Me and my friend was talking about Malcolm and Connor the other day (Ik that they never interacted in the books but in my world they’re canon, argue with your mama). In toa they seem to be the only “older” campers that are still year-rounders (or at least that have been mentioned in privies books).
Travis is in college, so Is Annabeth and probably many other of Malcolms and Connors friends. Just imagine, we’re fresh of the battle of Manhattan. They’ve won the war, but at the same time lost in many other ways. Both Malcolm and Connor are left at camp over the winter without people that they’re used to have around. I can imagine that it’s strange to both of them and especially Connor who’s there without Travis for once.
I just imagine that’s when the both of them gets closer. Maybe not even romantically but just as people. They’re two teens that have sort of grown up together and now they’re learning how to face the changes together.
I read this short little fic that was basically about Malcolm and Connor laying on the floor of cabin 11 while listening to Solo by Frank Ocean, talking about memories from the years they spent at camp prior. It was so short yet so sweet and it really got me thinking about them and how much they probably meant to each other.
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hints of percy/luke, percy/rachel, past percy/annabeth. Could be read as gen or pre-slash percy/apollo, I suppose. I don't know what this is. But have it, anyway.
He looks like Luke. He'll always look like Luke, with his hair colour and style, warm skin tone and eyes as blue and as sharp as a winter sky. But his smile, the look in his eyes, his love for art - that's all Rachel, to her core. All these years down the line, Percy still remembers them. As they were, as they ended up being.
Aside from Luke, who doesn't count, Annabeth died first.
He should have expected it, he supposes, now, and has done for a good few decades at this point. After all, she's smart, and skilled, but out of all the Godly parents, Athena gives her children the least things to help them out, power-wise. Eventually, they'll find something, be in a situation where they're just as stuck as a mortal would be. Being shot in the head isn't something you can think your way out of. And mortals are immune to celestial bronze, but demigods aren't immune to .50 cal ammunition.
Worst of both worlds, really.
And sometimes - sometimes, out of the corner of his eye, in his peripheral vison, he'll see Californian blonde and sun-tanned skin, and he'll think Annabeth, then he'll think Luke, and then he'll turn, and it's neither. That smile's all Rachel, that stance vaguely Jason, and that person's all God. Apollo.
Apollo's the only god who remembers, and cares, about what it's like to be mortal. Percy's the only ex-mortal in these parts that hates the ex- part.
He misses Meg, Percy thinks. They don't really talk about any of it. Why would they? Talking about it would inevitably bring things up that'd make them angry, and - look. The last time they had a row there was a drought and an earthquake and a terrible heatwave in Santa Monica. It's not worth the hassle. Or the lecture.
If they don't do anything stupid, the other Gods leave them alone. Well - to be fair - they leave Apollo alone. Percy's the sort of important that you can't leave out of anything. You know. Just in case he ever attempts to buy bigger boots. By killing you. 'You' being a God, and that god being Zeus, because - even Thalia's dead now. Even Thalia.
When he visits the Romans, sometimes, they just think straight-up that he's Neptune. Poseidon never attempts to rectify this assumption, because - well, migraines, split-personalities. It's hard to correct, but Percy does, each time. It apparently gets less convincing as time goes by. Percy minds this very much, but there's nothing he can do about it.
Curses are curses. Eventually, Percy will probably end up a god through belief alone. He's not looking forward to it.
Apollo's reasons for all this are just as obtuse and well-hidden as Percy's own. To admit some truth, Percy's have a hint of nostalgia to them. He supposes there could be that for the God, but it's not like Percy can tell him many stories. Oh, yeah, lets reminisce about the time your son died because of me. Like that'd go down well.
But still, he's here. In this centuries-spanning nightmare, he's here.
And sometimes, in Percy's peripheral vision, he looks like her. Like Rachel, because in a sense - well. She was his Oracle of Delphi. They were linked, on some high level. But he blinks, and it's (Luke) Apollo again. Just like always.
Percy has met Luke. Isle of the Blessed; it was bound to happen eventually. He's met Rachel again too. Clarisse, Silena, Beckendorf, Chris Rodriguez, Leo, Piper. Nico, Bianca, Hazel, Frank. Everyone. He's met them. Whether in Elysium or on Earth, he's met them, as their dead selves or their new ones.
Apollo's kids never like him, but there's a different reason for that now, than when Percy was sixteen.
