#percabeth fic

[lex-feldz]

New York

Annabeth picked at the flowers on the table, waiting for someone who probably won’t show. She was at a coffee shop, waiting for her date she met online. It’s not even worth remembering which app it was from, whoever was going to show, would show. (Or not)

Eventually a ruggedly handsome man ushered in, going up to every woman in the place and talking to them. 

“Are you Anna Elizabeth?” He asked, hopelessly. 

“Yes, but I prefer to go by Annabeth.” She said. 

“Awesome. I’m Percy.” He smiled wide. 

“Oh.” Was all she managed, trying not to judge him. 

“I’m sorry I was late. I’m from New York originally and San Francisco has a very different layout than the city.” He chuckled, sitting down across from her. 

“I lived in New York for some time, it’s not too different.” She held her head high, maybe a little peeved at him for blaming his own incompetence on something that has no real ability to change. 

“Oh, cool, where did you live? I grew up in Brooklyn but bounced around Manhattan and the Bronx for the past couple of years. My Ma lives on the upper east side now.” He smiled genuinely, which might have warmed her insides a bit more than she’d like to admit. 

“I grew up in a town just out of the city, Scarsdale? Maybe you’ve heard of it?” 

“Oh damn, that’s, like, close to Yonkers and Mamo? Right?” He smiled.

“Yeah.” 

“That’s awesome, when did you leave?” 

“Before I moved out here for school. I went to Berkeley for architecture.” She gripped her cup. 

“Nice, I never went to college, too expensive.” He flushed. 

“It’s never too late, you know.” 

“Yeah, which is why I’m not worried. Like, my buddy, Jason, he’s been a Yale man since he was born. Guess where he ended up?” 

“Yale?” 

“SUNY Oneonta.” 

“Oh, that’s—” 

“Nothing like Yale, yeah, that’s what I said when he told me.” Percy’s eyes crinkled endearingly as he spoke about his friend, and joked with her. 

“So, what brought you to San Fran, then, Percy?” Annabeth asked, genuine curiosity flooding her. He seemed like such a New Yorker, born and raised, that it didn’t make sense as to why he would leave. 

“I still think of it as where I live, but for now, I’m out here to help my buddy Grover move into his internship. I don’t know, really.” 

“You just go on random dates?” 

“For fun, yeah.” 

“That’s….” She wasn’t really sure. 

“Weird?” 

“Yeah.” She giggled, relieved he said it. 

“What can I say? Some might say I’m a masochist.” 

“Some.” She took a sip of her drink. 

“Some might say that the ones that don’t immediately get up, are as well.” He whispered.

“Oh, well, I— I just like coffee.” 

“If you ever find yourself in New York you should give me a call.” “I will.” 

#percy jackson #annabeth chase #pjo #percabeth #annabeth is my baby #percabeth fic #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #please #drabble #unfinished one shot with relatively nice stopping point

[demigods-posts]

i would pay so much money to see the last chapter of moa in percy's perspective. i need to see him anxiously awaiting annabeth's return. i need to see him silently cry into her hair when she falls apart in his arms. i need to see him beaming with pride when she describes how she completed a quest no child of athena ever could. but for the love of god. i need see to him experience all five stages of grief the second he sees annabeth being dragged into the pit. i need to see him pray to every god and goddess in existence that he reaches her in time. i need to see him look into annabeth's eyes and come to terms with the notion that they might never come back from this. and i need to see him confess that he'd relive every awful moment of his life if it meant that they were together in their dying moments.

#he loves her so much #i could cry #percy and annabeth #annabeth and percy #percy jackson #annabeth chase #percabeth #percabeth fluff #percabeth angst #percabeth headcanon #percabeth fic #percabeth being the cutest couple to ever not exist #no one's doing it like our boy #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo text post #pjo

[barbarianprncess]

a missing scene from the quest featuring grover parenting, percy drooling, and annabeth contemplating.

#HAPPY PJOTV #*wrestling announcer voice* SHEEEEES BAAAACCKKKK #i absolutely ADORE the adaption and its inspired my to put my phd in percabethology to use #*mitski voice* my babies myyy babiessssss #percabeth #pjotv #pjotv missing scene #percabeth fic #percy jackson #annabeth chase #grover underwood #percy jackson and the olympians #my writing

[clare-with-no-i]

anyway my hc for Percy's life post-books is that he's a firefighter and no I will not be taking criticism about it

#clare shitposts #pjo #a relief of islands #percabeth #percabeth fic

[anticomedygarden]

hair

Annabeth had a complicated relationship with her hair.

also on ao3

-

"Ow!" Annabeth whined when Thalia pulled on another messy blonde tangle.

"Sorry," Thalia said, probably for the millionth time. The older girl was kneeling behind Annabeth on the floor of their current hideout and attempting to get the knots out of Annabeth's hair. None of them really knew the last time it had been brushed - probably not since she ran away. "I don't really know what I'm doing here."

"You just gotta unknot it!" Annabeth said. She didn't see why it was so hard; Thalia was 14 and should know how to untangle hair by now. Annabeth did.

Thalia laughed at her, but it sounded strained. "I don't even have a brush, Squirt. Plus, I've never had long hair."

Annabeth's mouth dropped open. "Really?" She thought all girls had long hair at some point.

"Yep."

"Why?"

"I don't really like it. I like yours, though." Annabeth beamed, at least until Thalia tugged again, and she whined.

Suddenly, there was another set of hands in her hair. "Let me help," Luke said.

Thalia put a hand against Annabeth's back, and the younger girl tried not to buck it off. She was independent! "You can try, but I don't know how much better it can get without a wash and a brush."

Luke sighed. "I can at least try."

(Annabeth had never particularly cared about her hair. It wasn't that she didn't like it or anything, she just really didn't have any strong feelings toward it. She liked that it's there, liked the comforting weight and extra warmth in winter, but she'd figured out at a young age that the yellow color did nothing but hinder her in her pursuits, so she didn't bother with it. She could deal with it, but she wouldn't put any extra effort into it.)

When Annabeth left the showers, Percy was waiting on the steps of her cabin, lurking awkwardly.

"What are you doing?" she asked. It was a surprise, to say the least. She would've expected him to be hanging out with Grover or training in the arena. Besides, she had just gotten out of the shower. A blush worked its way into her cheeks.

"I don't know, I thought we could hang out," he said. Then, he caught sight of her fingers tangled in her knotted hair. "What happened?"

Her blush deepened. "It hasn't recovered from the quest yet." And she hadn't had the patience to brush it out in the few days since they'd been back, compounding and compounding the knot until she couldn't get it out if she tried. "I might have to cut it."

"Oh." Percy looked at her funny and stood, then made a move like he was gonna touch her hair. She stepped back on instinct, and he raised his hands. "I can try and get it out."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Seriously?"

"I can work a brush." He almost sounded offended.

Normally, she would refuse, balking at the prospect of someone touching her hair, but after the quest, she found she didn't mind the thought as much as she thought she would. Plus, the knot was really bad, so he couldn't make it much worse, and it'd save her a lecture from Silena. She shrugged. "Fine."

Then, she went and got her hair brush from her bunk and went back out the door and sat on the step in front of him.

"Holy crap, what did you do to it?" he exclaimed.

She turned to give him a disbelieving look. "I went on a quest! When do you think I had time to untangle it?"

He didn't really look like he believed her, but he didn't say anything else.

"All right," he muttered. The first pull through had her jerking her head back and grabbing his hand behind her.

"Don't try and do it all at once, you'll just make it worse," she scolded. "Start from the bottom."

She felt him gently pull the lower half of her hair and start brushing it. "Sorry."

"It's fine."

After a minute, she relaxed, actually kind of enjoying the feeling. It was nice.

Finally, he finished and handed her back the brush. "I'm done."

