#all annabeth wishes is that she could have given him his good luck kiss
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annabeth not kissing percy before the last olympian battle not because she was fondly exasperated, but because the last time she kissed him before a battle she thought he died, he was gone from her life, and it was the scariest time she'd experienced, the thought that percy was gone forever. she couldn't give him a kiss before the battle because what if it happened again? what if this time, he didn't come back to her?
#percy jackson and the olympians#percabeth#percy jackson#annabeth chase#hc that before going to bed during the summer#and going to their separate cabins#percy always asks for a kiss “for luck?”#and annabeth laughs and kisses him goodnight#the night before he disappears she changes it up#and asks for a kiss for luck before he can#and he gives her a big silly grin#and kisses her#and in the morning she wakes up and he's gone#so during the time he's away#all annabeth wishes is that she could have given him his good luck kiss#so that maybe he'd make it back to her
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“Are you warm enough?”
this super got away from me and I did not proofread so please keep any typos you find your yourself lmao
Percy sticks two logs into the fire and takes his seat next to Annabeth, wrapping his arm around her. “Are you warm enough?”
She nudges him as she laughs. “For the millionth time, yes. I’m fine!”
“I still think you should go to bed,” he says, despite the fact that he is pulling her closer to him. He places a kiss on her cheek. “I can finish tonight’s watch by myself.”
“I’m not leaving you alone on the solstice,” she says as a shiver runs through her. She tilts her head up. “Besides, the stars are far too beautiful.”
Percy follows her gaze and smiles at the millions of speckles of light that mark the night sky. “None as beautiful as you.”
“For a man who was chosen at birth to take a sacred oath and live his life in isolation, you are quite the romantic.”
“Do you wish me less romantic?” Percy asks, his eyes tracing Annabeth’s silhouette.
Annabeth turns to look at him and lightly shakes her head. “No. I wish you exactly as you are.”
Percy smiles, but as he leans in to kiss her, the trees just in front of them begin to rustle.
He jumps to his feet and draws his sword, which had been resting at his side, and slowly walks around the fire towards the noise. He hears the sounds of Annabeth taking out her dagger behind him and takes a calming breath, reminding himself this is what he has been training for since he was twelve years old.
“Remember,” he says over his shoulder.
“No getting stabbed, I know,” Annabeth drones, and he can practically hear her rolling her eyes.
“I was going to say protect the Temple at all costs.”
“Oh,” she says. “Right.”
“But also, do not get stabbed again.”
The rustling in the trees grows louder and as Percy readies his stance, a small figure stumbles out of the forest.
They wear a brown cloak covered in multicolored patches, and it has a hood that hangs over the top of their face. A wrinkled hand rests atop a gnarled cane and a satchel is slung across their front, though from Percy’s view it looks empty.
“Hello, young man,” they say in a rickety voice. They pull back their hood and reveal the face of an old woman with kind chestnut eyes and thin brown hair that is pinned back. “Might you have some water and spare food for a weary traveler?”
Percy stares at her from a moment, a small voice in the back of his mind whispering something about her that he can’t quite make out.
“Young man?” she repeats.”
Percy shakes his head and puts his sword away, standing tall. “Of course we do. Please, miss, join us at our fire.”
She sits against a log, putting her diagonal from Annabeth who watches her skeptically while Percy goes to fetch the food and water.
“I bear no ill will, child,” the old woman says, holding her hands close to the fire.
“What brings you out into the woods all by yourself?” Annabeth asks, wrapping herself back up in the blanket.
The old woman sighs and rubs her hands together. “The solstice is a magical time. One never knows what one may find if one is only willing to look for it.”
Percy returns with a pail of spring water which he places next to the woman, and a bag full of food that he hands her. “Hopefully this is enough food to last you through your travels.”
“You are too kind, my son.”
“Not at all,” he says with a smile. “Do you have a canteen you can fill?”
The old woman sips from the ladle in the pail and shakes her head.
“I can fashion you one before you go,” Percy says. “One must always travel with water.”
“What gods do you worship that you would show an old stranger such kindness?” the woman asks as she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.
“I was wondering the same thing,” Annabeth asks pointedly, clearly suspicious of the stranger.
“I await no reward, if that’s what you���re asking,” he answers. “In this life or the next. I simply extend the kindness I would hope to be shown.”
The old woman winks at Annabeth. “You have found yourself a good man.”
Annabeth blushes despite herself. “Of the highest order.”
Percy scrunches his nose up at her before turning back to the traveler. “You may stay as long as you like, as our guest, but I must warn you this part of the woods can be quite dangerous. It may be best for you to leave as soon as you have had your fill of food and drink.”
The old woman smiles as she pulls a loaf of bread from the bag and breaks it open. She places one half to her nose and inhales deeply before tossing it right into the fire. “As long as I walk under the gaze of the moon, no mortal man may harm me.”
“What luck,” Annabeth says facetiously and Percy nudges her with his shoulder.
The woman laughs. “It is good for a woman in this world to protect herself with wit and anger. Some days, those will be the only things on her side. No one knows that quite like you, Annabeth.”
Annabeth and Percy’s bodies tense in unison, and Percy’s hand slowly moves towards the hilt of his sword.
“Didn’t you hear me?” she says, not looking up at either of them. “No mortal weapon shall harm me while I walk under the light of my sister’s moon.”
“Your… sister’s… moon?” Percy repeats slowly.
“Do not fear me, Percy. It is in my name you hold this vigil, after all,” the woman says, looking Percy in the eye.
Percy’s mind flashes back to the night of his twelfth birthday, when the priests arrived at his village to begin his training. They sat at this very fire, and when Percy looked into the flames, the same eyes he sees now were the very eyes that stared back at him then.
“Lady Hestia,” he says, his voice barely audible over the crackle of the fire.
Hestia smiles, childlike and bright as her wrinkles and the exhaustion evident in her body melt away. Her cloak remains the same, save for the multicolored patches all seem to have a golden sheen to them in the light. She sits up straight and stretches towards the sky. “I am so proud to have a champion with such a kind heart,” she says happily. “And that he has a companion as equally skeptical. Balance is so important in these matters.”
Annabeth blinks slowly as she tries to process what is happening in front of her. “I was rude… to a goddess.”
Hestia waves Annabeth’s concerns away. “I am not nearly as tempestuous as my sisters, dear girl. As I said before, I bear no ill will. In fact, I have been watching you two for quite some time.”
Percy and Annabeth look at each other, and both begin to turn red.
“Not like that,” the goddess assures them. “I mean I have been evaluating to see if you both are ready for what must be done. While I do wish there were more time, events have already begun to unfold that I’m afraid put as at a bit of a disadvantage.”
Percy looks to Hestia, then Annabeth, and back again. “Lady Hestia, I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“I bring you two a quest,” she whispers.
Annabeth’s eyes light up at the word quest and she places her hand on Percy’s knee. “What kind of quest, Lady Hestia?”
“The dangerous kind,” the goddess whispers back.
Percy shakes his head. “I took a vow, Lady Hestia.”
“One you have already broken, my child,” she says with a pointed look between the couple. “Many times over.”
Percy blushes again, closing his eyes to refocus. “I am not to leave the hallowed grounds that mark the entrance to your temple. I must not leave, in retreat or in pursuit of enemies, no matter the circumstances. I may not see my mother’s face again until my watch has ended. I must live here, with nothing but the company of the marble doors and I must never, ever enter your Temple or I will face an unimaginable punishment in the Underworld. I have trained since I was twelve and held this post since I was sixteen. Even with Annabeth here, and the life I dream of having with her, I have protected this place as I swore to do all those years ago. I have given up my life in your service, Lady Hestia, and now you would ask me to forsake all of that?”
Hestia looks at him, her expression blank. “Yes.”
“I can’t,” he says plainly.
“Percy, my priests are all dead,” she says, her eyes suddenly full of sadness. “Everyone who had a hand in training you, slaughtered by the forces that would add your body to the pile without a second thought. I do not wish that fate for you.”
Percy looks to Annabeth as panic rises in him. “You have to go,” he says.
“I’m not leaving you,” Annabeth answers. “We leave together or not at all.”
“Annabeth-”
“If you tell me one more time that you took the vow and I didn’t, I will kill you myself. I will not leave you, Lady Hestia as my witness.”
“I do not ask this lightly,” Hestia says. “But I do ask it.”
