is true.

"Very well, you shall choose a sacred animal, a sacred plant, a sacred place, and your symbol of power," Zeus says, listing off the various things.

"Well the sacred plant's a no-brainer," I state, concentrating on a mental image of my favorite plant in the world. I force a bit of power into the thought, and suddenly, a marijuana plant appears in front of me. "Cannabis sativa indica," I explain, smug that I was actually able to pull that off. "The marijuana plant be the plant sacred fer me, I tell you what."

"So it shall be," Zeus intoned with a nod.

"Next, since I'm apparently god of loyalty, my sacred animal should have a strong sense of it." This time, I let loose a high-pitched whistle, and in no time at all, Mrs. O' Leary emerges from the shadowy void, and drops me out of my beanbag.

"That is a hellhound," Athena points out. Good detective skills, goddess of wisdom; way to point out the obvious.

"It most certainly is," I say, almost tempted to say, 'no shit, Sherlock.' I manage to get to my knees and start rubbing Mrs. O' Leary's belly. "Who's a good hellhound? You're a good hellhound, Mrs. O'Leary, yes you are!" I coo to the hellhound, who's about the size of a Labrador compared to my new height.

"Hellhounds are monsters, and as such, cannot be a sacred animal to a god," Zeus says, and Mrs. O'Leary whimpers sadly. "Not that you're a monster, just most of them," he assures the hellhound, who seems marginally mollified.

"So how about just a domestic doggie?" I ask, willing a fair-sized mixed-breed into existence, looking like a chihuahua next to Mrs. O'Leary.

"Very well," Zeus says. "That is an acceptable choice."

Next up is sacred places. I could go with Manhattan, but I don't think that would reflect well on me, since I'm the god of peace, not the god of insanity. That's Dionysus. So instead, I say, "I want Camp Half-Blood to be my sacred place. It's my home away from home, and since I'm god of heroes, it kinda makes sense, right?"

"So it shall be," Zeus says. "That only leaves your symbol of power. Choose the icon of your being wisely, Perseus."

I start to go with Anaklusmos, but it wouldn't be fitting; god of peace and all that. Then I get hit by an idea and pull my Minotaur horn bong out of the ether and hold it up to the light dramatically. "This shall be my symbol of power," I announce, donning my movie trailer announcer voice. "The Bong...of...DESTINY!"

There's a moment of awkward silence before I hear a strange snorting sound to my immediate left. Everyone turns to Artemis, who's trying desperately to hold in laughter, which is trying desperately to escape. Unfortunately for her, she glances my way for the briefest of moments, and whatever expression is on my face (probably baffled bewilderment) breaks whatever control she has on her giggles, and she explodes into a fit of hysterics.

"You're...such...a...failure," she gasps at me between bouts of chuckles as she holds her belly.

I turn back to the rest of the gods and inquire, "Is that...uh, normal?" Their expressions tell me that it is not, in fact, normal for the normally stoic goddess of the moon to descend into uncontrollable laughter.

"...on that note," Zeus eventually says, "I believe that this session of the Council of Twelve is over. Meeting adjourned."

In seconds, all the Olympians had vanished, except for myself and Poseidon, who grins at me. "Welcome to the wonderful world of immortality, son," he spouts proudly, rising from his throne. I follow suit, and he gestures toward the door. "You've got a lot to learn about being a god. Luckily for us, gods live almost indefinitely."

Smiling glibly, I nod. "So what's first on the agenda?"

"Well, since you've already mastered the water and earth manipulation powers granted to you by your godly parents," Poseidon starts, "I figure we can work on the general godly abilities, like generating things from nowhere, transporting yourself across the planet, enchanting objects with various magical powers, things like that. We also need to figure out a way for you to reign in that aura of yours."

"Huh?"

"You're releasing a relaxing aura of some sort," he explains, gesturing vaguely to the air around us. "It's like the aura that Ares has, except it seems to be the exact opposite of his anger-inducing one."

I hadn't noticed, but now that I think about it, I doubt Artemis would've burst into laughter without some sort of super-godly power. Nice.

"Well, we should probably start pretty soon, eh?" I say, nudging my dad with an elbow and grinning. "I've got an whole eternity to live, and I wanna start as soon as I can."

"That's the spirit!" Poseidon rumbles with a hearty chuckle. "Now, let's get going to Atlantica. You've got a ways to go before you can take over for Dionysus at Camp Half-Blood."

And with that, he grasps my shoulder and teleports us both to his underwater city.

A/N: So there's the first chapter of my PJ and the Os fanfiction. If you have any questions, comments, or if you just wanna talk shit about my crappy writing, feel free to drop a review. Flames will be laughed at and then used to spark my weed, while well-thought out comments will be answered promptly and politely. Thanks for taking the time to read my thoughts, and I hope to see you soon.