"Wait, really?" She reached back to feel her hair and sure enough, it was back to its usual wavy strands, unknotted and flowing. "How'd you do that so fast?"

He shrugged. "I dunno. It probably helped that it's wet. Do you wanna spar?"

Mouth still open, she nodded. She'd have to keep that little affinity of his in mind.

(As she got older, she couldn't help but think that indifference was an asset. Quests certainly didn't provide any time or supplies for hair care. Plus, having Percy around made sure it was wet with dirty water half the time, so why try.)

"Remind me why we're out here, again?" Percy asked as they picked their way through the forest.

"Because Tyson said he smelled something funny," Annabeth answered. "And be quiet, you're gonna scare whatever it is away."

Percy stuck his tongue out at her but stopped talking, and they continued walking through the forest until they heard a sound from a ways away.

They froze. One look and they were heading off toward the noise.

It soon became apparent they were heading for nothing as the ground beneath their feet became squishier and squishier.

Then, there was another noise, and she stopped abruptly.

Too abruptly, apparently, because the next thing she knew, she was face down in muddy swamp water.

Groaning, she didn't stay down long and jumped up, knocking Percy over into the water. (He'd be fine.)

"What the Hades, Seaweed Brain?" she said.

He stood slowly. "Why'd you stop?"

"I heard something," she said, reaching up to get some of the gunk off her face. When she touched her hair, though, she paused. It was soaked through with the brackish water. The only thing that could clean it now was a good shower.

Well. It's not like she really cared all that much.

That was her only consolation as they trudged back to camp.

(She didn't think she'd ever want to chop it off; no, it was a part of her, a part she did kinda love on good days, even if it was a nuisance. And she loved having that connection to Percy, and Silena, in a way.)

"Damn, girl, what did I tell you?" Silena said from her spot behind Annabeth's chair. The older girl was attempting to rescue the blonde mass from its latest adventure, and Annabeth was afraid it wasn't looking too good.

"I was kidnapped by a titan, I couldn't exactly take care of it," Annabeth grumbled, wincing when Silena gave a particularly rough pull. She'd been sitting in this chair for years for the daughter of Aphrodite to cut her hair and just generally take care of it, and she still couldn't stand watching herself in the vanity mirror. She looked away.

"Well, I'm afraid I may have to cut it."

"That's fine," she said. It wouldn't be the first time. She looked at herself one final time to mourn the current length and caught sight of the grey streak. "Wait!"

"What?" Silena said, sounding surprised. "What's wrong?"

"Are you sure you can't untangle it?" she asked.

Silena sighed and picked up the knot of hair again. "I can try, but it'll take a while."

"That's fine," Annabeth said definitively. Hair grew at approximately half an inch per month, but Annabeth wasn't sure how the stress from holding the sky would affect the growth rate or the return to its normal color. However, she wasn't going to hurry the process along, at least, not as long as Percy still had his.

Not that she would ever tell anyone that.

So she sat as patiently as she ever had while Silena untangled her hair.

(Probably the longest Annabeth ever went without brushing her hair was when Percy was missing. Without his fingers to run through it or Silena to pester her about it, she just didn't think of it. Or want to think of it.)

"Okay, no. Come here."

Annabeth looked up from the map she was staring at on a table in Bunker 9 to see Piper walking towards her. "What?"

Leo glanced over from whatever project he was working on with a similar expression of bewilderment on his face. Clearly, he didn't know what Piper was talking about, either.

"Annabeth, your hair. When was the last time you brushed your hair?" Piper asked exasperatedly, steering Annabeth to sit down in a chair.

"I was in the middle of something," Annabeth protested.

"You can go back to staring at that map after I fix this rat's nest," said Piper. "Seriously, I know you have a brush. When was the last time you used it?"

Accepting her fate, Annabeth just shrugged. Her hair was rarely, if ever, on the front of her mind.

When Piper attempted to drag a brush through it, they both winced. "Oh my gods, there's a ponytail in here? How long has that been there? And how long has it been since you washed it?"

Once again, Annabeth shrugged. She honestly had no idea, though, come to think of it, it had been pretty itchy lately.

"Okay, well, that ends now." With that, Piper went to work on the knot, attacking it with the brush. "I'm gonna have to cut the ponytail out."

Annabeth startled. "Wait - the hair or the rubber band?"

"The rubber band," Piper said, causing Annabeth to breathe a sigh of relief. She knew it was stupid, but she didn't want there to be any risk of Percy not recognizing her when they found Camp Jupiter. "Your hair is completely wrapped around it."

Without waiting for a response, she whipped out Katoptris and sliced the rubber band out. Annabeth's hair didn't move much.

"Good lord," Piper muttered. "Here we go." The daughter of Aphrodite then went at the knot with the same vigor as Annabeth going at a training dummy. It did not feel good.

Piper was far less gentle than her sister. Piper was far less gentle than Percy.

Annabeth didn't like that thought, didn't like thinking of the dead, and she really didn't like thinking of Percy as missing.

But when she squirmed to try and get away, Piper gripped her shoulder, keeping her from standing. "Piper, I-"

"Hold still."

"I can do it-"

"But you won't, will you?" Piper said, raising an eyebrow.

Even Annabeth had to admit that she was right, but that didn't make it any easier. "I promise I'll-"

"No," Piper said with finality. However, it was what she said next that rooted Annabeth in place. "Let me do this for you, please."

She paused. It had never occurred to her that Piper might be trying to help in whatever way she could, that she didn't have the mechanical skills to help build the ship or the memories to help try and pinpoint where exactly Camp Jupiter was. "Fine."

"Thank you."

So, she sat there while Piper untangled her hair and only winced every so often.

Finally, probably an hour later, she was done, and they both stood. "Now, you're going to go eat dinner, then you're gonna shower, and then you're gonna go to bed."

Annabeth blanched. "I still have so much work to do."

Piper put her hands on her hips. "And it will still be there in the morning."

They stared at each other, neither one willing to relent, until Leo giggled from across the bunker. "Someone's in trouble."

Piper snorted. "I don't know why you're laughing, Repair Boy, you're going, too."

Annabeth didn't have to see his face to know his mouth had hit the floor. "I never agreed to that!"

Piper's eyes narrowed, and she went to grab Leo from his work bench. "I don't care." She pointed at the door. "Now, both of you, dinner, shower, bed."

There was no way Annabeth would agree to that, not when there was still so much work to do on the ship, maps to study, star charts to examine - really, she didn't have time. "How about dinner and bed, then shower in the morning?"

Piper's eyes hardened from where she was dragging Leo by the collar over to the door, then she pushed Annabeth's back until the blonde was also standing outside the door. "Dinner, shower, bed." She turned around to lock Bunker 9 behind them. "And for the love of the gods, wash your hair. Yes, Leo, both of you."

(Annabeth needn't have worried about Percy recognizing her. She probably could have shaved her head and painted her face to look like Iron Man, and he would recognize her, even in the depths of Tartarus.)

"What do you think of me cutting my hair?" Annabeth asked.

Her and Percy were limping along the Phlegethon at the approximate rate of a Zamboni in a swamp. Pain and soreness had settled into every corner of her body, but Annabeth was somehow thinking of her hair tangled at the back of her neck and stuck to her face with sweat, and how the hell she would fix it if they made it back to the mortal world. (When. When they made it back to the mortal world.)

She barely felt Percy turn to look at her. "I think you should do whatever you want with it."

Aw. She probably should have predicted that. "Come on, tell me the truth."

He paused. "You know I love your hair."

When he didn't say anything else, she pressed her fingers against his waist. "But?"

"But," he started. "But it's your hair."

"I know that," she said with more force than she meant to.

If she could see anything in the dark, she would've seen his brows furrow. "Do you really wanna get rid of it?"

She bit her lip. "No." She couldn't bear to let go of everything it meant to her now, the memories it carried beyond just the grey streak: Thalia, Luke, Silena, Piper, Percy. It was hers to care for, hers to maintain, and she hated that it took Tartarus for her to realize that. "I just don't know how it's going to recover from this."