Hestia steps forward then, and places her hands on either side of Percy’s face, and his eyes flutter shut. Percy feels his face grow warm as he has visions of himself as a little boy hugging his mom, and again as a grown man. He sees himself building Annabeth a house by the sea, the one she has described to him a million times over, and in that house he sees him and Annabeth having a wedding, and children, and so much happiness he could burst. He sees them all near the sea, dancing in its waves as the sun glows above them, and he feels a peace that he has never felt before settle over him.
When he opens his eyes, he feels the tears that are running down his face.
“That is a beautiful life you have dreamed, Percy,” Hestia says. “Hearth and home are what keep us anchored in the storm of the world. You have pledged yourself to me, and even now you honor my name. But if you do not take up this task, I am afraid you will die here, also in my name, having lived a muted life. And dear hero, please hear me when I say I do not wish that for you.”
“Percy,” Annabeth says, and he feels her hand slip into his and squeeze. “Whatever you decide, I am with you.”
Percy squeezes her hand back. “Until the end?”
“In this life and the next.”
Percy turns back to the goddess and swallows hard, his hand still squeezing Annabeth’s. “Tell us what you need us to do.”
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Hiya, could I request Annabeth with confined to bed rest for Bad Things Happen Bingo? I really liked your other PJO story for this so here I am!!!
Hello Gorgeous! Once again, this took way too long and I’m not as in love with it as I was the other story, but I hope you like it!
Fandom: PJO/HoO
Request: Confined to Bed Rest
Warnings: Language
Requested by: @mythgirlimagines
(Star is complete, Swirl is requested)
@badthingshappenbingo
The giant, looking more annoyed than distressed, brought it's club down on Annabeth, hitting her squarely in the back and knocking the wind out of. She screamed in pain as the impact sent her flying several feet before she made contact with the ground below, landing on her stomach.
Gods, it hurt. Everything hurt.
Wait. That wasn't right. It should hurt.
Annabeth had been prepared for it to hurt. She felt pain, but only as far as her waist. Below her waist, there was nothing, just tingling and numbness. That was wrong. That was really wrong. Something told her that she should be scared out of her mind right now, but her brain was fuzzy and slow. v
Annabeth tried to catch her breath, it felt like she was breathing through a bendy straw. Her vision was going gray around the edges. No. No, she really didn't need to pass out right now. There was a rushing sound in her ears now and a metallic taste in her mouth--blood? She spit and saw red, definitely blood.
"Annabeth!" Percy yelled, feeling sick at the way she was splayed out on the ground, unmoving and bent in all the wrong places, like a rag doll.
Annabeth could hear someone, Percy, calling her. She wanted to go to him, but her limbs didn't want to listen to her. The gray edges of her vision were pushing inwards quickly.
Percy skidded to a halt beside Annabeth and fell to his hands and knees. His stomach flipped when he saw her up close. Blood dripped from her mouth and she was ghostly white.
Annabeth just had time to look Percy in the eye before her eyes fluttered closed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Severe spinal cord stress fracture. After what seemed like hours of MRIs and X-Rays, that was what the doctor's had come up with.
At least they'd finally taken off the stiff, plastic cervical collar.
However, the diagnosis had come with further instructions: no moving, no sitting up, no standing (which she couldn't do right now, even if she wanted to). She had also been fitted with a brace, which made sleeping, or any comfort at all for that matter, pretty impossible. She was still numb from the waist down, but the doctor had said that in the majority of spinal stress injuries, the feeling came back within three days.
The majority of cases. Annabeth rolled those words over in her mind.
Annabeth was currently laying flat in a hospital bed, staring up at the white popcorn ceiling. She decided that she hated the color white.
Footsteps tapped against the tile floor. Percy's face appeared above hers.
"Good morning!" A grin pretty much taking over his entire face, slight overkill, but the doctor had said stay positive. Percy was staying positive.
"Is it morning?" Annabeth huffed "Hadn't noticed, since I can't actually see outside." She rolled her eyes.
"It's been two days. The doctor said that it could take up to three days to regain feeling and movement." Percy pointed out, biting the inside of his lip as he forced a smile.
"If it comes back."
"It will. I pro-"
"Gods, can everyone just stop being so fucking positive all the time?" Annabeth cried. She hadn't meant to snap at Percy like that, but she was getting tired of how cheerful everyone was being, how certain they were that she was going to be fine.
"We're just trying to help." Percy said meekly, his face disappearing.
"I-" Annabeth took a moment to compose herself, "I know. I know you're doing the only thing you can right now. If the situation were reversed, I'd have the sun shining out of my ass every time I walked into this room."
"The doctor said that there's a really good chance that you regain movement. Most compression injuries don't result in permanent paralysis."
"Can we talk about something else?" Annabeth asked, her voice thick. She'd done enough crying over herself in the last two days, she wasn't about to do any more.
"Um, yeah." Percy wracked his brain for something else to talk about, relieved. "I can tell you how Leo almost blew up the Argo II, again."
"Oh gods, everything really does fall apart when I'm gone." Annabeth laughed, hurting her bruised ribs.
Percy launched into the story about Leo trying to cook lasagna. After a few minutes, they were both laughing and talking, successfully having ignored the elephant in the room.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"And then Nico sent Jules Albert after you!" Annabeth laughed, tears streaming down her face.
"Oh gods, that was terrifying." Percy shuddered, making a face. "All I did was tell him that he and Will look cute together."
"What would you have done if someone had told you we look cute together before we started dating?" Annabeth asked.
"Probably send you after them."
This was how they'd been for the last few hours, visiting time was almost over. Annabeth didn't want to be alone again. She wished she could get up and lock the door, close herself and Percy away from the world for a while.
Percy gasped.
"What?" Annabeth asked, suddenly on high alert.
"I think your foot just twitched!" Percy said excitedly. "Try again."
Annabeth was quiet, focusing all of her energy into moving her foot.
"There! It did it again!" Percy yelled, his voice and footsteps getting farther away.
A minute later, Annabeth heard footsteps approaching.
"Hello, Annabeth." The doctor's head popped into Annabeth's view. "Can you move your feet for me?"
Once again, Annabeth concentrated on moving her foot, her face scrunching up in effort. She could feel it that time, the smallest twitch of her foot.
"That's wonderful Annabeth!" The doctor exclaimed. "We'll keep monitoring you, but this is very promising."
"Does this mean I'll be able to walk again?" Annabeth asked, almost afraid of the answer.
"That's what it looks like. We'll be able to run tests in the morning and that should give us more answers. For now, you should try to get some sleep. Call the nurses if you need anything. I'll be back to check on you during rounds tomorrow morning."
The doctor's head retreated and Annabeth heard footsteps leaving the room.
Get some sleep? How was she supposed to do that now? Annabeth's brain was buzzing with excitement.
"I'm so sorry, but visiting hours are over." A man's voice said from the doorway.
"Okay." Percy huffed.
Percy's head appeared over Annabeth, wearing a real grin this time.
"I guess I have to go. Actually try to sleep, please?" Percy plead.
"No promises." Annabeth answered giddily.
"I love you." Percy kissed Annabeth.
"I love you, too." Annabeth tried to take in as much of him as possible. It would only be a few hours until morning now, but that already seemed too long. She tried not to cry when she heard his retreating footsteps.
Sleeping was definitely not going to happen. Annabeth tried her best to shift around in the back brace, but didn't have much luck. She tried counting sheep, but lost count and had to start over.
Sleeping wasn't a thing tonight, but apparently pain was. What had just been pins and needles and numbness before, became something like an itch. Annabeth's legs and feet twitched constantly, the signals to the nerves finally having reconnected. She tried to be happy about regaining feeling and movement, but it was hard when it felt like ants were crawling up and down her legs.
Knowing that she'd go insane before morning, Annabeth eventually called in a nurse and asked for a sedative and, after what seemed like forever, since the doctor had to clear any medication given, someone came in to put a syringe of something in her IV. In no time, she was finally drifting off.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Good morning, Annabeth!" The doctor announced, finally showing up for his morning rounds.
"Morning!" Annabeth called, still both in the back brace and staring at the ceiling.
"Let's see what we have today."
Annabeth felt him pull the blanket off of her foot, which was something she didn't ever think she'd be excited about, and a prick of something.
"Can you feel this?"
"Ow!" She yelped, more in surprise that pain. "Definitely."
"That's good." He hummed.
The test went on, the doctor poking various places on Annabeth's legs.
Percy's excitement grew with every little twitch.
