Hello, I'm back, and I've decided to tackle some more cliches. I'll come back to the story of Talianna the Mary-Sue, but I'm going to show you how not to write a Percabeth hurt/comfort fic. Kudos to Zoe Nightshade for pointing out all the horrible parts of your average Percy-and-Annabeth-like-each-other-but-they-can't-tell-each-other story and gave me the idea to write this painfully fluffy hurt/comfort fic.

But I've also noticed some people have developed a cult-like following of Rachel haters. Rachel's pretty awesome, OK? If she weren't partially in the way of Percabeth, you'd like her a lot.

Another thing that puts me off: A disclaimer featuring Rick Riordan, random PJO characters, and the author/ess in which Rick Riordan/random PJO character randomly come to tell you in some form how Percabeth23456 or someone does not own PJO in the author/ess's weak stab at humor.

I've been ranting too long, haven't I? Never mind. Just read it.


In The Moonlight, Another Percabeth Parody


Annabeth's POV

It was a late night at Camp Half-Blood, and Percy and Rachel just happened to be talking to each other in the mess hall for some odd reason. I was watching from behind a column, watching with sad eyes at the boy I knew that I loved and that girl.

Rachel Elizabeth Dare . . . just looking at them made me feel like running off to sob somewhere, so I did.

Percy's POV

I heard her as she ran off to the creek to cry her eyeballs out, and then ran in slow motion, looking all heroic and attractive-like, to save Annabeth, leaving Rachel standing there like an idiot telling me to come back.

"What's wrong?" I asked her in my most comforting voice, putting my arm around her semi-romantically while she kept sobbing.

She pushed me away. "You. You're the problem." She glared at me and I realized right there she was the most beautiful girl in the world.

"How am I the problem?" I asked again in my stupid-but-I-sound-sincere voice.

Annabeth burst into fresh tears, and I felt guilt taking over because I realized I was in love with her, seeing her blonde curls in the moonlight whipping around her face in slow motion again like we were in a cheesy romance movie.

"Rachel. You love her, don't you?"

I paused for dramatic effect, because I already knew the answer.

"No. I love you."

And then I kissed her reassuringly, and I heard her sobbing reduce to whimpering, and then it stopped, and she shuddered in my arms.

"I love you too, Seaweed Brain."

And all I wanted was to hold Annabeth in my arms while we kissed in the moonlight.


Thanks for reading this second chapter, and hopefully you have enough sense to know that this is pathetic writing.

Anyway, thanks, and reviews are appreciated, no matter what they contain!