"Hey," he said, stopping them. "It's gonna be fine. It'll get through it." She gave him a disbelieving look, though she wasn't sure he could see it. "Do you know how I know?"

Her hands fiddled with the back of his shirt where they were wrapped around his waist. "How?"

"Because it's so bright that it's one of the only things I can see right now."

She pressed her face into his chest. "All right. If you say so."

He rested a cheek on her head. "I do."

(Then, of course, there were the practical purposes.)

"Okay, I think I'm finally getting this," Percy said above her.

"Thank the gods."

He had been messing with her hair for about two hours now trying to figure out how to do a French braid. Without technology, his only resource was a book he found at the library, and it wasn't like Annabeth knew how to do it.

Though she may want to learn soon for the same reason Percy was. He was gonna have a little sister, one that, for all intents and purposes, would probably grow up with Annabeth as an older sister figure which was absolutely insane for her to think about. She technically had plenty of experience as a counselor and an actual older sister (though that qualification was debatable), but it was a whole other thing when it was Percy's baby sister.

It was very hard not to think of Silena, and even harder not to think of Thalia. If she was half the older sister to the new little girl that Silena and Thalia were to her, she would have succeeded.

But for now, she could help Percy learn to be a big brother.

(So maybe she did love her hair. Just a little bit.)

#percabeth #annabeth chase #percy jackson #annabeth x percy #percy x annabeth #percy and annabeth #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #percabeth fic #percabeth fanfic #my writing #my fic #silena beauregard #thalia grace #luke castellan #piper mclean #my fanfic #percabeth fluff #fluff #rick riordan #pjo hoo toa #pjo fic #pjo fanfic #annabeth pjo #percy pjo

[darkmagyk]

Thirty, Flirty, and Thriving

In honor of his 30th Birthday, have a fic about Percy Jackson's 14th Anniversary. Check it out here on AO3.

Percy had been a morning person for a very long time. He thought it was probably something to do with being an East Coaster in his heart. And that connection between the beach and the sunrise. He and Frederick had had a conversation about that, once, about how much they both disliked watching the sun set over the ocean, knowing in their veins it should be the other way around. There was a reason neither of them lived in California anymore, after all.

He was alone in that, at least in his bedroom, however. Frederick Chase had thought that the sun should rise over the ocean, not set on it. But he didn't much want to see it, except for on very special occasions. And his daughter was the same.

Annabeth was a night owl. Because of course she was, what else would she be? A lark? He suppressed a laugh at the idea of calling her that, careful not to wake her as he rolled out of bed. She needed her beauty rest. It was a Friday, but she'd taken the day off, and he intended to let her sleep in, just like she preferred.

She deserved it. Working so hard, and all that.

He didn't ever work on Fridays. His classes were all on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and he preferred to do research at home on Mondays and Wednesdays. Sometimes, he got dragged to campus because of a departmental meeting, but he'd made it pretty clear to the chair that he saw his academic career connected to a university as a fun hobby, and if they tried to drag him a second longer away from his family that he was okay with, he'd leave it behind in a second for stay-at-home-dad-hood, or at least independent scholarship or a school that would give a classics prodigy everything he wanted. So they were pretty decent about not pushing for committees that did meet on Fridays, or when he wanted to be elsewhere. Who knew being a demigod made you such a hot commodity in the world of academia?

He had a plan though, because it was not just any Friday, it was a very special Friday. And he wanted to celebrate it like it deserved.

But he was a little surprised, when he got to the kitchen at 6:30 in the morning, to find what had been spotless when he'd gone to bed, now very much not that. There was a pile of flour on the counter nearest him, and something else on the kitchen island that might have been sugar. There was melted butter all over the cookie sheet. The sink was full of two of his stand mixer bowls, a shield--the baking kind, not the weapon kind, though that had happened once before--and the dough hook and whisk, plus two wooden spoons and two more normal mixing bowls.

“What are you doing up so early?” Junie demanded. She kept repositioning herself, trying to stand in front of the stand mixer, which is clearly going on, and shooting looks out of the corner of her eye at her little sister. The secret message being sent was apparently being understood, because Lucie was standing in front of the ovens, trying to raise her hands, presumably so Percy could not see what cooking was happening.

Behind Junie, on the counter, about a third of a bottle of blue food coloring was leaking onto the granite. He once again applauded his wife’s choice to go with the blue marble.

“I’m always up this early,” he pointed out, he glanced between them. “You aren’t, though.”

“I am,” Lucie chimed in.

“I know you are; I’m surprised you're not watching your cartoons.” Lucie, all of seven, was all Annabeth. Blonde curls and gray eyes and a warrior’s cunning. But in her sleeping habits, she was all him. That was one of his favorite things about having kids, picking out the pieces of him and Annabeth, and learning all about the awesome people they created together.

“This is more important than cartoons,” Lucie said.

“What are you doing?”

“Lucie,” Junie snapped, mouth tight.

Lucie snapped her mouth closed.

Percy looked between the two of them, going back and forth to see if either of them would crack.

They were holding up admirably well.

But though they were legacies of Athena, with all the wisdoms and battle acumen that might have afforded them, Percy had a work around.

Even wisdom had to bow to strength, sometimes. So, Percy walked up to Lucie, who looked up at him, staring at him gilessly. The eyes of a little girl who could steal from a gift shop and not even feel bad about it. He loved his kids so much.

He reached down, hooked his arms under her arms, and lifted.

The reaction was instant. She shrieked. Her kicks were not wild flailing, but rather well aimed and deliberate. Which was actually to his advantage, as it meant he could anticipate them a little bit, and tense up as he turned and set her back down.

“Shh, you don’t want to wake your mama or your sisters,” he said lightly, while he peered into the oven. He had already guessed it was a cake. He could only sort of make out the cake through the little window, in the dim yellow light. But it was clearly blue.

“Junie,” He said, not looking away from the oven, “would you please make sure the food coloring doesn’t drip on the floor?”

She gasped a little bit, and by the time he straightened back up. She was ripping a wad of paper towels from the under counter holder.

“It was supposed to be a surprise.” Lucie said.

“Well, I’ve got to make Mama her breakfast.”

“It’s your birthday, shouldn’t she make it for you?” Junie asked.

Percy raised an eyebrow, and Junie nodded, conceding his point. Annabeth Jackson was one of the most amazing people to ever have existed. She could slay monsters and fell giants and design monuments and lead armies and kiss booboos and sew historically accurate high medieval princess dresses from late Byzantium. But she could not cook.

“Right,” Junie said, and then she started nodding. “Exactly, Mama can’t cook. So, she never makes you breakfast, or special treats for your birthday, like you do for all of us.”

“So you two decided to make me a cake?”

“Yeah,” Lucie said, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Happy birthday, Daddy.”

“Thank you, Birdie.” She grinned up at him. She was missing a tooth. It was horribly adorable.

“Happy birthday, Dad,” Junie said, with much less enthusiasm.

“What’s wrong, Honey Dew?” She frowned at the childish nickname. Because his baby had just turned ten two weeks ago.

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” she said. “A special surprise.”

“It’s both,” he assured her. He kept a hold of Lucie but shuffled over to Junie, hugging her after turning off the stand mixer. The buttercream was more like sweet, blue butter at this point. But that was alright. They should probably wait until the cake had cooled before worrying about frosting. “Thank you for thinking of me.” He ruffled each of their sets of curls, and held them close. They were so grown up now. Able to wake up early and make a mess in the kitchen.

The smell of baking was filling the air, and it smelled like they’d probably done it mostly right.

“You’re welcome, Daddy,” Lucie said.

“Tell me about how you got the idea.”