"Well, we'll have to get some imaging done, but you have regained all sensation below the waist. If the MRI comes back good, we can set you up with a physical therapist this afternoon and start working on getting you mobile."
"That sounds amazing!" Annabeth sighed in relief as she felt Percy squeeze her hand.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After ages of waiting around, Annabeth was finally sent back for her MRI, and after even more waiting around, the doctor came in to tell her and Percy that the MRI still showed signs of a stress fracture, but it was safe to remove the brace and she would be allowed to be mobile.
Annabeth couldn't stop grinning, not even when the physical therapist came in and made her get up, her muscles, stiff from two days of not moving, protesting all the way. Everything ached, but, for once, Annabeth was glad to take the pain.
By the end of the day, Annabeth was walking slowly down the hallway. She had to use a walker, but decided that she would take anything to not be in that bed anymore.
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Gold Dust Woman part 1
pjo x mcu fusion: annabeth is iron man
crossposted on a03
It’s been twenty eight day since she was kidnapped. Annabeth would know this even if she wasn’t scratching a line into the wooden boards she called a bed every day. In situations like this, it was important to keep track of time. It keeps her from becoming disoriented, it keeps things in perspective.
Like how tomorrow the car battery that she has hooked up to her heart, that’s powering her heart, will give out, spent, and she’ll die.
Unless her miniature arc reactor works.
It has to.
Annabeth has spent countless nights awake, pouring over the math and plans. she flips through the pages and pages of sketches. Carefully combs through the numbers for any mistake, any miscalculation, until her eyes swim. In some ways its not all that different from home, where she’d spent days shut up in her lab, dreaming up new technology only to turn around and sell it to the military.
The arc reactor had been written off as a publicity stunt. An inefficient source of clean energy. A pipe dream no one had bothered chasing. Not even her when the math hadn’t worked on to make it feasible, she’d just shrugged, downed her scotch, and moved on to the next big contract.
She’d been so caught up in research and development, in making weapons, that she had lost track of things. Or maybe she didn’t want to know. Didn’t want to think about the people she’d killed. The blood on her hands.
If she’d bothered to keep track, maybe no one in her company would’ve sold things to the enemy.
If If If. She was going to drive herself crazy thinking about all the things she shouldn’ve done.
Annabeth didn’t have time for that.
Not here. She won’t die here in this godforsaken cave, not before she can put things right. Not before she can start to make amends.
She refuses to let death be her legacy.
“I’m here if you need steadier hands,” Armeen Hephaestus utters over to her from his own spot, carefully stripping down the weapons and tools they’ve been given according to her own schematics.
Every moment they waste not working on her plan is another second in which the 10 Rings might turn around and decide to kill them.
“It’s alright,” she answers, not bothering to look up. Annabeth hates relying on others, hates that she won’t be able to insert the arc reactor herself, might die unable to do anything to save herself if it fails. “Just stick to the plan.”
The words tumble out harshly in the soft light of the cave, lightbulbs flickering. The electric grid thats been rigged up is horribly inefficient, but Annabeth isn’t about to tell her captors that.
Her hands don’t shake as she places the last pieces in and waits for the flicker. For the arc reactor to power on if she’s rights about the math and she always is, this should generate more power than it consumes. It won’t be perfect.
But it’ll keep her alive and that’s good enough for now.
Annabeth sighs in relief as it flickers softly, before a steady white light comes on light. She can’t wait to see the look on Arachne’s face when Annabeth shows her what she did with their publicity stunt.
If she makes it out alive.
No. She puts the arc reactor down, turning to call over Hephaestus, she can’t think like that.
“Come on Armeen,” she tells him, “I can’t wait to stop lugging around this battery.”
It’s been twenty eight days and Annabeth wonders where Thalia is, leading the search over the vast deserts of Afghanistan.
It doesn’t really matter.
The 10 Rings was right, they’ll never find her here. There’s just to much ground to cover.
That’s fine. Annabeth’s only ever been able to rely on herself and she’ll get herself out of here and Hephaestus too.
Then she’ll make sure Chase Industries never manufactures another weapon again.
*
Six shots in, a glass of champagne in hand for the occasion and Annabeth is bubbly. Is open and friendly in the addictive way she can never manage sober. Her smile feels foreign but the man who’s wrapped his arms about her, his hand covering hers before they throw the dice and watch it hit the roulette before landing on one of their winning numbers, he’s fun and hot and she likes one night stands. They’re easy.
“Yay,” she giggles, turning to him, giving up on his name when her thoughts feel so disconnected.
“You must be my good luck charm,” he grins, looking boyishly charming as he does.
It’s such a cliche, fitting in perfectly in Vegas.
Grover rolls his eyes, clearing finding the line beyond cheesy, from his spot on her right, the rest of her bodyguards spread out around.
“Yeah,” she replies airily, downing her champagne and distantly wondering if its to late to upgrade the targeting systems on the Medusa Missiles. Her mother never acknowledged anything less then perfection. It was a trait she’d passed on to her, along with her grey eyes and height.
No, both her parents had been tall.
He kisses her, lips saturated with beer, and Annabeth mindlessly goes along, wishing men weren’t so into beer. It never tastes good. And cocktails were so much better at getting people drunk faster.
“Lets go again,” he suggests.
“I’m game,” she answers, signaling for another drink.
Annabeth doesn’t really have time for this, she’s leaving Vegas in an hour back to San Francisco. But maybe he’d like a free ride to SF?
“Annabeth,” Thalia calls out, meeting Jack’s? drunk and carefree gaze with her own steely one, the same look she gave Annabeth overtime she found her less them sober, falling over and refusing Grover’s assistance, “you missed the ceremony.”
It’s the chastising of someone who’s already given up hope of getting through, hand wrapped around a glass award.
The reason she’d come to Vegas.
“Vegas is so fun,” she replies, dismissing the man and falling into step besides Thalia, away from the gambling tables, “and yet you want me to spend my time here in a room full of corporate assholes?”
It does the trick, Thalia laughs, “so long as you make it to the plane for-,”
“I know,” she cuts off, “gosh mom there’s a reason I have a nanny!” She takes the trophy from Thalia before she can think to try and smash her head in with it, “I’m sure Katie’ll find a great place to put this were it’s not ostentatious.” Next tool the other awards.
“Pretty sure you gave up any hope of that when you built a hose overlooking the bay,” Thalia replies, her uniform looking nice and starched. She was at home in uniform more than Annabeth could hope to be in a dress, but it was Vegas and it felt right when she’d decided on the Cushnie. Now she was missing her comfortable suits. “do you have any clue how much real-estate is going for in San Fransisco these days?”
“It’s on the cliffs,” Annabeth adds with a grin at her old friend. They’d been at MIT together, back when Thalia had over-dyed black hair and ripped band t shirts, perpetually wearing sandals even in winter.
“Let me know when you want to settle down,” Thalia teases, “I’d love to be a trophy wife.”
“I thought they’d reinstated don’t ask don’t tell now with the new administration,” Annabeth wonders out loud.
Thalia nudges her side lightly, “don’t even get me started. I risk my life serving this country and this is the thanks I get back home! This is who the country votes for?”
The limo pulls up and Grover opens the door up for her, forever the gentleman.
Annabeth laughs at Thalia, “You know what they say, there’s no rest for the wicked. See you in a few.”
Tahlia shakes her head as she walks aways.
Annabeth grins and steps towards the open car door.
Before she can slide into the car and head home, a voice calls out behind her, “Ms. Chase do you have anything to say on the situation in Afghanistan.”
She looks at Glover, who helplessly shrugs, “I guess he’s hot. I don’t know. I’m only Juniper-sexual.”
Annabeth turns around, facing a rather handsome man, tall, broad shoulders and chiseled chin. It just reminds her of everything she’s not. This is the person that the military would love to deal with, not her. Not another Chase woman.
“Go for it,” she says with a grin, forcing herself no to pull down on her dress, it’s supposed to be this short. Maybe she needed a new tailor?
“Annabeth Chase, you’ve been called the Da Vinci of our times,” he starts, making her beam despite herself, she’s always a fool for flattery, “what do you have to say to that?”
“I do what I can to contribute to society, to making a better world.” It’s one of those vague statements her PR handlers had drilled into her. Harmless regardless of any context.
“What about your other nickname? The Merchant of Death? What do you have to say to that,” there’s teeth to his smile this time, a crusader then. Another reporter out to change the world.
“Let me guess, Berkeley ,” she says in lieu of an answer, the school was infamous for their many protests.
“Boston U actually.”
