myazael

[myazael]

Practice makes perfect:

@urbantheory

[myazael]

TWO OF THE (MANY) SCENES DELETED FROM CHAPTER 7 OF WTHB

(If something looks weird, it's because I converted markdown to html and THEN to RTF)

SCENE 1

APOLLO

WINTER SOLSTICE OF 2007

OLYMPUS

First thing Hermes says is: ‘No!’

Very loud. Very rude. The poor nymph who was serving the drinks runs the other way.

Apollo had his head turned so he could have a clear sight of the object of his desires, so Hermes grabbed his face with one hand and forced Apollo to look at him. ‘No.’ It was more of a whisper now, almost a prayer.

Twinged by jealousy and disappointment, Apollo addressed the elephant in the room. ‘Are you…’

‘No!’ Why Hermes sounded like a broken record, Apollo had no idea, but the knowledge that his brother possessed no passion for their lovely cousin made Apollo’s—very—stressful day a thousand times better. He beamed and looked at her again, just to be once again interrupted by Hermes, who invaded his line of sight. Before Apollo could protest, his brother was already speaking. ‘I care for her as you do for Artemis.’

Apollo furrowed his brows.

That was… odd.

Hermes wasn’t one to deny himself any sort of beauty, and he got a good eye for precious and forbidden things he could steal. What was more beautiful, precious and forbidden than the daughter their uncle sired in secrecy with a mortal with whom any other god would avoid meddling? 

Apollo stretched his body so he could see beyond his brother. Across the room, stood Persephone—what a poetic name for a girl who bears the choice to save or destroy them all. She was the most glorious vision Apollo had ever had in front of his godly eyes. Confusing as it was, it had little to do with her striking looks—not that Apollo denied in any way the fine traces that designed his cousin’s face, for she had been gracefully constructed by her parents; Uncle Poseidon and her mortal mother made an exceptional work. 

However, there was something even more charming underneath the gold silky skin that covered her nearly unhuman skin, something dangerous behind the porcelain teeth, something delicate than the shade of her indescribably sea-ish eyes. The beauty that puzzled Apollo was something warm and bright, very much like himself. Something kept as a secret, a poetry he hadn't yet read, a melody muffled by louder noises that refused to go quiet so he could delight in it peacefully. 

As the God of Knowledge, the feeling of being in the dark was _unbearable_—for he was also the god of the sun, it was twice as painful.

He had merely met the sea’s Persephone, yet he felt completely drowned by the mystery of her deepnesses. What a wonderful day his sister had asked for his help. Like everyone else, he had been curious about the Forbidden Child, but nothing prepared Apollo for the greenish blue lakes of salt water that would welcome him that day. Then his sister was taken, and Persephone Jackson chose to go on that quest.

He knew she sought for her own friend. But she was there. Now, Artemis was returned to him and all thanks to the non-rule-abiding daughter of the sea, who may be the cause of his death in a few months. By trying to help her quest, Apollo only got more interested.

With Artemis returned, he found himself with nothing else to think about but Percy Jackson. Well, technically the war was happening, but as she was the most important piece of the chessboard, by thinking of her, he thought of the war.

One thing in particular twitched inside of Apollo: did Persephone Jackson know what she was owned?

She just saved his sister. She could ask him anything in exchange. However, nothing so far. What sort of mortal did not demand payment from a god? Apollo would grant her any gift; be it the art of prophecy or an EGOT. Anything.

There she was, laughing at something her father just told her. Apollo sighed dreamily, imagining himself as the reason for her smile.

Once again, Hermes grunted. ‘_No!_’

‘She is bewildering.’ Apollo blinked slowly, tilting his head to the side slightly.

‘She is.’ Hermes, though mourningful, agreed. ‘But she already has too much on her shoulders.’

Playfully, Apollo opened a smile. ‘I can be helpful.’ He sang.

‘She doesn’t need this sort of help.’ Hermes made a face, then softened it when he turned to look at her. ‘Percy wants a quiet life. She never wanted any of it, and yet, because of us, she has so little to live of her own life. It’s not fair.’

Apollo pressed his lips together, the lines of the prophecy dancing on his mind. There were so many ways that could play out, yet he did admit that most of them ended up badly for her.

Apollo studied the expression of his younger brother’s face—so sad it broke Apollo’s hypothetical heart. Sorrow did not go well with Hermes, though lately it was all that existed there. The betrayal of Luke Castellan was a low blow on him, and though the boy still lived, it didn’t change that he was forever lost. Nothing cut deeper than the loss of a child.

Softly, Apollo places his hand on the arm of Hermes, caressing it lightly. There wasn’t much to be said, and there was very little comfort to be offered in these dark times. Only a miracle could save his son, and even the gods were sceptical about miracles.

Then, like one his father’s thunder, it hit him. ‘You think she can do it!’

Hermes' eyes flared for a second. ‘It doesn’t matter.’ He shrugged. ‘I know that she can, but I also know how it would be damaging for her to keep trying until she succeeded. I will not insist.’