“It was mine,” Junie said, her mother’s daughter, always eager for credit for her brilliant ideas. It had already cost her two schools, which was a lot for a rising fifth grader, though not quite his record. So he counted it as a win. “We’ve been having Mia teach us.”

“That was very nice of Mia,” Percy said. He really had hoped, after ten years, his mother would have gotten over her deep resentment over having a grandchild before she was forty, which had resulted in her absolute refusal to be called anything with the slightest hint of Gran in it.

Some of the skepticism must have leaked into his voice.

“I’m allowed in the kitchen unsupervised,” Junie said defensively.

“I’m pretty sure there was more to that agreement,” Percy said, chief among them being ‘the ten-year-old does not count as supervision for her little sisters.’ Though that was kind of in a gray area with Lucie, who just needed to not get distracted around heat. It wasn’t like they were worried about knives and their kids, after all. “But you’re not in trouble, baby, I promise. I am so happy you did this for me. But I am going to need help cleaning up. And then we’ll re-make some butter cream. And then you can start helping me prep the olives for Mama’s anniversary breakfast?”

At 9:30, he was something like done with breakfast. The spread of homemade cinnamon rolls, bacon, sausage, quiche, and olives were all laid out on multiple trays.

Left her to own devices, Annabeth would have liked to sleep later, but he knew she wouldn’t be. He went back into their bedroom, Junie and Lucie carrying other things, to find her sitting up in bed. Sophia in her lap and Thalassa next to her, the three of them acting out a Greek tragedy with stuffies.

“Happy Anniversary,” he said. Reminding Lucie to put the giant tray of Olives on the bedside table and Junie to set the rest of the quiche down and go get more plates so they could all eat together.

They settled in together, the six of them, sitting on the bed to eat breakfast. Their bedding was going to require a lot of washing when this was over. But that was okay, because fiber crafts were just one of Annabeth’s many talents. She was great with laundry. Everyone had cinnamon rolls, Thalassa got cream cheese icing in her hair, and Sophia sucked on a piece of bacon, while Junie and Lucie recounted their cake decorating adventure. Percy had to leave at one point to get another jar of olives. Proof, he thought, of how much he loved his girls.

When he got back, they had all shifted enough that he was able to sit right next to Annabeth. She leaned into him as Junie used the stuffed animals to explain the Allied powers' aviation strategy during World War II, because she spent a lot of time with her grandfather.

He felt Annabeth’s hand start fishing for his, and he grasped it, squeezing tightly. “Happy fourteenth anniversary.” Percy whispered, turning his head to plant a kiss on her close-cropped curls.

“Happy thirtieth birthday.” Annabeth replied.

“Best one yet.”

“You say that every year.”

“It's true every year,” Percy said, “every single birthday since my sixteenth has been getting better and better.”

“Well, I’m hoping this one can get better. I have plans, and they involve your favorite foods that I can buy from restaurants in New York City, and a Moana/Finding Nemo double feature, and my dad taking the girls for five hours after lunch.”

“Better and better, like I said.”

Something Junie had said caused Thalassa to break out into a pile of giggles. Not wanting to be left out, Sophia copied her.

Percy felt it in his heart, all of this. Happiness and love, and his perfect family.

“Happy birthday to me,” He whispered to himself before joining in the laugh.

#percy jackson #percabeth #pjo #pjo fic #percabeth fic #my fic

[thebigqueer]

"Permanence" - Percabeth - One-Shot

Summary: Percabeth's first "I love you." Word Count: 1755 Read on AO3

“Annabeth?” a voice calls, and she turns in her seat, her attention abruptly snatched from her laptop. “What are you doing up here so early?”

When she sees Percy leaning against the doorway to the mess hall, his lips quirked in amusement, Annabeth smiles. “Early?” she asks. “I’m pretty sure it’s noon.”  

Percy snorts and walks over to the supply of breakfast items on the table, which is endless, thanks to Leo’s genius. He picks up an apple, throws it in the air, and catches it again, all the while saying, “I mean you rarely come up here at this time. Feels like you barely come out of your little cocoon now.” 

His tone is still light, but there’s a slight jaggedness to it. She stares at the shape of Percy’s back for a moment as he keeps plucking away for things to eat, then stands and joins him. 

“Is there anything, like, unhealthy?” Percy asks when she sidles up to him. She looks up and fixes him with an exasperated smile, and he laughs. “What? Leo had eight months to prepare this ship, and for all the fancy shit he installed, he couldn’t even think of adding, like, a pizza dispenser?”

Annabeth rolls her eyes and hands him a candy bar sitting in the corner of the table. When his eyes catch sight of it, he grins and nudges her with his shoulder. “You’re the best.” 

“Yeah?” she asks, and now she faces him, raising her eyebrows. “Let’s go back to what you just said.” 

As he works on opening the wrapper, he glances at her. “What did I say?”

“Something about me being in a cocoon.” 

“Oh.” His eyes darken, but then immediately brighten up again as he takes a bite off the candy. “Oh, wow, this is so good.” Percy holds it out to her. “You should try it. Wow. Thank you, Leo.”

“You’re welcome,” warbles a voice from the speakers, and Percy flinches.

“Jeez,” he mutters, lowering his voice. “He’s like Big Brother or something.” 

Annabeth takes the bar from him but doesn’t taste it. She just keeps looking at him. “Percy, come on. What did you mean?”

Percy heaves a large, heavy sigh, then takes the candy bar back from her. When he doesn’t immediately go back to eating it — instead opting to play with the wrapper — her heart slows in dread. 

“Okay, I know you’ve been busy, so I didn’t really wanna say anything,” he says. “But it just feels like since we’ve found each other and been on this ship, we’ve just been so busy in all different directions. And when we’re not busy, you’re in your room, fiddling on your computer or something.” He stops playing with the wrapper and puts the half-eaten bar on the table, and now she knows he’s being serious. He doesn’t put his food down for anything.

“Percy…,” Annabeth says. 

Percy sighs again, and now he puts his full plate — filled to the brim with whatever he could find — on the table. Annabeth has to resist the urge to raise her eyebrows. “Eight months, Wise Girl. We haven’t been together in eight months, and the only moment we’ve had to ourselves was in the stables.” He tilts his head. “I just missed you. Miss you.” Then he huffs a humorless laugh and looks up at the ceiling, as if embarrassed. “I don’t really know why I’m getting so emotional about this. It’s just been a weird year.” 

“Yeah, I know,” she murmurs. She considers telling him about her year, too — how she’d tossed and turned in bed, waiting for some sign that he was even just okay. How she’d go to his apartment every week just to meet his mother and convince the two of them he was still fighting somewhere. How she had to convince Mr. D with everything she had to keep sending scouts for him, all the while losing hope herself that he even was out there. But she figures he wouldn’t want to know that, not now, at least. So instead, she just leans her head against his shoulder. “I’ve missed you, too, Seaweed Brain. I’m sorry.” 

A beat of silence passes, and then he brushes his hand against hers, pulls her fingers into his. She lifts her head to look up at him. “I’m sorry, too,” he murmurs. “I know you have a lot going on. And if anything, I’m just glad you’re okay. That’s all that matters.” He squeezes her hand. “But can you promise me something?”

“What?”

“Don’t push me out, Wise Girl. You don’t need to handle this whole… daughter of Athena mission thing on your own. I know that’s kinda ironic, coming from me, who went missing for eight months and basically left you alone” — he smiles nervously — “but I’m serious. I wasn’t there for you then, but I’m here for you now. And if I had any say in the past eight months, I would’ve been with you every moment.”

Annabeth wants to say something, but all her thoughts tangle up in her brain and her words form a knot at the back of her throat, too large to tumble out. And a part of her feels guilty, but in all honesty, all she can feel is a subtle warmth at the core of her heart. The way he’s talking to her, his voice oozing with genuine eagerness to spend time with her… it makes a warm flame burst to life in her chest, thawing the ice that had grown inside of her the past year.