Annabeth nods. “Well, it’s an imperfect world we live in. I guarantee the day weapons are no longer needed to defend this country and it’s peoples freedoms I’ll start making bricks and solar panels.” She pauses, crossing her arms in front of her. This was the thing about dresses, where was she supposed to stuff her hands into? “My mother used to say that peace was having a bigger stick than the other side,” Annabeth says with a shrug. Athena had never spoken those words to her, but she’d parroted them often enough to the press. “And isn’t peace what we all want?”
He grins like he’s in on the joke, only highlighting how handsome he is, dark skin and even darker eyes, “interesting words coming from the woman selling the sticks.”
Even she grins at this, genuine for the first time all night. “What’s you name?”
“Isaiah, Isaiah Levey from Vanity Fair magazine.”
“Well Isaiah,” Annabeth replies, liking the way his name sounds on her lips, liking the look of him even more, “My mother helped defeat the nazis, she worked on the Manhattan project, she developed technology that propelled us into space and is now used in computers and phones. A lot of people, including your professors at Boston, would call that being a hero.”
Isaiah fires back, “A lot of people would also call that war profiteering.”
Annabeth’s lips draw thin, as the alcohol that’s kept her buzzed for the last hour wears off, “Tell me, do you plan on including the countless lives we’ve save through advancements in medical care and agricrops? All those breakthroughs,” she says pointedly, “military funding.”
“Wow,” he says shaking his head, “you ever lose an hour of sleep your whole life?”
And just like the fuckboys Katie always complains about, like she didn't somehow incorporate flannel into all of her outfits, she utters, “I’m prepared to lose a few with you.”
She might be off-putting at the best of times, and not half as beautiful as the wives of her fellow billionaires, but confidence could more than make of for those shortcomings.
Isaiah shrugs helplessly, grin on his lips, and he slides into the limo with her.
*
It’s been seventy nine days since she’d watched a humvee blow up. It was a lot nastier up close then in testing facilities out in Nevada, where distance made the explosion look beautiful.
Before she could register that they were under attack, before she could react and put her drink down or maybe finish it off and hope it was just a nightmare, the solider in the front. . .R-something. . .Reyes?. . .maybe it was Ramirez? Was telling her to get down, the words barely leaving her mouth before a gunshot splattered her brains reminiscent of a Pollock, body falling over like a puppet that had its strings cut.
Annabeth had looked around stupidly. She didn’t know what to do. More gunshots. More blood.
There had been smoke and dust and she couldn’t see anything, couldn’t even see her enemy until she heard the gunshots, seconds before they made contact, ripping through the Humvee like it was made of cardboard.
She crawls out, dodging behind the nearest rock, in too much shock. Her hand goes reflexively to her necklace, thumbing over the beads. More gunshots. There’s no way to know where to go. Who’s her enemy and where she should run too so she just stays hurled behind the rocks.
Annabeth wants to slap herself, throat choked on a scream. Everyone likes to believe they’d react the right way in a fight or flight situation but theres no right way and oh my god she’s going to die.
Then there was the missile, landing just close enough for her to make out the logo, the same logo she’d learned to recognize when she was still learning to write, Chase Industries and then the explosion and then nothing.
It’s night.
And the 10 rings members are suddenly filing in, guns locked and loaded.
Annabeth knows its night because the shifts changed. Even with their rotating shifts and change in partners, she’d quickly memorized their faces. Besides, at night, they yawn more.
They yell in their various languages, strutting around and throwing their weight before a bald man clicks his fingers, his face hard, with a glee in his eyes that speaks to a sadistic nature.
They grab for Armeen, dragging him before the bald man, knocking him to his knees.
The bald man must be the leader. Head held high, back straight as though he’s looking down at everyone. He can’t be much taller than her.
Annabeth might be tall for a woman, but she’s only average in comparison to most men and Hephaestus is taller than most. He’s also lanky, hands rough from hard labour. Not a handsome man with his large nose and small chin, eyes lost behind thick glasses.
He’s her friend and when they bring a hot iron rod to his mouth she finds herself yelling, “NO,” moving forward against her better judgement.
All the guns in the room point at her.
She blinks, realizing that no matter how valuable she is, how rich she is, how smart she is, they won’t hesitate to shoot. Their patience has worn through.
“I need him,” she utters, her protest sounding weak to her own ears, “he’s a good assistant.” She won’t have anymore blood on her hands. He has a wife and kids back home.
Annabeth only has Thalia. People she pays probably don’t count. Grover and Katie’ve no doubt found a new job.
She would’ve.
Then again, there’s a reason everyone’s always found her cold.
“You have twenty four hours to give me a Medusa Missile or I’ll shoot you both,” the bald man spits, “I don’t care who you are you bitch!”
She doesn’t wince anymore. The words cold bitch have long trailed after her.
The man kicks Hephaestus aside, before turning to leave.
Then their gone.
A look at him and they both know they’re in for a long night if her plan’s going to work, if they’re going to escape.
*
Annabeth wakes up at six in the morning on the dot the same way she has every day since boarding school.
Isaiah is still sleeping when she slips out of her room and down her lab.
Katie’ll take care of him later.
Katie’ll also let her know when it’s time to go, the only person aside from herself who knows the password down to her lab, her heels click on the glass steps.
“You are supposed to be halfway around the world,” she utters already scrolling through her ChasePad, a prototype of the latest version that was still in development, her tone leaving no room for argument.
“How’d she take it,” Annabeth says, pivoting while she looks over her latest engine, finding that the Lamborgini, no matter how nice it looked, handled like shit.
“Like a champ,” Katie replies.
“Why’re you trying to kick me out of my own house,” Annabeth asks, shifting her weight onto her other leg before it can fall asleep, the last few screws falling into places. At first it was just a matter of replacing the wheels and suspension, but once she looked under the hood, Annabeth knew she could do better.
“Your flight was scheduled to leave an hour and a half ago,” Katie says curtly. Grover must have told her how much she drank last night.
“You know, I do know my limit,” she responds, “and it’s my plane so shouldn’t it take off whenever I want it to?” She’s being ridiculous, Annabeth knows this, but. . .she doesn’t know.
She won’t see Katie for a three days. It’s not long in the grand scheme of things. . .
Katie ignores her, barreling on, “Social drinking is a stepping stone to alcoholism and I need to speak to you about a couple things, before I send you on your way.”
“I mean whats the point of a private plane if I’m still subjected to boarding times.” Grover had told her once about commercial flights and Annabeth had felt something inside her wither and die. It probably came with never having to deal with anything money couldn’t fix.
Maybe she should get out more, talk to people other than her employees and those with a vested interest in her company.
“Xiao called, she has another Jackson Pollock lined up for the auction, do you want it? Yes or no.” Annabeth couldn’t see any point to splatter paint, there was no technique or point really. She much preferred the carefully rated indian and egyptian art pieces. There was the greek technical prowess in sculpture and paintings, coming the closest to lifelike. But her dad had lover abstract art and modern art.
So, “yes,” she answers, turning around and gladly downing the last of her cup of water. Her head was still pounding even after the two pills she’d taken this morning. Hangovers were the thing that would knock down any impending alcoholism Katie kept nagging her about.
“It’s overpriced,” Katie informs her, “and not a great representation of his later renowned work.”
“I said yes Katie,” she sighs, hearing the snap in her own voice, scrambling to add, “it’ll be like those parents who hang up all their kids drawing from preschool.” Her mother had never done that, waving annabeth away until she’d come back with her first circuit board, lines deep around her mouth as she’d frowned and told her the how inefficient it was.
Katie smiles, “Okay. The MIT commencement-,”
“Is in June,” annabeth says walking up to the main floor, “nice try.”
“Well if I have to hear it then you have to hear it,” Katie teases, easily, the clack of heels on concrete a tell tale sign that she’s following close behind.
“Didn’t I hire you to hear it so I don’t have to,” Annabeth snipes back, knowing Katie won’t take it the wrong way. They’ve been working together for to long.
“I’ll take that as a yes and I need you to sign this,” she says offering up a long and complicated paper with fine print as they reach the main living room, her duffle bag and carry on already prepared for her.
“Wow you’re really trying to get rid of me. Why?” It’s blunt, the way Annabeth has learned to be in the corporate world and military world where old men will look down on her and call her girl.
“I have plans.”
Annabeth makes a face, “I don’t like it when you have plans.”
Katie rolls her eyes, “first of all that’s why we have unions and workers rights and secondly I’m allowed to have plans on my birthday.”