‘But you asked.’ Apollo didn’t need an answer, and Hermes did not try to give him one. ‘I see it.’

‘See what?’

‘Your affections.’ Apollo closed his eyes, letting the knowledge sink in. ‘You do care for her as I do for Artemis. I can see how pure it is, and the last thing I’d wish is to cause you pain, brother. I shall not pursue her, not without your blessing.’ That was a lament. Just because he intended to keep his word, didn’t mean he liked to say them.

Something roared inside of him. For a second, he looked again at Percy Jackson. A last glimpse of what he would never have—she would be to him like one of those unsolved questions in history that the mortals never stopped to look for answers, even if it was pointless to make such an effort; there was poetry in it. The eternal longing for answers. Had she been born in a different era, she too would be the object of wonder for those who came after her, the muse of artists and the hero of kids, and maybe his own name would collapse with hers, and they’d be tied together, one way or another.

There is something suffocating about her, and gods shouldn’t feel breathless.

His second lasted a little longer. When he makes a move to look away. It’s when his eyes meet with hers. Both turn away immediately. Warmth goes right into Apollo’s cheeks. 

He’s flushed and his eyes flared gold for a second—he hoped no one had seen that. Apollo decided the best thing to do was to stare to the ground until he was swallowed by it.

‘Don’t make promises you cannot keep.’ He heard Hermes exhaling.

‘I can keep promises!’ Apollo retorted.

‘Let me rephrase it then, don’t make promises that’ll hurt you.’ Hermes murmured. ‘If you must, you have my blessing.’

Apollo widened his eyes and stared at his brother in disbelief. ‘Wait, really?’

Closing his eyes, Hermes continued. ‘I don’t know what might happen to us in the future. I mean, you don’t know, so you can imagine how lost I am. I don’t want to make your last moments miserable.’

‘Hm, thanks?’

‘I’ve noticed you have been at home recently.’

‘I live there, in case you don’t remember.’

Hermes took a deep breath. ‘You’ve been there. Daydreaming, singing to the walls, painting…’

‘I do that quite often.’

‘You do.’ Hermes agreed. ‘But there’s always a part of you with someone. Not in the past days. You’ve gathered your essence at home. And I know you.’

‘You’ve been stalking me!?’ Apollo raised a brow, thinking about the exceedingly long time he spent looking for a beach with the exact same shade of green of Percy Jackson’s eyes.

‘No. But our moms talk.’

‘Oh, of course.’

‘What I’m saying is: if that will bring you happiness, you shall have it.’ Hermes declared. ‘Under the condition that you must treat her with the utmost kindness, either Percy comes to want you or not. Her body, her soul, her mind and her heart, they’re far too frail to be handled bluntly, and I would not stand one more scratch on her.’

‘I see…’

‘You can promise me this?’

Apollo smiled thankfully to his brother. ‘Of course I can.’

SCENE 2

AUGUST 18TH, 2010

CAMP HALF-BLOOD

If there was anything more endearing than his girlfriend surrounded by little kids, Apollo was unaware of it. Made his stomach flutter with butterflies and his heart pump on his chest like a hammer—he did not possess a stomach nor a heart, but the metaphor stood.

What a lovely day it was. Couldn’t be any different. He personally made sure Percy had a perfectly sunny day for her birthday, with a pretty sunrise and an even prettier sunset, for Apollo knew she loved those. Beside his own interference, everything settled perfectly in place, creating a picturesque image that contrasted with the dreadful events of the past years. Apollo hoped she could make sweeter memories regarding her birthday, other than the bloodshed she witnessed during the war.

He longed for better memories. For her and for himself, too. Hopefully, together. Apollo can't help the warm flush on his cheeks, nor the smirk that stretches across his face. The baby in his arms—well, she is technically a toddler, but to him his kids were babies forever—laughs and touches his cheeks, accusing her daddy of looking silly. Thankfully, no one else notices. Kayla, Austin and Will, the eldest of his demigod kids, are laughing about something. In fact, it looks like Kayla and Austin are laughing about something that shifts Will’s face from rosy to scarlet. Apollo can imagine what it is. His son is not exactly subtle.  

Apollo let himself be blinded for a second by the smiles on their faces. That was a good memory. It was, perhaps, maybe endearing enough to compete with Percy playing with little kids. As petty as it sounded, Apollo took pride in the fact that his kids did feel comfortable enough around him—most of his peers couldn’t say the same. He twirled the younger ones in the air, created sparkles around them just to see the glitter in their eyes, joked with the older ones and sang with them a song every now and then. He tried not to think about how his cabin numbers shrunk during the war.

Apollo closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He knew better than anyone else the consequences of dwelling on the past. Instead, he reminded himself the kids were in Elysium and nothing could hurt them anymore. They would want Apollo to take care of their siblings, and that was under his power. Now, not from the shadows and under his father’s rules. Thanks to Percy.

From now on, good memories only, he thought, smelling the sweet scents of flowers and sunshine from his children.