She spent so long waiting for someone permanent, and each time she thought she found someone, they inevitably left her. Luke, Dad, Thalia, and even Percy for a while. But now, staring at him, letting his existence embrace her skin, she realizes something. Maybe she and Percy won’t be together every moment. Maybe she’ll be the one to go away next, whisked away on some petty quest for the gods where she may not even be able to see him for months. Maybe their futures hold completely different fates for them. But she knows now — completely, utterly, truthfully knows — that it doesn’t matter if they get whisked away to different ends of the world again. Because right here, in this moment, she knows he’s really with her every step of the way. He’s subtly eroded his way into her heart, has permanently carved his smile into her mind. He’s left something eternal, even if he isn't. And that’s good enough for her. 

“I’m sorry,” she finally manages to push out. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way, Percy. I’m so sorry for shutting you out. I didn���t even know I was doing it.” 

“It’s okay,” he promises, and he tugs on one of her curls. “I believe you. Just keep me in the loop as much as you’re comfortable with. And promise me we’ll tell each other when things are getting weird.” He squeezes her hand again. “If these eight months have taught me anything, it’s that it’s important to keep the people you care about the closest.”

Something burns around the edges of Annabeth’s eyes, and she realizes with a start it’s tears. Of all the things she'd been through the past few months, just a few pretty words from Percy are enough to make her want to cry. “I promise,” she breathes. 

Percy smiles. “Good. Now I can enjoy my food in peace.” He picks up his plate again, and then his candy bar. “By the way, the invitation to enjoy this is expired. Only for me now.” 

Annabeth laughs, and she expects Percy to move to take a seat at the table, but he doesn’t. He just keeps standing in front of her, smiling elatedly, and she realizes with a start that he’s waiting for her. 

And she’s not sure she can remember the last time someone did that for her. Which is maybe why she blurts the next words: “I love you.” 

For a second, Percy doesn’t react. Then his eyebrows rise, and his mouth slowly opens, and his eyes shimmer with surprise, but Annnabeth is pretty sure no one is more shocked than her. 

“What?” Percy asks, slowly setting his food down again. 

“Nothing.” But Annabeth is trying to hide her face.

He laughs and punches her arm playfully. “You got something to say to me, Wise Girl?” But if the sparkle in his eyes or the grin on his face have to say anything, he’s bullshitting her. 

“Say what?”

“Nooo,” he groans. “Come on, Annabeth.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Please. I’ll let you have my candy bar if you say it.” And she still doesn’t relent, but when he wraps his arms around her shoulders and leans in, his eyes close enough to shatter her resolve, his irises blades of green piercing through her shields, he says, “I love the way you say it.”

So she relents. And she says it again. 

And again. 

It’s only three words, but they ring in her head a million times, and the taste of them — like candy, like sugar, like clouds — bounces over her tongue a billion more. 

Percy keeps smiling, but it’s not a joking grin anymore — there’s something deeper, more soulful in it, his skin glowing with a warm undertone. “I love you, too, Wise Girl,” he whispers. 

And with those words ringing in her ears, echoing all the way down to her heart, making her blood glow, she doesn’t know if she has the ability to say anything else. She doesn’t even know what she’s supposed to say next. 

The silence begins to stretch on, cools the room around them. Suddenly the air around them feels too gooey, too heavy, too sweet, as if someone had spilled a whole bottle of rose perfume in the room, and Annabeth aches for their familiar banter, if only to calm the growing uneasiness in her. 

She runs her fingers up his hand.“You know what else I love?” she murmurs, trying to rein control of the moment.

“Me again?”

“Wrong.” She rubs Percy’s knuckles, then snatches the candy bar from his hand. “It’s making things hard for you.” 

“Hey! Give it back!” Percy cries, snapping his arm out to catch her, but she’s already out the entrance, onto the mast, waiting for Percy to come after her.

And he does. He follows her every step. 

It isn’t until later that evening that she realizes she left her laptop in the mess hall.

#my writing #percabeth #percy jackson #annabeth chase #riordanverse #percabeth fanfic #percabeth fic

[imaginmatrix]

Hii I love your writing!! Could u maybe write smthn where annabeth gets hurt and percys mad but he can't help but help her?? Angry kisses, wond cleaning, blah blah ??

idk if this is exactly what you were looking for but I hope you enjoy!!!

elevator deathtraps are better than prozac

#morgan murmurs #ask #anon #prompt #one shot #pjo #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #annabeth chase #percabeth #percabeth fic #percabeth fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #my writing #percy jackson fan fic #pjo fanfic

[ahecenn]

a bed of wildflowers

4.0k words

post tlo | fluff

summary: Annabeth is bedridden at the Jacksons, and she wouldn’t rather be anywhere else.

He laughs, warm and familiar. The kind of quiet laugh, just for her, that sets her heart racing. His joy is like witnessing the sun shine through a rain shower; you can’t help but stare at the simple beauty. There’s something so easy about having Percy in this way. Even when he interrupts her dreamless sleep just to piss her off.

read on ao3

#pjo #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackon and the olympians #percabeth #percabeth fanfic #percabeth fluff #ao3 #fanfic #percy x annabeth #annabeth chase #annabeth x percy #percabeth fic #ahecen projects #the lovelies #a bed of wildflowers #my stuff

[chironshorseass]

a secret, an oath, and a promise

an AU where Annabeth runs away with Luke, like he asked her to before the events of BOTL.

“bet annabeth’s the one behind all these attacks,” tyler, a son of ares, said to his buddies. percy was walking out of the arena, after his first encounter with quintus and mrs. o’leary, when he heard. “she knows the camp best, even better than luke. knows our strengths, our weaknesses…”

“makes sense,” another said. this guy was relatively new; percy only knew two things about him: one, he was a child of apollo, and two, percy had the strongest urge to beat the shit out of him. “from what you told me, she was really close to him, right?”

“yeah, she was. wouldn’t be surprised that when their forces attack, she’ll be at the front lines.”

the other two guys nodded in agreement.

percy couldn’t take it anymore. his hands formed into fists, nails digging into the skin of his palm. he walked up to the group, heart about to burst.

“hey, tyler?” he called.

tyler turned—just in time to receive percy’s punch to the face.

read chapter 4 here.

read from the beggining

#percabeth #percy jackson #pjo fic #luke castellan #percabeth fic #annabeth chase #pjo au #ITS HERE!!!! SAY HELLO!!!! #secret oath promise #look mom i can write

[kazoosandfannypacks]

summary: percy and annabeth reminisce on memories of the feelings they had for each other in their years as friends. word count: 1427 words a/n: this one's based on a headcanon i have about the moment annabeth realized she had a crush on percy, but because that moment seems too small to write into an actual fic, i decided to build this fic around it as, like, a memory. taglist:@laughingphoenixleader@jedi-nurse {if you’d like to be added to my percabeth/pjo taglist, let me know!}

also on ao3!

But When Did You Know?

 "When did you realize you liked me?"

 It was a simple enough question for Percy to ask, and a simple enough time and place to ask it.

 Less than a week had passed since his sixteenth birthday, which he was pretty sure was the best day of his entire life— not just because it was his birthday, or he could finally legally get away with driving, or even because he'd defeated Kronos and saved the world.

 No, it had been the best day ever because it was the day he and Annabeth had started a new chapter of their relationship, this one as boyfriend and girlfriend. He'd gone to bed that night with a smile on his face, whispering the words "Annabeth Chase is my girlfriend. I'm Annabeth Chase's boyfriend" a million times, like it was the most incredible thought in the world.

 Though Percy was certain the novelty of this relationship would never wear off for him, he couldn't wait until the rest of camp got over them. As nice as it was that "Percy and Annabeth are dating" was as accepted and celebrated a fact at Camp Half-Blood as "our t-shirts are orange," there was a part of Percy that didn't appreciate the eavesdropping, the constantly being approached by other campers saying how long they've "totally shipped them," or the numerous bets that Cabins 10 and 11 had placed about the progress of their relationship.

