Annabeth Hoo - Tumblr Posts

annabeth literally watched him floss and piss, and still somehow ends up falling in love with him.

this is the epitome of percabeth

I'm ngl... and I'm not sure if this is a hot take...

but i dont like that they cast Lin Manuel Miranda as Hermes.

Like he's a good singer and actor in stuff, but at some point people are just casting him to cast him. Like okay, having a cameo, or even just a different part sure, whatever, i don't really care. But Hermes????? Hermes?????

I don't know if it's just me that feels this way, but i just hate the whole feeling of it

tbf i haven't seen the newest episode, so i haven't seen him as Hermes, BUT IT IRKS MY BONES

please tell me i'm not the only one who feels this way😭

THE PROPHECY IS SO ANNABETH CHASE CODED YOU CAN PRY THIS SONG FROM MY COLD DEAD HANDS.

ITS ANNABETH WHEN THAILA DIES AND SHE HAS TO LIVE A LIFE WITHOUT HER OLDER SISTER IN A NEW WORLD DESPERATELY WANTING COMFORT THAT WASNT TAINTED

ITS ANNABETH WANTING A QUEST SINCE SHE WAS CHILD BEGGING FOR SOMEONE TO LET HER DO ONE

ITS ANNABETH REALIZING LUKE LEFT HER, THAT HE CRAVED POWER SO MUCH HE LEFT HIS LITTLE SISTER PLEADING FOR SOMEONE TO FILL THE VOID

ITS ANNABETH IN THE MIDDLE OF A MAZE CLINGING ONTO HER LAST SIGHT OF NORMALCY EXCEPT HE FUCKING DIES AND SHE NEEDS GUIDANCE

ITS ANNABETH WANTING HER BOYFRIEND BACK EXCEPT SHE DOESNT KNOW WHERE HE IS AND NEEDING SAFETY BUT HES HER SAFETY

ITS ANNABETH IN THE PITS OF HELL WANTING HOPE FOR THE LIGHT AT THE END OF THIS DARKNESS BECAUSE HELL FUCKING SUCKS

Yeah the prophecy is very annabeth chase coded and I would give a ted-talk about it

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summary; the gods are real. like, the greek gods. and apparently, you're a demigod. were you skeptical? yes. no time to question much though.

pairing; no romantic ones (yet) // clarisse la rue, annabeth chase, luke castellan, travis and conner stoll (all platonic)

word count; 1.9k

warning(s); none

a/n; whoop, my first series! might add a romantic pairing later on, but i don't think it's going to be percy or jason or leo since you (the reader) are a couple years older than them, around the age of the stolls (who to my knowledge are 15 in the lightning thief.)

takes place 3 years before the percy jackson books, reader & travis & clarisse are 12, connor is 11, annabeth is 9, luke is 16.

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μηδέν. mother of mine

"So, he finally told you?"

You opened your eyes to an unfamiliar sight and an ache in your back. Where were you? And where had that voice come from?

"Hello?" You called. Propping yourself up on your hands, you could see that you had been laid across a set of marble stairs as if someone had tossed you there like a sack of potatoes.

Your vision was slightly blurred, like a white veil was over your eyes. There was a cool tingling feeling on your skin, like someone had rubbed alcohol on it.

Looking around, you realized you were at the entrance of something straight out of your history book — an ancient Greek temple. A massive one, at that. Four sets of towering columns were placed in neat lines along the edge of a marble platform, and on top of them lay an ornate marble ceiling. Fluffy gray moss grew along the bases of the columns, while lighter gray vines of ivy wrapped up around them.

Strangely enough, some parts of the temple were bleached so white to the point they glowed, and other parts were more of a light, slightly transparent gray, similar to smoke but much more solid-looking. The ceiling in particular was clear enough to see the night sky through it, which held more stars than you'd seen in your entire life.

Through the columns were plains of tall grass that were devoid of color. It rippled almost like water as if harsh winds were blowing through, but you couldn’t feel the slightest breeze. The rustling of the plains was muffled, too, like you’d placed pillows on your ears. Overall, the place felt like a whole other world.

"Where am I?" Your voice — muffled, you realized, just like the grass — wavered, the initial awe starting to subside and panic slowly seeping in. The logical explanation for this situation was that you were dreaming, but the soreness in your back and the cold marble under your palms felt too real for it all to be fake...