Annabeth winces. She’d forgotten. She relied so much on Katie to remind her of all her appointments and meeting, and she could hardly tell Katie to reminder of her birthday. “Is it? This weekend?” It must be November then.
That explained all the christmas decorations that had been up in Vegas.
“Yes,” Katie responds, smothering a laugh, “isn’t that strange? It’s the same day as last year.”
“Well, buy yourself something nice from me.” Annabeth never knew what people wanted and it just didn’t seem practical to guess. That’s how people ended up with something useless, that they didn’t want, and then had to figure out what to do with; regift it, throw it aways, or have ti sit in the back of your closet.
“I already did.”
“Is it a new and exotic species of plant,” She asks knowingly. Katie had a way with plants, managing to keep even orchids alive.
“Thank you,” Katie says with a soft smile, before thrusting Annabeth’s luggage at her and pushing her out the door where Grover awaits with the ferrari, one designed by the great Nikki Lauda, the splashiest thing her father ever owned. It had only needed minor adjustments.
Annabeth laughs and helps Grover throw her luggage in.
*
The suit works, she flies for a full fifteen seconds before crashing, just long enough to escape the fireball of explosions she leaves behind.
Along with Hephaestus.
Dead.
Another death on her hands.
Even in February, the deserts of Afghanistan are scorching hot, dry, her eyes are strained after spending almost three months in darkness, only broken by weak lighting.
In comparison the sun a entirely too bright, too much.
Her throat arched, a strip of fabric wrapped around her head as a makeshift hat, keeping some of the sun off her.
The sun keeps her going, orients her because the sun always east and sets in the west, no matter what part of the world she’s in, ignoring how everywhere she looks out to looks the same. Sand, and more fucking sand.
It’s been eighty days since she was kidnapped.
they must still be searching for her. Thalia wouldn’t abandon her. Besides she’d Annabeth Chase, billionaire wonderkid, child of the late great Athena Chase.
But the fear of wondering forever, until she collapses and dies nags at her.
There’s just so much sand.
Vast planes spreading out beyond her as she leaves the mountains at her back.
What are the chances of-Thalia. . .
. . .Thalia finding her. . .
She hears the sounds first, the beautiful roaring of army craft, too steady too be of any make other than the united states government.
It’s the most wonderful sound she’s ever heard.
Her hands spread out, waving over. . .
Holy shit! Holy fucking shit!
It worked!
Something in her chest loosens, a weight, the panic that’s been kept at bay by adrenalin, by need and focus, hummingbird panic that makes her arc reactor flicker in the bright daylight of the desert, worlds away from the gloomy rain of San Fransisco in the winter.
She can breath now.
She’s alive.
Alive.
A live.
It feels like something that belongs to someone else. The drinks and parties and work and billions in the bank.
That can’t be. . .her.
The image of her own missile landing right in front of her forever seared into the backs of her eyelids.
Thalia walks down and out of the aircraft, soldiers fanning out with heavy automatic arms pointed out into the desert plains.
Annabeth can breath now. She smiles, falling into Thalia’s arms, into her embrace. She’s never been more glad to see Thalia’s dark blue eyes, almost black in some light.
“How was the fun-vee?”
“Shut the fuck up,” Annabeth hears herself say and then she’s gone. Exhausted down to her bones. The weight of running for months on adrenalin finally catching up to her and she blacks out, sliding into R.E.M. sleep for the first time since SF.
Later Thalia’ll tell her she was debriefed and gave coherent answers before downing some crackers and a coke, getting a quick medical checkup, before they let her sleep.
She doesn’t remember a thing after she see’s Thalia. Her very own godly apparition.
#percy jackon and the olympians#percy jackson#annabeth chase#katie gardner#grover underwood#thalia grace#connor stoll#travis stoll#mine#pls validate me and my last weeks work
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percabeth soulmate au
AN: hey guys first post thought i’d jump right in with a fic cause i’ve been reading soulmate aus non stop and i wanted to try. this was so fun and if anybody has something they want me to write let me know
prompt: somewhere on your body is your soulmate’s full name.
Percy had never truly been able to hide it. Sure, it was easy enough when it was cold, just throw on like 20 layers, problem solved. Summer, however, presented its own issues. Usually, he could get away with long sleeves, pushed up to his elbows. It was his thing, he found it comfortable. His tiny little apartment he shared with his mom and Paul didn’t have air conditioning, though, so wearing long sleeves some days felt like living in the ninth circle of hell. Swimming teams often required nothing but a speedo, which made it difficult for anyone to hide unless your soulmark was in quite an unfortunate place.
It wasn’t something he really wanted to hide either; he just always had, finding it easier when nobody asked questions. Do you know your soulmate? A question that truly haunted him. No, no he didn’t. He wished he did, he’d give anything, but he didn’t. He knew many people who waltzed around, soulmark loud and proud on their shoulder, wrist, behind their ear. For most people, that worked out. His cousin Jason had ordered a coffee at a little cafe down the street from their high school just last week, and the cute barista had written his full name, while he had only given his first. She’d seen the soulmark and recognized her name written in glossy gold on the back of his hand.
He supposed in the grand scheme of things, Percy was quite lucky. One boy in his gym class had admitted he couldn’t read his soulmark, saying he thought his soulmate lived in Russia or Sweden or China- he didn’t know, but he couldn’t even pronounce the name. Sympathetic glances were the best Percy could give the poor kid, not knowing how else to respond.He found his hand drifting towards his own soulmark more than it should have that day, deep in thought. She may be hard to find, but at least she was somewhere that spoke English.
Now, sat in his bedroom, he felt his fingers drift up again, feeling the pristine lettering. He could barely feel the difference between the writing and his actual skin by now. Percy had always found it a little too smooth, though, a little bit too perfect. Starting about halfway across the outside of his bicep, ending a little above his elbow, lay the name he’d had memorized as soon as his toddler brain could tell what it said. Annabeth Chase, glimmering gold glinting in the sunshine from his window.
He couldn’t help but wonder about her. Who was Annabeth? Sure, she was obviously perfect for Percy, but what did that mean? His cousins had invented a game when they were little, they’d guess about each other’s soulmates. Nico, the youngest, had been everyone’s favourite to think about. Will Solace, whoever he was, had quite the shoes to fill. Thalia had always thought he’d be a bad boy, saying the name had ‘that kind of ring too it.’ They had been way, way off for Thalia’s little brother, Jason though. Everyone besides Jason had decided from a young age that Piper McLean would be strong, independent, stone cold, just like everyone thought he was. Black hair, brown eyes, proud posture. One coffee trip later and they met a funny, brown-haired girl with Jason Grace on the side of her right index finger.
They all had different opinions on who Percy’s soulmate would be, but he never actually listened. Who did he think Annabeth would be? Someone who liked cuddling, definitely. A pretty laugh, one that sounded like a bell, and a nice smile. Maybe brown hair, he didn’t know. Caramel coloured, maybe a little bit darker, but he didn’t care. Hopefully, someone that liked all the same stuff as him, too. He would love her anyway. They were soulmates, after all. Annabeth would have to be able to keep him on his toes; that was something he was sure of.
It was lonely now, as he curled into his blanket and tried to shut his brain off. Just one nap, one hour, and then he’d be good to go. Swimming practice started in an hour and a half, and he had stayed up again, practically depressed waiting for his soulmate to fall madly in love with him. Most of his friends these days just showed up glowing and he could tell they’d met the one. He was happy for them, of course, he was, but it sucked. First, Travis met Katie in 10th grade and that started the snowball, and then it just kept on going and going and then Jason met Piper and Percy’s unrealistic sorrow kept growing.
“If you’d just tell me the name, I bet I could find them, and I’d set you guys up, and you’d name the first born after me.” Over the few weeks Percy had known her, Piper became one of his best friends. Only problem; severe meddler. Like, seriously, this girl could not mind her business. Not that it was such a bad thing all the time (she’s set up like 4 pairs of soulmates so far), but Percy quite liked having his privacy.
“I’ll pass, Pipes.” He chuckled, shaking his head. It was so far into the school year, he didn’t even look as he put in his locker combination. It turns out, Piper McLean had been under all of their noses for quite a while. Two whole years, in fact. Piper was a sophomore at Goode, and Percy and Jason were Juniors. Despite being a year younger, she fit right into the friend group.