 But, at the very least, until they went from their camp's "one true pairing" (a phrase that one of Aphrodite's red-faced daughters had explained to them in detail) to that annoying couple everyone always rolls their eyes at, they didn't have to worry about other people at camp complaining about how mushy they got around each other in public.

 Which meant nobody would complain as they sat together on the steps of Cabin 3, holding hands and smiling at each other like nobody else mattered.

 "I've liked you from the beginning, Seaweed Brain," Annabeth answered.

 Sure, it wasn't the most endearing pet name ever, but it meant all the world to him.

 "Yes, but when did you know?" Percy asked, then continued with a sarcastic fake confidence, "were you watching me fight some monster or fury and thinking 'I need him as my partner on more than just the battlefield,' or listening to one of my genius plans and absolutely smitten with my intellect and cutting wit, or," he noticed how she giggled and shook her head, "or laughing at my stupidity as I made another one of my pointless rambles?"

 He raised an eyebrow. She laughed a little more. He rolled his eyes.

 "You weren't even there when it happened," Annabeth finally said, "it was while Clarisse and I were trying to figure out the labyrinth."

 "Really?" Percy asked.

 "Don't get all conceited," Annabeth said, "but I might've mentioned something you'd said once. In fact, I might've mentioned you a lot more than I thought I did."

 "Something about my good looks and charisma?" Percy asked.

 "I said don't get all conceited about it," Annabeth nudged him, "it was usually about your stupid jokes, and your plans that always looked like they'd failed right before they succeeded," she bit her lip, "and then Clarisse's eyebrows wrinkled, and she scowled at me, and she said, 'you have a crush on the little runt, don't you?'"

 "How charming," Percy muttered, this conversation with his girlfriend not nearly as romantic as he'd hoped.

 "I don't know which offended me more," Annabeth shook her head, "the idea that even Clarisse thought I liked you, or her calling you a little runt. I told her no, but the thought didn't leave me."

 She closed her eyes for a moment, then looked right at him, with that little laugh she always used when she knew that she was happy but couldn't figure out why.

 "That night I realized that the reason I was so upset," Annabeth sighed, "was because I knew Clarisse was absolutely right."

 "What a horrible realization," Percy rolled his eyes.

 "What, that I liked you?"

 "No," Percy smiled, "having to admit that Clarisse was right about something."

 "Okay, Seaweed Brain," Annabeth said, "your turn."

 "What?"

 "When did you realize you liked me?"

 "That's a tricky one," Percy said, and though he'd been thinking about the answer for a while, he still wasn't sure how to say it, "it, I mean, it's like. One minute I thought maybe I might actually be friends with you, the very next minute I was in love with you— and looking back, I realized I'd loved you all along."

 "Are you always this cheesy?" Annabeth asked.

 "You bring out the best in me," Percy said, "but really, I think it was sometime after we found Nico and his sister, when you got taken by one of Kronos' minions."

 "Distance does make the heart grow fonder," Annabeth offered.

 "Yeah, well the distance made my heart a worried mess, Wise Girl," Percy said, "and I suppose it was obvious— obvious enough, at least, to attract the attention of a certain goddess."

 "Was this when my mother told you she doesn't 'approve of our friendship?'"

 "Before that," Percy said, "different goddess— Aphrodite. She wanted to talk to me personally, about you, and me. Something about my story— our story— having a lot of exciting twists ahead," he sighed, just a little, looking deep into her eyes, "and something about true love."

 Annabeth blinked, her eyes a carefully calculating storm of blue and gray.

 "I didn't believe her at first," Percy squeezed her hand, "but by the time we got you back, I knew, deep down, that she was probably right."

 "The goddess of love," Annabeth blinked in disbelief, "said that you and I are true love?"

 "Yeah," Percy said, and he leaned a little closer to her, studying her face carefully. Hers was a face she knew well, and this was an expression he could read better than any of his own— she was trying to figure something out, and double-checking the conclusion she'd already come to.

 "I don't know Aphrodite very well," Annabeth reasoned, her tone one of annoyance masking worry, "but I know her type. What do you think she meant by 'exciting twists?'"

 "Let's see," Percy said, letting go of her hand so he could count out some examples on his fingers, "following her saying this, your mom told me to stay away from you and I responded by dancing in the streets of Olympus with you, a girl I didn't even have a crush on yet got in the way of us going to see a movie together, you kissed me and I blew up a volcano, you thought I was dead for two weeks while I was marooned on Calypso's island, you didn't give me a good luck kiss before the battle for Manhattan, you almost died, my other almost-girlfriend took a job of lifelong singlehood, you and I became the first Camp Half-Blood couple in decades— if not ever— to get away with making out at the bottom of canoe lake..."

 "That's enough," Annabeth nudged him, turning away a little so he wouldn't see how hard she was blushing, but he noticed anyway, "at least, I hope it is."

 "What do you mean?" Percy asked, noticing a shift in her tone.

 "What if that's not all the twists the gods have in store for us?" she asked, "what if it's all only the beginning, like we're still in the set-up of some sick joke?"

 Even painted with worry, her face still had Percy smiling.

 "If there's more twists in store," Percy said, "then this is what's gonna happen. I'm gonna take your hand," and he paused, and held his hand out to her, and she took it, "and I'm gonna stand by your side. Because no matter what twists they throw at us, I won't walk away from you."

 Annabeth looked like she was about to interrupt with logic, but Percy caught her off guard by kissing her hand.

 "I'll always be by your side," he whispered, "after everything we've been through, I won't let anything come between us again."

 He couldn't tell if she believed him— he couldn't even tell if he believed himself— but the look in her eyes said that for now, this moment together was enough.

 She nestled closer to him, and he let go of her hand so he could wrap his arm around her, holding her closer as they stared up at all the stars in the heavens.

🌊•🧡•🦉

#percy jackson #annabeth chase #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #percabeth #the last olympian #kazzy writes #fic #fanfiction #percabeth fic #percy jackson book spoilers #kazzy borrows uncle rick's sweater #otp: the rivalry ends here

[demigods-posts]

i have this weird headcanon of percy and annabeth getting married. they says their vows through sobs, hard for the audience to understand, but they hear each other clear as day. the words tattoo on their skin since they kissed underwater all those years ago. chiron officiates and announce them newly weds. they kiss. percy cries into her shoulder and annabeth holds him amid the crowds tearful applause. sally's awaiting by the door with a pistol in her hands in case a monster wants to try her. it's a beautiful sight really. and i should write this.

#percy jackon and the olympians #pjo text post #pjo #pjo headcanon #percy jackson #annabeth chase #percabeth #percabeth headcanon #percabeth fluff #percabeth wedding #percabeth fic #percabeth being the cutest couple to ever not exist #anyway i love these two to my core #yes grover is the best man and thalia is the maid of honor #yes frank and leo are up there with grover and piper and hazel stand right behind thalia #don't think i forgot

[barbarianprncess]

annabeth chase and her many losing dogs: an (incomplete) anthology

read on ao3

or

chapter one: a (brief) introduction to the game and it's players

She gives Cerberus her red rubber ball.

Because he’s a monster, but she doesn’t think he means to be.

Because he’s a lonely dog and she is lonely the same way. The kind that doesn’t know how lonely it is until a person shows up and reminds them. The kind that wishes to just be left in loneliness long enough for companionship to be forgotten altogether.

The ball will make him happy. He will destroy it within minutes, it will disappear after he does nothing but be himself.

(She does that sometimes too.)

First Round: Frederick Chase

Bet Type: Blind Faith; awarded via mass tradition.

Made with no experience. 

Trust given without the knowledge that trust must be earned. 

Annabeth is four years old and hungry. 