Had you been kidnapped?

"What do you want from me?"

The voice from earlier chuckled, sending a chill down your spine. It wasn't coming from any particular direction. If anything, it sounded like it was echoing from your own head.

"My child, it is not what I want from you as much as what you need from me." It said.

From behind some of the columns, you saw the first bits of color you'd encountered since you'd woken up at this place: blue lights, bright as the stars above, floating leisurely like big fireflies. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a faint, golden light.

Suddenly, a dense mist flooded in from between the columns furthest from the entrance. From between the two middle columns emerged a wispy figure of a woman holding an old-fashioned reed torch in either hand, dressed in what you guessed were golden Greek robes.

Wait, no.. she came from between the columns furthest to the left. No, the right. Three smoky images of the same woman moved in unison toward the center of the temple.

To your surprise, you didn’t feel the need to run as she — they? — stepped closer. If anything, you felt drawn to her, like a chunk of metal to a magnet. You hastily stood up, feeling a little dizzy but otherwise fine.

The mist eventually subsided. Once the three wispy images were only a few feet away, they merged into a much more solid form, and your sight seemed to clear. You could make out her features.

Her skin was beautiful but deathly pale; the vibrant, turmeric-yellow robes with ornate golden designs that hung gracefully off her figure were the only thing that brought her some liveliness. Her blond hair was pulled back with a golden pin in a braided bun. Her face was like a Greek statue — pale, beautiful, and ageless — but her eyes were slightly unsettling. Squinting your eyes, you saw that they were a true inky black, irises and all. Not one bit of light reflected off of them.

You couldn’t quite pinpoint it, but the woman felt almost familiar...

"You're Hecate," you gasped, the realization hitting you like a truck. "The Greek goddess of magic."

"There’s one more title I hold, dear." Hecate smiled serenely, though it didn’t reach her eyes. "If you’d recall what your father told you..?"

Oh. The talk.

When your dad pulled you aside for a ‘talk’ around early evening, you’d expected him to bring up the birds and the bees. Instead, he had told you that the Greek gods were real and that you were the daughter of one of them — the goddess of magic herself. You’d been worried your dad had gone crazy, or if he was on something, or even drunk, but he looked so serious you had to promise not to tell anybody. You didn’t believe him, though.

"You can’t be my mother." You stood firm in your nonbelief. This had to be a dream, something your subconscious created because of the sheer nonsense you’d heard earlier that day. "You’re not even real. All of this is in my head. Besides, I already have a mom."

You immediately knew you’d said something you shouldn’t have.

The air grew colder as Hecate’s smile dropped the slightest bit, tilting now into more of a smirk. A green glow surrounded her as you began to feel lightheaded.

A searing pain exploded behind your eyes, and you fell to your knees, crouched over and gripping your head with both your hands. You tried to scream, only to discover that your voice had vanished. Memories you didn’t know you had started appearing one by one, and soon they were all whirling around in one big, jumbled, incoherent storm.

You could make out flashes of images — a pale woman in a dark coat watching as a young you played on the swing set with your two best friends… The same woman at the very back of the gymnasium at your elementary school graduation... And yet again the same woman handing your dad a little bundle of silk blankets, from which you could see the small fist of a baby sticking out to grab hold of anything it came across.

The pain stopped just as it had started, and you were left on the ground, cold and confused, with your eyes still tightly shut. You tried desperately to make something of all this new information, putting every memory into a neat little timeline just to make it all make sense. But the more you tried, the more you realized most of these memories weren’t new at all but rather variants of certain memories that you had never been able to recall in full detail.

"I can assure you that I’m quite real, my child." She said. You reluctantly looked up at her, shivering slightly from the cold. She’d come a lot closer in the last few moments. "The only reason you don’t have any recollection of me is because I swore upon the river Styx not to reveal myself or anything of my world to you before your father explained it all to you first."

She looked you over. "Although I can see that he clearly hasn’t done the explaining very well. As for your ‘mom’ — Delilah, was it? — I’m afraid she has no idea of anything, poor dear." She tsked, a bored look on her face.