Piper let out a deep sigh. She surely could tell that Percy was upset over all the soulmate business, and he knew she wanted to help. He appreciated it, really, he did, but he just didn’t want help on this. Those stupid chick flicks he’d watched with some of his girl friends - not girlfriends, though, as he was a firm soulmate believer- had tricked him into having some weird perfect meeting. You know, where they’d see each other across the party or some bar their separate friends had dragged them too and they’d be the only two people in the world? And the lights would all go dark and the crowd would clear a near-perfect path, and then they’d kiss and live happily for a while, and then fight but kiss in the rain and ride off into the sunset and-- okay, he definitely needed to quit it with the rom coms.
Or worse, imagine finally letting her help, and she couldn’t? The girl who knows everything and everyone, not knowing Percy’s soulmate? Absolutely heartbreaking, and totally a possibility. He’d tried to find her, too. He’d googled Annabeth Chase multiple times, and every time just coming up with the name of a doctor or some stupid website. Once, in third grade, he’d come up with a presentation on the water cycle that could’ve been by his Annabeth, but there was no way to know. Shutting his locker and walking away, he smiled at Piper. Percy could see the sadness, the sympathy, in her eyes, and he wanted her to know he was fine. He was always fine, and he always would be. She smiled back, clearly not satisfied but she could tell she wouldn’t be getting a real answer. The big group was crowded around Thalia’s locker. She was a senior now, which Percy thought was crazy. It seemed like yesterday when she sat crossed legged on her bed, telling him, Jason, and Nico what a soulmate was. Her pigtails weren’t even that day, and you could see he tongue poke through the gap where her front tooth should have been.
Thalia’s soulmark had turned black last year. Soulmarks turning black never had a true meaning. It could mean they didn’t believe in soulmates, they were in a serious relationship, they were deadly sick, had amnesia, couldn’t read it anymore, somehow got rid of their soulmark, or worst of all, dead. None of the options were good. Thalia had driven up to Percy’s house that day and they’d watched stupid chick flicks ‘til she was all cried out. Which was weird, because Thalia Grace hadn’t cried since Bobby Henderson cut her hair off in preschool. Now, though, she said it didn’t bother her. It didn’t mean she’d never find love. People were born without soulmates all the time, she’d love one of them. Percy could tell she was hurting, though, cause nobody else would ever be Luke Castellan, whoever that was.
Nico appeared in a frenzy. His long dark hair was totally awry, and his backpack hit the floor so he could catch his breath. He was smiling like crazy, just going nuts, and Percy knew right then, it happened. Will Solace, Nico’s personal prince charming had appeared, ready to sweep him off his feet. Everyone knew, everyone smiled, and as Piper was about to ask what he was like, Nico held out his hand and cut her off.
“Frank, I met her.” This shocked Percy. To his knowledge, nobody had ever seen Frank’s soulmark. He kept it a secret, more so than Percy did. “Hazel Levesque, right? She’s a freshman, her locker’s next to mine.” Frank lit up, and the two of them raced down the hallway, joy written on their faces. The group clapped and whistled as he followed Nico. He met Hazel at lunch that day, and she was perfect for Frank. Absolutely adorable, a total sweetheart. Her soulmark sat on her wrist, so it was no wonder Nico had seen it.
All he needed was a suit that actually fit him. His mom’s wedding with Paul was in a week, and he just needed to look presentable. His dad had been his mom’s soulmate, but he got lost at sea when Percy was 3. Sally’s soulmark had turned black a long time ago, and he was happy she was in love again. Paul had been born without a soulmate, which is really tough luck, but he made Sally happy and that was good enough.
Some tailor shop in the mall. He was bringing Jason and Piper to keep him company as he awkwardly got measured. One, single hope he had was that this was a girl tailor. Actually, did he want a girl tailor? Would that be worse? He had no idea, but he wasn’t looking forward to it.
In hindsight, he shouldn’t have brought Piper with him. Maybe Nico or Thalia, or someone who had already seen the soulmark. Anyways, Jason and Piper sat on chair as Percy got measured basically everywhere. The girl taking his measurements was quite pretty, really. Elegant. She introduced herself as Calypso. She was sweet. It was a lot less awkward having a tailor who was actually friendly.
And then his shirt came off, and Piper sat up straight. Trying desperately to read the name (see? Meddler.), but totally failing. Percy almost had half a mind to be smug about it, and then he remembered he was half naked and his confidence drained. He could always keep it out of her sight, because she was on the other side of the room and Calypso- bless her- blocked the name in the reflection. At one point, Percy thought she was doing it on purpose, and he wanted to thank her, but didn’t. Piper left moping about how unsuccessful her attempt had been and he smirked the whole way home.
The wedding came before he knew it, and he was walking his mom down the aisle to give her away. It was crazy. Percy teared up a bit during the vows, and Jason clapped him on the shoulder. When it was time for them to kiss, both of them whistled. Percy kind of wanted to yell ‘get a room,’ but Nico talked him out of it. Before he knew it, it was over, and his mom was not Sally Jackson, she was Sally Blofis. Piper, Jason, Thalia, and Nico crowded into the cab back to Percy’s apartment, ‘cause he didn’t want to be alone now that his mom was on a honey moon.
The navy suit had done him well, and everyone could agree. He looked good. A couple girls had offered him their numbers, but he turned them all down. Annabeth was out there somewhere, and Percy couldn’t wait. He was so lonely, especially at a wedding, it was unbelievable. Thalia had alternated dancing with him and Nico and man, it was sad.
“Percy, do you have 5 bucks? I lost a bet!” Nico called through the small apartment. Percy had lost the suit hours ago, chucking the coat on the rack and everything else in a pile on his desk chair. He was cooking now, in pajama shirts as everyone else watched a movie on his couch. “Check my coat!” He yelled back, repeating himself when he was met with a loud ‘WHAT?’ He shook his head; those guys were practically blowing out their eardrums in there, the TV was so loud. People crowded around him for literally no reason a few minutes later. Agitated, he turned. Nico was holding a small, white piece of paper in his hand, smirk on his face.
“Who’s Calypso?” He asked. He waved the paper in front of Percy’s face. Written on it in black ink was:
043-08543. ;) -Calypso
Percy snatched the paper from his hand as quick as he could. “Uh, she was my tailor,” he answered, confused. “Where did you get this?” “Your coat pocket.” Nico shrugged. “She must have slipped it to you during the appointment.”
“Yeah,” Percy scratched the back of his neck. “Must’ve.”
“Are you gonna text her?” Thalia asked, leaning over the counter to snatch a piece of food off Percy’s plate. He shook his head. No, he couldn’t do that. Annabeth was out there, waiting for him.
“Oh, come on! You might not meet your soulmate for twenty years! Have a little fun. Text her, and if you aren’t comfortable with it then, block her. Easy peasy!” She said, grabbing another piece. Percy yanked the plate away and put it behind him, where Jason and Piper ate half of it in, like, 4 seconds. He groaned and threw the plate on the table where they all scrambled to finish it.
He couldn’t do that to Annabeth. She would love him in the future. Hopefully. They’d wake up on Sundays together and he’d make her breakfast, and they’d watch TV in their pajamas. He’d take her to dinner with his mom and Paul and it’d be awesome. She’d run her fingers through his hair and he’d tug on hers, and if it was long enough maybe he’d learn to braid it.
But at the same time, Thalia was right, and he knew it. Annabeth could be living in Scotland for all he knew, and he might never even meet her. But Annabeth was going to be the love of his life. He was torn.
“Alright, I’ll do it.” Thalia, Jason, and Nico cheered, but Piper shook her head. At her disapproving glance, he clarified “but it’ll only be as friends.”
“Ugh, boo,” Thalia whined as she flicked food at Percy’s head. He made sure to mess up her hair as he reached and grabbed the paper from Nico.
His hands were shaking. It was dumb, totally stupid. Why was he nervous? This girl had seen him mostly naked before, and this was for friends anyway, right? Right? He totally wasn’t nervous. Not at all. Definitely not. This wasn’t Annabeth. He typed in the phone number, face heating up as he realized everyone was watching him.
To 043-08543 ____ hey it’s percy
____
He hit send and high-fived his cousins on the way past. He threw his phone onto the recliner in the living room as he entered. He refused to freak out and wait for a reply from a girl who wasn’t his soulmate. He just wouldn’t.
Hours past, Disney movies had been marathoned, and Thalia picked up Percy’s phone.
“You got an answer!” She called excitedly. His head snapped up. “I didn’t open it, relax,” She said as she tossed him the phone. He caught it.