She hasn’t eaten since dinner last night. 

Dad is playing with his planes again. The fancy small piece ones that Annabeth is not allowed to touch, ‘not now, not ever.’ She’s not supposed to bother Dad when he plays with his planes. 

Plane time is Dad’s very special ‘by himself’ time. He’d explained a while ago that he has lots of very hard work to do, and then he has to take care of her which is even more lots of hard work,  and sometimes he needs his special ‘by himself’ time, because Annabeth is a big girl now who can read her books and not touch the sockets. 

(She wonders why he doesn’t do his special ‘by himself’ time when she’s taking her naps. That way they could have their together time when she’s awake.)

This would be fine, but she just ate the last of her super secret dad-is-in-his-study snack stash that she hides under her bed last week. 

She wants to go in and ask, but the last time she’d interrupted him, even though he smiled at her, his eyebrows got all scrunched up together. He was not happy to see her.

(Sometimes, she wonders if he ever is.)

Annabeth is really very hungry.

There are bananas on top of the fridge.

Annabeth creates a plan. 

The plan goes south almost immediately and she ends up dangling from the top of the white mountain with glass and bananas all over the ground. 

���Christ! Annabeth!” She is being yanked from her very small cliff and carried into the living room and Dad’s voice is very loud and his face is more than scrunched eyebrows and Annabeth is ashamed.

“What were you doing?”

“I was climbing on top of the fridge. I knocked over a vase.” 

That was the wrong answer because somehow his face gets even angrier. “Yes, I can see that. What were you thinking?”

“I wanted a banana. They were on top of the fridge.” 

He pinches his nose. That wasn’t the right answer either. “You just had breakfast.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did. You had the fruit circles.”

“That was yesterday.”

He hesitates. “Okay, well you did wake up late, you couldn’t have waited until it was time to eat lunch?”

The clock on the microwave says 4:13 pm. “It is lunch.” 

He looks at the clock. Closes his eyes. When he opens them, he still looks angry but not at her. His voice is much quieter. “Why didn’t you come get me?”

“Last time you got sad. You were in a groove, you said unless it was an emergency not to come in. I thought I could reach it.”

She watches his face change. His eyebrows are still scrunched up but his eyes get gentler and sadder all at once. He sits down on the couch and lifts her up into his lap. It’s been so long, she sits on his knees like he’s a chair. He turns her around in his arms. 

“You’re such a quiet kid, Annabeth. Sometimes I forget you're here.”

She doesn’t think he said it to make her sad, but it does anyway. Which is irritating because she didn’t do anything wrong and she feels bad anyway. 

“I was a quiet kid too.”

She doesn’t want to be quiet. She wants to scream. She wants to cry. She wants to hit him. She wants—

“I’m gonna clean up the glass and then we’ll have mac and cheese.”

She nods and lets herself be sat back on the couch.

Second Round: Ms. Helen (from Dad’s work)

Bet Type: Good Faith; awarded via proxy.

Made with no experience. 

Trust given without the knowledge that trust must be earned. 

The first time her father forgets to pick her up from daycare, she is too young to remember. She was also too young to remember the 2nd, 3rd, 4th, and 5th times. 

She remembers the sixth.

Ms. Helen, dad’s work friend that has come to dinner  every wednesday for four weeks, shows up at school wearing black yoga pants and a messy-on-purpose bun.

(The kind that always looks strange in the bathroom mirror when she tries it on her curls in the morning before they leave.)

She smiles at her teacher, tight and pinchy. She does that laugh/talk/sigh thing adults do when the words they're saying don’t really matter. And before Annabeth knows it, she's staring at the backseat of a minivan.

“What’s that?”

Ms. Helen raises an eyebrow. “The car seat?”

Annabeth nods but looks down. She said it like it was obvious. Annabeth knows obvious things.

“Don’t you sit in one of  these to come to daycare?” 

“No.”

“You just sit in the seat?”

“Yes.”

“You're too little. It’s not safe to sit by yourself.”

Annabeth doesn’t know what she's supposed to say. This happens a lot. Adults do this thing where they ask you a question that they want a specific answer to. Annabeth has developed a skill in which she can always tell when the truth is not what an adult wants to hear. It has, so far, been a pretty useless skill because she has yet to master the skill of knowing what it is that they actually want to hear. 

(Sometimes, she figures it out and tells the truth anyway. Those times she doesn’t really mind getting in trouble after.)

“Your father must’ve put you in one of these.”

Annabeth shrugs. Her talent has deduced that Helen does not want Annabeth to say that she has never been in one of those, and figures nonverbal is the safest option because she would like to go home.

Helen crouches down and gets way up close to Annabeth's face. Her grown-up face-paint is smudged around the corner of her left eye. She smells like dish soap. 

“I borrowed this from my friend when your father called, so we have to get you your own. From now on, you don’t get in a car without one of these. Understand?”  

Annabeth nods.

Helen is looking at her with something strange and sad in her smudged up eye. She takes a deep breath.

Annabeth crawls into the backseat and waits to be tied in.

Fourth Round: Thalia Grace, Grover Underwood & Luke Castellan

Bet Type: Calculated Risk; awarded to an individual after carefully evaluated outcomes

Made after a great loss, in which perceived benefits outweigh potential detriment. 

Trust earned after a win. 

Thalia is frowning at her. 

Annabeth hasn’t been with her and Luke for that long, but she knows that this is not cause for too much concern because she’s usually frowning. 

Luke is the one with the smiles, and the cuddles, and the soft spot for the helpless strays—dogs and girls alike.

Thalia is the one with the frowns. 

(Annabeth can tell she has a soft spot for Luke though.)

Before she can muster up the courage to ask, Luke beats her to it. “What’s up with you?”

“Her hair.” Thalia has a talent where she can frown and speak at the same time. Annabeth wants to learn how to do that.

Luke smiles at her before fixing his eyes on her puff. She gets that feeling in her stomach she used to get when her teachers asked her questions about her house, like she should be hiding behind her fathers legs. 

(The last time she tried, Helen had snatched her arm and told her she was being rude.)

“Her hair.” He repeats in a way that tells both Annabeth and Thalia he has no idea what the problem is.

Thalia ignores him, and scribbles something down on his arm. “I saw a beauty supply store down the road. I need you to figure out a way to get this stuff.”

Luke frowns over her shoulder. (Uh-oh.) “That’s gonna be a bit of a stretch.”

“So stretch.”

“Thals—,”

She looks up at him and her eyes are all intense like when she’s fighting a monster. “They weren’t combing her hair. I took the hair tie off and it’s staying put. She’s only been on the run for 3 days.” Thalia looks back down at her. “Right? That’s how long you were by yourself?”

“Yes.” Annabeth nods. One of her favorite parts about being with Luke and Thalia, is that the truth is always enough.

Thalia looks back at Luke with something in her eyes that’s even softer than when Luke sleeps. “They weren’t combing her hair.”

Luke nods, a new kind of frown. The one he had when they found her. “On it.”

He winks at Annabeth and tweaks her nose which makes her laugh. Then he’s gone and it’s just the two of them. 

Annabeth and Thalia have never been alone for that long before, except for bathroom trips and when Luke gets them snacks.

Annabeth knows it wasn’t Thalia’s idea for her to join the two of them. Annabeth doesn’t think she wanted to leave her there, but she knows Thalia liked it when it was just her and Luke.

She’s looking up at the sky muttering something angry in another language. “What’s Luke going to get?” 

Thalia considers her for a moment and then sits down leaning against the brick alleyway. “Some hair stuff. Basics.”

“I thought we only took risks for food.”

Thalia smiles a little and it makes Annabeth's chest feel fuzzy. 

“You’re a smart kid.” She pats the ground next to her and Annabeth goes to sit next to her. 