"Gotta do the rounds," Apollo says. He tosses his keys up in his hand, then catches them. "Wanna drive?"
"Sure," Percy says. Percy can't figure the guy out. And the more time he spends with him, the less it makes sense. The fewer questions he wants to ask, because he doesn't want to know their answers, anymore.
Eventually, immortality's just tiring.
They leave Percy's apartment, and get in the sun-chariot-car. It's some two-seater hot-rod red sports car from this century, which means Percy looks at it and feels deeply out of place, but the interior could have been from 1999, so he can drive it.
And he does. Up into the sky, with Apollo leaning back in his seat, arms crossed behind his head. Zeus won't strike Percy down right now, because he's not a demigod in the wrong place anymore, just a not-mortal with no place at all. In the end, Percy thinks, wryly, they got what they wanted. Just without having to give Percy any real power at all. Or fulfil any of their promises.
He should have made that styx vow airtight.
But there's no point getting angry anymore. There's nobody who'll listen, and fewer who'll care.
"Why do you bother?" Percy asks.
"Don't you want me to?" Apollo asks. It goes like this. A question for a question for a question. Percy looks a little like Thalia, and he knows Apollo thought she was pretty.
"Why would you want to?" Percy asks.
"Not much else to do," Apollo says. His smile is gone, and that expression on his face, one Percy can't quite read, makes him think of someone he can't quite remember. It's been centuries, give him a break. Mortal brains aren't made for memories that distant. That far away.
They have this conversation, every now and again. Answers and questions learnt by rote, some kind of twisted performance.
"You're a God," Percy says. "You've had millenia to figure out how to pass the time," He stares straight ahead, taps his fingers on the steering wheel. "God of medicine, music. Surely there's something for you to do."
"Well, they've figured out a lot down there," Apollo gestures, shrugging, then crosses his arms behind his head again, looks up into the atmosphere. "Regrow limbs. Cured cancer. Yadda yadda. Humans have made music before I came along, and they'll make it after."
"I always wondered," Percy says. "Sun doesn't move. Earth does. How does this work?" He gestures down, at the vehicle they're riding in.
"Tradition," Apollo says. "I don't know. Moon does move, Artemis' job has a point to it. Me? I just give credence to geocentrism."
Summary: Set in Manhattan, troubled Percy Jackson goes from job to job without any direction in life, living for the sole purpose of survival. He plays an everlasting game of blame with his absent and distant father. Annabeth Chase struggles with accepting and loving who she is. The two have a lot they can learn from each other. For mature audiences.
;;
Another one of their, at this point trademark, silences flowed and they just stared at each other. Annabeth's face had an expression that Percy could classify as sympathy. He found himself being comforted by her slight smile instead of angered. Under normal circumstances should anyone look at him like that, he would've been enraged that they would feel sorry for him. But something about how her eyes dripped of sincerity and warmth towards him knew that she wasn't blaming him or putting him at fault for whatever his life had managed to throw at him. Even though he'd hinted that his anger was something she probably didn't want to see, and had shown her proof through cuts and bruises on his face on how far it could go, she still was sitting here, looking at him, and smiling ever so slightly.
So, I just want to say, I would write my gay fanfictions, BUT I would also include my friends in it. And I do not regret it one bit. Also, this had 26 chapters, and I may or may not be completing it, HERE YOU GO, my old HOO fanfic.
Chapter 6 - “He’s hot...”
Lunar Eclipse POV
I took a sip from my white wine.
“Nico, How could he just leave me like that,” I sobbed.
“why do you have to do this in my cabin?” he complained. All I wanted was someone to talk to...
“Because you’re the only dude at this camp I don’t have a crush on.” This was a real problem. I liked everyone.
“Lunar, don’t dwell on love, it will only get your heart broken.” (Hot topic vibes) Nico told me. I knew exactly what he meant.
“Like yesterday, when Pollux ran away after I kissed him.”
“You did WHAT?!?”
“I kissed Pollux.”
“Lunar, He’s your brother.”
“I know.”
“Then why the hell did you kiss him?!?”
“He’s hot...”
“Oh my gods.”
I don’t know why looked disappointed. I was just shooting my shot.
I just want to state here that I did not decide her name. She decided it herself. And in case you are wondering, yes she does have a wattpad account.