From 043-08543 ____ Jackson? This is Annabeth Chase, how’d you get this number? ____
And he was laughing and smiling. The world was brighter now, he was sure of it.
“Look, look!” He called, no doubt looking like an idiot.
Annabeth was amazing. Worth every single second of the wait.
Percy had always pictured brown hair on Annabeth. Caramel, maybe a little darker. And now she was blond. Annabeth was a blonde with perfect princess curls that he loved to tug on. Her eyes were grey, and they were so unique. Storm clouds went through that girl’s brain, he was sure of it.
Annabeth raked her fingers through Percy’s hair, and he leaned into her touch. His bed wasn’t lonely anymore. She liked to touch her name written in gold, along part of his bicep. Percy didn’t hide it anymore, and it felt liberating. His name was in smooth gold letters on the back of her neck. He kissed it sometimes, and it made her shiver.
After Percy got that text, they’d agreed to meet up for coffee. Right then, he knew that soulmates were worth it. She’d admitted a few days into their relationship that she hadn’t always believed in soulmates (“I’m a child of divorce,” she’d said. “You can’t blame me.”) but Percy was the best thing that had ever happened to her. It hurt him at first, but the first kiss came, and then they were officially dating, and he stopped caring.
He understood now. Everything seemed to make sense. All the bragging everyone did that had driven him crazy when he was perpetually single was starting to become a habit for him. What? He couldn’t help it; she was perfect.
Reality crashed back and Annabeth was pulling him towards her, connecting their lips. Her lips were really soft, he always noticed. Every time they connected, it made something in Percy go absolutely nuts. Like every ounce of his being was telling him ‘This is perfect, do not screw it up.’ And fireworks or whatever were cliché as hell, but Percy was definitely starting to catch on.
#percabeth#percabeth soulmate au#soulmate au#pjo#hoo#percabeth fic#percabeth oneshot#percy jackson#annabeth chase#jason grace#piper mclean
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Man Buns, Hipster Glasses and Tweed || Annabeth and Percy
Annabeth and Percy indulge in some activism before the raid on the Open Hearth.
Percy looked out across the sea of mostly familiar faces. He had been the one who had brought Alex and Hailey Pritchard to Camp Half Blood with Annabeth after empousai had killed their satyr protector. He had been the one to convince Will Solace to go to medical school here. This place held the best memories of his life and he wasn’t about to give it up. But possibly the best thing was that he wasn’t in charge of any of it. For the first time in a long time he was just part of the team. As he held up a cardboard sign that read a very quippy line about Greek Pride, he couldn’t help but beam with pride. Activism was something that he’d always been interested in, but now he was actually working towards a goal that actually mattered. “Blossom has done a good job with this,” he said as he slipped his fingers in between Annabeth’s and held her hand, pressing a kiss to her cheek as they all waited for the march to begin, “I know the situation is far from ideal, but at least we made it here, at least we are doing something and we can show everyone that this is a serious movement. We are here to stay.” There was so much more that he was there for, he was here to protect the family he didn’t have yet. He was here because New Rome was his home and had been for several years now.
At first, Annabeth hadn’t hesitated when she’d heard of the march exhibiting Greek Pride. It didn’t seem a question as to whether or not she would be one to stand up for herself and her fellow Greeks. But later thought had gotten her thinking that perhaps they were only instigating things further. Were they only widening the divide by doing this? Doing more harm than good? But the she’d caught sight of Percy’s smile and known they were right to march. If they didn’t stand up and say that they were here to stay, things would most certainly become worse. The Romans would most likely think the Greeks were perfectly alright with being rolled over, and having their places of business vandalized. “I think we’ve got a regular Susan B. Anthony on our hands. The B obviously stands for Blossom.” So here she was with an equally snappy sign and a smile as Percy placed a kiss on her cheek with the warmth of his hand in her’s. She had used her full array of colored markers and favorite ruler to make sure their signs looked impeccable. “We are here to stay.” She couldn’t help but think of the implication of the words, the notion that it could include her and Percy leading a life here in New Rome for many years to come...together. “I have to say, Percy. Activism is a decent look for you.” She was quite proud of the showing up they had done today.
Smirking gently, Percy had to admit that this was a lot more fun than he had thought that it would be. Blossom’s idea was brilliant really, by raising money for the Senate House they demonstrated that they were not only dedicated to the regeneration of New Rome, but that they were also more than willing to do what was necessary to secure their place in the city. He just hoped that the Romans and the Greeks would be able to work together. They had gone through so much in the last couple of years and he couldn’t imagine what they would do if they were lose all of that now. “Of course we are,” he replied with a smile. As the march set off, Percy followed the current of people that was winding its way away from the forum and towards the eastern district. Percy knew the way well, their apartment was in the eastern district. It was cheaper, mainly because it was an area populated by students and greek members of the community. He loved it here. “I think that you look much better as an activist,” he replied with a bright laugh and a gentle smile, brushing his hair out of his eyes, his smile slid into a smirk. “You just need some cute nerdy glasses, little round turtle shell rimmed ones, and then we’d have a perfect little prissy activist. But let’s not mention the years of military training.”
There was no one Annabeth smiled as much around as she did with Percy. Already he had garnered many a grin from her with his dorky jokes and flirty lines, and his latest one was no exception as a chuckle fell from her lips. “Cute nerdy glasses? Are you saying I could use improvement?” She narrowed her eyes at him, as if challenging him to say yes. The word prissy wasn’t particularly offensive to her as he said. “If you’re using prissy as another word for knowing what you want and being able to take it. Then I accept this.” If prissy was the word that came to mind when he was speaking of a badass girl who fought for her right to stay, she would take it gladly. “What? Is this some new sexual fantasy of your’s? A prissy activist?” She gave him a once over, as if judging his get-up. “And what about you? I can’t be the only one needing a makeover. Where are you thick-rimmed oversized glasses? You’re locally sourced tweed trousers? Not to mention your man-bun.” She tutted her tongue at him. “And you call yourself an activist.”
Raising an eyebrow gently at her reply Percy couldn’t help the smirk that crossed his face in reply to Annabeth’s comments, he knew that she was joking and that was what made their relationship so perfect. But her laugh was so beautiful that he couldn’t ignore it at a moment like this. “Everyone could use a little bit of improvement, but for you, it is only that you don’t quite have perfect eyesight…” he trailed off for a second before relenting, “I’m joking.” He gave her a warm smile and shrugged. “Well, I’m a very sexually liberated man, I may not have the locally sourced tweed and I may be missing a septum piercing and several anarchist tattoos, and I’ve not read the communist manifesto, but I like to think that I am at least allowed to want to see you in nothing but reading glasses and pigtails…” he gave her another signature lopsided smile. He must have given it to her a hundred times today, but he couldn’t help it. The march was winding it’s way through New Rome and Percy was thoroughly enjoying himself. “Although, I’ll admit that I am enjoying activism, I think it looks good on us.”
Annabeth rolled her eyes at her boyfriend, which was probably the second most popular reaction he drew from her after smiling, of course— though sometimes they went hand in hand as they were doing now. “I know you’re joking Seaweed Brain,” she paused to raise her sign higher over her head. “I have perfect eyesight. Just like I have perfect everything.” Percy was the one person she would say most anything around, and still feel comfortable. There was rarely a time when she had to think twice about her words when around him. Such was a by-product of knowing one another for so long...as well as being extremely comfortably in love. “Reading glasses and pigtails?” She raised an inquisitive eyebrow at him. “Well maybe if you play your cards right…” her words and tone trailed off suggestively. As they rounded another bend of the streets of New Rome, there came a show of anti-protestors, holding signs that were calling for Greeks to either learn their place or go home and other similar messages. Pursing her lips, she turned away from the offensive signs, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of seeing the bubbling irritation in her stormy gray eyes. “I don’t understand what threat they think we are or whatever,” she said under her breath to Percy.
Percy smirked gently as Annabeth said that she had perfect everything, it wasn’t that it was funny it was just that it was true. “Well I’ve seen you naked well practically on a daily basis at this point so I can more than agree that you have perfect everything,” he said with a bright laugh as he kept marching, “that is why I am so very lucky to have you.” He shifted his sign so that the front was facing the back and the back was facing the front and went back to marching as he did his very best not to think about what Annabeth had been suggesting. That would have to wait till later tonight. The march for the first time hit protests against it and Percy found himself wondering the exact same thing as Annabeth. “I can’t say that I particularly understand it if I’m honest with you. All the money that we are raising is to help them so why do they want us out so badly?” It was a hard feeling, being rejected by the one place that you wanted to accept you. He had struggled with friends growing up but nothing on this scale, it felt like a whole community was against them.