“My mother…had a bad time. Things that aren’t supposed to be hard for mortals were very hard for her. And sometimes that made her not very nice to me.” She pauses and Annabeth waits patiently, doesn’t dare speak a word.

“She couldn’t really take care of herself. So, she couldn’t really take care of me either. My hair is curly like yours. And hair like ours needs special attention. When you don’t give it the care it needs, it gets stuck like this.” She takes Annabeth's hand and brings it up to her head, lets her tug on one strand gently. 

“I like your hair a lot!”

“Thank you. I do too. But, it wasn’t my choice. My mother let my hair loc up so she didn’t have to comb it every day. You should get to decide whether you want your hair like this. Did you ask to have your hair up in a bun for that long?”

Annabeth could tell her how her Dad used to braid her hair on Sunday nights. How they would sit and listen to music and he would spray and comb and braid until she fell asleep on his leg. How when he and Helen got married, he suddenly had no time to do anything that Helen could do instead. How her slick, shiny, and smooth haired stepmother would wrinkle down at her curls, yank a brush through her head and tell her she was ‘impossible’. 

But, she doesn’t. She looks down at her shoes and doesn’t say anything at all.

Thalia, even smaller than before, says, “Your parents weren’t very nice to you either. Were they?”

She doesn’t answer. 

She doesn’t have to. 

‘You’re such a quiet kid, Annabeth.’ 

(When Luke gets back, he and Thalia spend three hours spraying and combing and braiding until Annabeths hair isn’t stuck anymore.)

(In a few months, a satyr named Grover will take them to camp. 

Thalia will not make it across the border.)

(Annabeth will refuse to let anyone touch her hair for a year.)

Final Round: Perseus Jackson

Bet Type: Wild Card; awarded to an individual that fails to qualify through conventional procedure.

Made with gut feelings, no logic, and excruciating human defiance. 

Trust is given without measure.

Annabeth's first thought when she sees him for the first time is, “He must be the one.”  

She’s sure of it. She says it out loud. Chiron tells her to hush, and she doesn’t even care. 

He's the one. 

She's not sure how she knows. She's waited for so long, seen so many campers. Many were far more promising than he is.

That's her second thought. He's skinnier than she thought ‘the one’ would be. Skinny and pale and more gangly limb than person.  

He’s blinking up towards them but his eyes are unfocused and hazy. That's her third thought. He's fading. They’ll have to carry him. 

‘Percy’ Chiron calls him. It’s a hero’s name. 

She wonders if whoever gave it to him knew he’d be the one too.

‘He’s the one.’, she thinks again. It feels strange and tingly in her head. 

Strange, but not false. 

Hello, Percy Jackson. It's nice to finally meet you.

#SHEEEEEES BAAAACCCCKKKK! #it's been a while! i evolved and got a life and the show humbled me and took over my life. #for the percabeth induced insanity gc on twitter (love you) #percabeth #percy jackson #annabeth chase #percabeth fic #grover underwood #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo series #pjotv #pjo tv show #pjo tv series #pjo tv spoilers #luke castellan #thalia grace #frederick chase

[the-paris-of-people]

If you're in the mood for more Percabeth now that the series is over, I am writing a fic of Percy and Annabeth watching movies together after each original PJO book here and will be updating every Tuesday!

#chapter 2 is up now #percabeth #percabeth fic #fic #mine #percy jackson #pjo #annabeth chase

[anticomedygarden]

Percabeth hurt/comfort post Tartarus ptsd?

Basic I know but you can't go wrong torturing some comfort characters 😂

one of my favorite pjo tropes! so so true, thanks for the prompt. (you're my first ever prompter! bit of a landmark for me :) )

-

Staring deeply into his blue comforter like it held the secrets of the world, Annabeth didn't need to be a child of Athena to know that her boyfriend wasn't really there with her. It wasn't the first time one of them had found the other like this, and it probably wouldn't be the last.

He wasn't making noise or moving, actually not doing anything at all, which led her to believe that he wasn't having a panic attack or a flashback. Dissociation then.

After a lot of trial and error following the titan war, they'd figured out touch - especially involving water - helped ground him the best, so she didn't bother with trying to talk to him, not knowing how far gone he was yet. Instead she got some ice out of the water bottle on his nightstand, happening to glance at the few pictures she'd been able to bring for him to Camp Jupiter. Sally, Grover, Tyson, Thalia, the Stolls, Clarisse, and a few other campers smiled back at her.

If she'd known they were going to fall into Tartarus, she'd have packed a few more.

Turning away from the photos with a sigh, she sat down cross-legged on his bed and winced when the mattress bouncing got no reaction from him, so she gently picked up his arm in the hand not holding the ice and starting rubbing it up and down his tan forearm.

"Percy?" she murmured. "I'm gonna count backward from 100, okay?"

Predictably, he didn't answer, but she started her countdown anyway, studying his form for any changes. His jet black hair was falling into his down cast eyes, low enough that she couldn't see his seagreen irises. His pants were creased where his elbows rested on them, and she realized he was wearing the same thing as he was when his watch ended an hour ago. It hurt to know that he could've been like this for so long and she had no idea, but there wasn't anything she could do, not without leaving the ship vulnerable.

Then - movement. His hand twitched; she didn't dare stop, though, not wanting to risk backslide, just kept on counting and rubbing the ice up and down his arm.

A few minutes later, he pulled in a sharp breath and sagged a bit so that the only thing Annabeth could see was the top of his head. She'd lost count of how many times she'd made it to a hundred and back at this point.

"Percy? Are you with me?" He waited a bit and nodded minutely. "Can you try and breathe with me?"

She drew in an exaggerated breath slowly and let it out even slower. He didn't join her, so she tried again. This time, he managed a shaky, slow breath that almost aligned with hers.

After a few minutes passed and he seemed to be more present, she put the ice down on the nightstand, and he sagged even more, head landing on her shoulder like his strings had been cut.

She ran her fingers through his thick curls, illiciting a sigh from him. "Hey, baby."

His breath hitched, and she was afraid for a moment he'd start panicking, but she soon felt her shoulder grow wet.

"We're together," she whispered, hoping his words from so many (weeks? days?) ago would bring him some comfort.

They were still the most important words in the world to her.

At some point, his hands must have unclenched because she felt his nails softly scrape her thigh. "How long was I gone?"

"I don't know," she said honestly. "At least 15 minutes, an hour at most."

"Damn."

Sadly, he pushed himself off of her shoulder, leaving it cold and salty. "What's the last thing you remember?"

He looked off into the distance, thinking. "I remember sitting on the bed to get to ready to shower, and nothing else."

Her heart clenched as that meant he must have been gone closer to an bour. Do you have any idea what triggered you?"

"Uh...I think maybe when I looked across the hall and saw your empty bed..." He trailed off, and she nodded.

"I'll keep the door closed from now on," she promised. It wouldn't be any kind of major change since she never slept in that room anyway. The only reason it had been open was because of habit from Coach Hedge.

Now that Percy was present and they were both calmer, they started getting ready to shower, not wanting to be without the other. (Only shower. Neither of them were ready for more at the moment.) It wasn't long before they were climbing into bed together, both considerably more refreshed but exhausted from a long day on the Argo II.

It had to get better at some point. It just had to.

#percabeth #pjo #percy jackson #annabeth chase #percy jackon and the olympians #my writing #my fic #fanfic #angst #my fanfic #fluff #percabeth fanfic #percabeth fic #prompt #ficlet #ask #post house of hades #post tartarus

[percabeths-blue-cookies]

Shhh I didn’t say anything 🤫

(Also @urbanflorals my beloved emma is proof reading the fic bc half the sentences I write don’t make sense)

#it’ll be here soon I promise #percy jackson #pjo #annabeth chase #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson and the olympians #percabeth #pjo tv #rick riordan #pjo tv show #em<3 #so I showed up at your party #shhhhh #percabeth au #Percabeth fic #unreleased #Spotify