Title: Way back when
Summary: For Annabeth, Percy is 2am calls and pillow talks. For Percy, Annabeth is movie cuddles and intensity. (in which Percy and Annabeth make a bet, and someone loses twenty dollars in the end)
Pairing: percy/annabeth
Word Count: 23K+ (one shot)
Author’s Note: so !! i wrote this ~coming of age ~ fic way back in gr9 and published on new years bc i was feeling Sentimental™️ !! also it’s a Pain to edit (shout out to grammarly for doing me a solid) so i apologize if there are errors ,, and keep in mind i wrote this like 5yrs ago and it’s cheesy af but i’m Attached . enjoy the fic if u read and thx
Read on: ff.net // ao3
ok here’s a lil preview if y’all are interested thx
Annabeth needs a break.
Five years old and she’s already stressing out over her first day in kindergarten. Sure, she’s been preparing, studying the alphabet nonstop, can count to one thousand, and not to mention reorganizing her backpack to her version of complete perfection every twenty minutes. However, despite all her preparation, it still doesn't ease her nerves. So, naturally, she goes to her favourite park with the dual swing sets right below the shady trees.
She loves the swing sets, in particular, the purple swing set on the left side. It may be the fact that purple is her favourite colour, or that she claims it goes much higher than the boring, creaky, yellow swing set on her right.
However, the sight in front of Annabeth confuses her.
Why is a stranger sitting on her swing set?
Annabeth is furious, and the thought of another person on her swings is mortifying. She made it clear to regular play-grounders that this is her swing set and no one is given permission to go there from 4 PM to 5 PM.
‘He must be new,’ she thinks, gritting her teeth and strolling to the boy who is pathetically trying to beat her maximum height record on her purple swing.
“What are you doing?” She questions the boy who is happily grinning at the newfound company right in front of him.
“I’m swinging of course. You wanna join?” The boy with the brightest green eyes asks her, and Annabeth cannot feel more rage than she already does.
“I know, I’m not dumb. That's my swingset.” Annabeth huffs, crossing her arms defiantly.
Percy raises his eyebrow. “Mom tells me that toys are mine if it has my name. Do you have your name on the swings?”
Annabeth frowns. “No.”
“Did you make this swing?”
She is just entirely confused, not knowing where this was going. “No.”
“Did you buy this swing?”
She stares bafflingly at the shorter boy in front of her. “No.”
“Then it’s not your swing!” The boy counters and Annabeth doesn’t like the way he ignores her after and keeps on swinging.
“Everyone knows it’s my swing. Get off my swing, and I’ll forgive you.” Annabeth grabs the metal chains attached to the purple swing set.
The boy looks at her exasperatedly. “Really? There’s a yellow swing set over there!”
“Yeah, but it’s not mine. And, it’s slow.” Annabeth pouts, her eyebrows scrunched up and her feet sinking in the sand.
“I know.” Percy chuckles and keeps swinging.
Annabeth sighs in annoyance, blowing a hair off her face. She did warn him. Now she must do whatever it takes to get this creature off her purple swing.
So, of course, Annabeth chooses the moment the boy is nearing the ground so that she won't get to hurt him too much. When his feet near the ground, Annabeth instantly gets behind and pushes the boy off her swing set. Eventually, he lands with arms shielding his face right as he crashes in the sand.
Annabeth then ambles to her purple swing set and looks smugly at the boy who didn’t know whether to be amused or angry. But it seems like he accepts it because he should’ve listened.
“I did warn you.” Annabeth laughs, as she ruffles the boy who frowns at her.
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physically in my room with seven different assignments due in two days during fkn February.
Mentally laying in the grass field with Katie, Malcolm and Josh mid July, gossiping about different campers while planning how we’re gonna get revenge on the Stolls later this day.
Summary: Set it Manhattan, troubled Percy Jackson goes from job to job without any direction in life, living for the sole purpose of survival. He plays an everlasting game of blame with his absent and distant father. Annabeth Chase struggles with accepting and loving who she is. The two have a lot they can learn a lot from each other. For mature audiences.
;;;
"Thank you," he said. The quiet of his voice blew light wisps of her hair from her eyes.
She looked sheepish. "It's nothing."
He then stood, a little too suddenly as he felt a bit lightheaded, but gained his bearings on the balls of his feet. She stood as well and was inadvertently very close to him. Pieces of her hair brushed his chin. They both took a step back, startled, and Percy saw her wringing her hands behind her back. He ran a hand through his hair and calmed himself from the slight surprise.