"If I’m really your daughter, prove it." You spat, your throat hurting from trying to scream too much. Your head was still pounding. "Prove to me that this isn’t all some crazy dream. One of my nightmares."

"Nightmares?" Well, that certainly piqued her interest. "Tell me about these nightmares."

"I don’t know; they’re nightmares. Everyone has them." You were becoming irritated. Whether or not this was a dream or reality, one thing was for certain: you did not like the goddess of magic one bit. "Sometimes I’d have them a couple nights in a row, and they’d all connect, but they’re still just nightmares."

"Ah, but you see, a demigod’s dreams are quite special." Hecate said, smiling widely once again. "They often convey messages or show what may happen in the future. Tell me, have any of your nightmares come true?"

Your heart skipped a beat. You remembered one time you dreamt of your parents getting in a car crash. They were hit by a drunk driver on the way home from work only two days later. You’d stayed over at your best friends’ house for over a week so that their mom could take care of you when your parents were at the hospital.

"This isn’t giving me proof, mom." You said instead, not wanting to tell Hecate much about anything. You didn’t trust her, and giving her more information on you when she’d clearly been keeping well up to date on your life without your knowledge wasn’t beneficial for you. "Saying things isn’t going to make me believe. I need something solid, something real."

You took a deep breath as one of her eyebrows arched up. With her void-looking eyes, you couldn’t tell if she was amused or annoyed at what you had just said.

Then her smile grew wider.

"As I’ve said, child, you need something from me — or rather, some things would be more accurate, I suppose. Being a demigod comes with a few chinks and perks, and you’ll need my help to control and survive them."

"Wait, wait, wait. What the hell do you mean, ‘survive’? Am I in danger?"

"Why, of course." Hecate seemed almost gleeful at the mention of danger.

‘Some mother she is’, you thought.

"Danger comes naturally with being a child of the gods. There are monsters and gods looking for someone to smite, and don't forget the quests—"

Monsters? Quests? What kind of life had your dad brought you into?

"—which is why you’ll need me." She finished. There was a tinge of pale pink on her cheeks, as though the mere thought of tossing you in a pit with all sorts of nasty creatures was just too exciting. "As for the proof you requested... I’m afraid we have run out of time."

"Wait, what?" You were beginning to feel very stupid at this point. All you had were questions and a ‘mother’ who seemed uninterested in giving you any straight answers.

You looked at her expectantly, and she stared back at you. She seemed to freeze for a moment, then looked around the temple before settling her gaze on one particular spot on the left. Then she turned toward you again, the pink tint on her cheeks more evident than before.

"Check under your pillow once you wake up. Look after those brothers you’re so fond of; you’ll need them where you’re going." She rushed out, a green glow starting to surround her.

"Wait—"

"I’ll see you sometime soon, child." Hecate was now split into three images again, each one shoving something small, flat, and square into your hand. "Don’t disappoint me."

Hecate then disappeared. The temple began to crumble in her absence, with cracks appearing out of nowhere on the pristine marble. They wound up the columns and spread throughout the ceiling, creating shapes that resembled lightning.

Then everything came pouring down on you.

Annabeth and Camp Jupiter; Years of service and stuff

I was drawing a silly little comic that had Annabeth in it, and while drawing Annabeth I realized something,

By HoO Annabeth has ten camp beads. She has been at camp for the same amount of time any Camp Jupiter kid who didn’t opt to stay a little longer has. While that may seem like a random detail, it could’ve been such a like- thing?

That Annabeth. The daughter of Athena, direct like force that would drive the Romans and Greeks to war once more, has essentially had her full service to her own camp. Could we have gotten parallels between her and other Camp Jupiter kids who had been full term; perhaps other characters begrudgingly respecting her because in their eyes and their own minds she’s already done all her training. Could we have gotten a different silly little interaction between people like Reyna, or Octavian due to the fact she’d been at Camp for so long? Even if it was small like deferring to her as leader, give Annabeth some pause and stutter with her hubris flaw or whatever.

Uhh anyway, all of that to say that Annabeth and legionnaire parallels are silly and if I was more interested in Annabeth I’d love to do stuff with that but sadly I am not. But it’d be a good look at how the legion defers to power and experience and maybe I’ll bring it up again someday. Oh well, we’ll see lol