Annabeth laughed along with Percy for another moment before shifting her sign to get a better grip on it. Part of her was wondering what they’d be doing with the signs once the march was completed. If they were to throw them away, she wasn’t entirely sure how easily she’d part with them. Even though they were a much simpler project, they were a project nonetheless. Though Annabeth was generally notoriously organized...that didn’t mean she didn’t have a slight hoarding problem. “You’re right about you being lucky.” Percy would know she was teasing...even if her rather healthy ego saw some truth in her words. Suddenly being rejected by the Romans also had Annabeth somewhat anxious in addition to being annoyed. Though it seemed a rather impossible though, if the Romans did somehow get rid of the Greeks as they seemed to wish to do...where would she and Percy go? She knew they’d be welcomed back to Camp Half-Blood to an extent, but what about as they continued to age? New Rome was the only place demigods could actually lead entirely safe lives. “Exactly! And who knows how much longer the fire might have gone on if the Greeks hadn’t been there to help. The Romans did a lot of work but- it would have taken them even longer to douse the flames if we hadn’t been there.”
Shrugging gently to her, Percy wondered how much luck he had had when he’d been trying to save the world every other month. “I’ve always been lucky I guess,” he replied, “especially since you’re still here, my luck obviously hasn’t run out yet.” The whole problem was a lack of understanding a general ignorance that made him worry. What would they do if what they feared came to pass, their were humanitarian laws to stop mortals from doing things like this but who would police the demigod community if something were to happen. So far the Gods hadn’t gotten involved and Percy expected that they wouldn’t want any part in this. “They don’t seem to realise that we are here to help them out, they just all seem so afraid that we have a hidden motive and agenda.” He bit his lip and sighed as they approached the Open Hearth. “We have to prove them wrong.”
“Stop that,” Annabeth told Percy as he continued to agree with her, shoving him lightly though her smile persisted. “I might start to think you like me.” As they continued to march, they passed the rather impressive and splendid skyline of New Rome. Camp Half-Blood had been the first place she had felt most comfortable to call home, and was most certainly where her heart would always lie— apart from with Percy, but New Rome had also become her home. It wasn’t simply her newest home being placed into jeopardy, but their future as well. And if the Romans thought they could take such a thing from her and her friends, they were sorely mistaken. “We will prove them wrong. We’ve got nothing to hide. And we know that Reyna and Frank don’t want the Greeks gone, so no matter what happens we have the support of the praetors.” Though the discovery of the Greek Fire as the start of the Senate House fire had been rather unfortunate. But there was also a part of Annabeth that wondered if it had even been Greek Fire that was responsible. She wouldn’t put it past the Romans to try and frame the Greeks by ‘claiming’ that a notoriously greek weapon had been the cause of it. Who was to say the fire hadn’t actually been an accident, and the Romans were taking advantage of said accident?
“Oh don’t worry wise girl,” Percy replied with a bright smirk crossing his face, “I don’t just like you, I think that it is pretty obvious that it is much much more than that…” he thought back to their conversation about kids. This was the best place for them to raise kids and that was all being put in jeopardy. “That does make me feel better, and we’ve got Jason too, he has some swing left in him, at least I hope so…” he trailed off and rubbed his eyes. He was almost always tired, but with everything going on it was more difficult than ever for him to get to sleep. “I don’t know why there are so many of them that can’t stand us, we’ve only ever attacked the city once and that was a dumb accident, it wasn’t Leo’s fault he was possessed….” he trailed off once more and sighed sadly, wishing that there was more that he could do to change the situation that they were in. As he reached the steps up to the Open Hearth he was received by more Greeks and college students who clapped him on his shoulder and greeted him and Annabeth warmly. These were his people and he wanted to protect them but part of him wondered if he was ever going to be able to do it. Was this a task that was too big?
“Gross,” Annabeth joked once more, though the smile in her eyes spoke to how she was truly pleased by his words. Of course she knew that Percy loved her, but that didn’t mean she got tired of hearing it. His mention of Jason had her uncertain though. Obviously, she loved Jason dearly— him being the closest thing she had to a brother, but she couldn’t help but remember how the dead Roman soldiers had refused to listen to him all those years ago in the Necromanteion. If they had already begun to question Jason that time ago...who was to say live Roman soldiers wouldn’t start to do so as well? But she shouldn’t be thinking of this right now. Today was a time for fun and pride, and she tried to shake off the heavier conversation for the moment, though her mind continued to whirl around the subject. “Speaking of Leo. How many drinks do you think it’ll be before he accidentally lights something on fire at the Open Hearth?”
The entire situation put Percy on edge, he couldn’t believe that things had gotten as bad as they had already and he hated seeing it get any worse. That was why he was fighting for this, he was doing absolutely everything in his power to make things right and part of him worried that it still wasn’t enough. “Very gross.” He couldn’t help agree with Annabeth, he really did agree with her, he wasn’t that whipped yet. “Somewhere between four and five, there are a high number of children of Ares who signed up for the first and second cohort who are attending and they seem to have been very proud to be Greek, so it won’t be long before they’re trying to make balistai out of a chair leg or something stupid like that.” He shrugged. “I’ve got a few buckets of ice behind the bar just in case anything needs to be put out.”
Again, Annabeth only grinned in her response to his agreeing with her. “Everyone knows that Poseidon kids have cooties.” She shouted along with the chants that were being led for a moment, letting herself be swept up in the energy of the march for the duration of them. All grouped up like this, chanting for the same thing and pride— she felt as if they were invincible. Truly, there was strength in numbers, as well as strength in having Percy by her side. “Of course there are a high number of Ares attending,” she mumbled under her breath, thinking of Clarisse and how much she would overreact to their current situation. Though she chuckled at Percy’s comment she also went on to say, “I just hope they aren’t successful. The last thing we need is a fight breaking out. It’s not as if the Romans don’t think we’re barbarians already. We hardly need to give them any excuse to think it more. But look at you coming all prepared for anything. I’m starting to wonder if you even need Riptide to automatically return to your pocket with how responsible you’ve become.” Of course, if he lost the sword in battle via disarming it was still incredibly useful, but she couldn’t resist teasing him.
“Ah, I think you’ll find that it is Athenians who have cooties, Poseidon kids have crabs. Don’t worry though, it is an easy mistake to make.” Percy smirked broadly before shrugging and chanting along with everyone else. It was a shame he’d never been able to engage in activism outside of New Rome, he was starting to think that he would’ve really loved it. He couldn’t help but smirk further at her jabs at the children of Ares. “Well, at least they’re willing to stand up and fight for what they believe in, although I’m not sure they wanted to when they found out that a daughter of the goddess of Peace had organised it…” he trailed off and smirked gently, the idea of the children of war and peace getting along was something that he wished Chiron could see. He hoped that their mentor would’ve been proud of them. “Ah, well, I’ve been trying extra hard to grow up actually,” he pointed out with a smirk, “this morning I had diet coke in my lucky charms! Diet.” He was of course joking. Diet coke was gross. It was all about coke zero.
Annabeth couldn’t help the hearty laugh that came from her at Percy’s joke, and she was only reminded once more of how much she loved him as her eyes crinkled in joy. “Thank the gods we use protection. The last thing I want is crabs. I’m perfectly happy with my cooties. At least they’re smart.” She could see the Open Hearth coming in to view, the front of the march already filing into the establishment. It marked the end of the progression, and a part of Annabeth was sad it was over— though she was excited for the celebrations that were sure to come inside the restaurant. “Definitely. That’s one thing Ares kids are useful for. And as if you’d go near anything but Coke Zero. We maybe be getting old Percy...but not that old. Soon enough we might even progress to cereals without marshmallows in them.”
As they reached the Open Hearth and the swarm of Greeks and the occassional Roman began to fan out around the building, everyone looking for drinks and refreshments, Percy couldn’t help himself and quickly found that he was pulling Annabeth into a lopsided hug and press a firm kiss to her cheek. “We made it, and of course we use protection, who doesn’t take a celestial bronze dagger to bed with them? Monsters under the bed is a very real thing….” he laughed after a second of silence and smirked gently. “Ah, you know me too well Annabeth,” he confessed with a bright grin, “I doubt I’d go near anything like that, we can’t all be boring and enjoy cardboard -- I mean cornflakes…”
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