He wished Percy could join him. Apollo knew for a fact she was particularly close to Will, but as far as everyone knew, Percy wasn't really close to Apollo. To Hermes? Yes, a lot of talk about that. To Artemis? Of course, it was secret to no one that Percy was the very kind of person her sister enjoyed having around. When it came to Percy and Apollo, it was always ironically in the dark. That didn't bother him… Not as much as it would've, back in the ancient times. He could keep his cool, and if there was one thing he learned about romance, is that what nobody knows, nobody ruins—which was actually a joke about Odysseus being seriously unlucky, but the meaning changed overtime.

His _Ocean Belle_… So close and so far. For now, if having Percy in secrecy was synonymous to having Percy, then let it be it. He could watch her during the day and be with her during the night, where her smiles and laughter and the glitter in her eyes would belong entirely to him. When she would tell him and no one else about her day and confine to him her secrets, making of the curve of his neck a nest where she could lay her head and rest, warmed by the heat of his body as they talked through the night. Their secrecy was something he appreciated, however, to be in her presence and not being near her was torture; all that Apollo wished was to have her and his kids all together in one place, and to have his fingers intertwined with hers in public.

Well, one thing at a time. He wouldn't want Uncle Poseidon—or worse, cousin Triton—getting in their way, much less Apollo's own father. So close to the end of the war, all eyes were set on her and Apollo wasn't deaf to the whispers about his beloved. If what they had was known, all the vultures would come to spoil their happiness. They'd see it as an invitation, a challenge to overturn, a nuisance—not to say obstacle—that could be solved through trickery.    

It happened before. It happened all the time. Happened with his stepmother, when she was a maiden and refused to take a suitor. Apollo's father tricked her in order to have her as his wife. Then the same with Aphrodite, who was forced into marriage to avoid a war amongst gods. Even with the first Persephone, whose fate had been decided spitefully behind her mother's back. Apollo knew his family. He knew no one would dare to cross Poseidon and chase after his youngest, most beloved, and first-ever demigod daughter. Problem was: Poseidon had already been crossed, and by Apollo, the nephew he loved the most and trusted the most. Other suitors wouldn't have to worry as much about his rage, if such rage was already directed into someone else.

Apollo was no fool to think that his uncle would endorse any god’s relationship with Percy. Not so soon after the war, and if Apollo knew a thing or other about his uncle, not ever. Apollo did know Poseidon. They had a relationship as solid as the walls of Troy that together they raised from the rubble of their—unfortunately failed—rebellion. His uncle was not the forgiving type. He would have to be gently introduced to the concept of having a son-in-law before being introduced to the son-in-law.

That's alright, Apollo thought, brushing away the pessimism from his mind, all it takes is a little patience and a few years.

He watched Percy through the corner of his eyes a little longer. She was dutifully followed by Hades’ son, who carried a plate full of cookies in his hands like a lion guarding its prey. Percy said something that got Nico di Angelo seriously troubled while she stormed into laughter. Adorable, Apollo thought, letting the sound of her laughs get into his ears, so he could appreciate the cadence of her voice.

Apollo took another deep breath and rested his chin on the top of his daughter’s head. ‘Dad is silly.’ Said the three-year-old girl, the youngest of his living children. 

Apollo chuckled. ‘Sillier than you think, Amy.’ He said, kissing her cheek.

As the hours flew by and kids got tired, Apollo sneaked the essence of his body, making most of it invisible. He saw as Percy walked away from the crowd, following with Hades' son toward the beach—probably to watch the sunset, and Apollo hoped she’d enjoy the show made just for her. In the meanwhile, he used the opportunity to walk around and make sure everything was safe for the next hours—he didn't want anyone sticking their noses on his business.

Surprisingly, considering the place was crowded with gods and demigods who were fighting each other to death just a year ago, it was all peaceful. Well, except for a reasonably tipsy Persephone in a corner, because she tended to brag in detail about her excessively happy married life, and no one wanted to listen to her talking about Uncle Hades when she was like that. Especially considering it was summer, and she was probably missing him. Thankfully, Hecate was near Persephone, avoiding her from traumatising this generation.

Apollo passed through Rhode and Triton, his sibling-in-law. If he had to pick one to open his heart about his secret relationship with their sister, it would be Rhode. She was the calmer in her family, and Apollo once was the pupil to her late husband, meaning he would spend a lot of time in their household. Few gods had that lovely personality. But not at that moment. The former Sun Bride had a deadly expression on her face, and her brother Triton had a hand on her arm, just in case he needed to restrain her.

He couldn't help but feel sympathy for her obvious irritation. Apollo too hated her brother.

Not Triton. The other one, from her mother's side. Eros. He was a hateful feathery creature that no one deserved to endure—except, perhaps, the other hateful feathery creature that usually followed him around, Zephyrus. Of course, as much as Apollo hated Eros, he doubted anyone despised him more than his older sister, Rhode. In fact, his sister-in-law avoided anyone from her mother's brood, having herself an aversion for the Goddess of Love. Curiously, Aphrodite kept trying to retrieve her daughter's love and forgiveness, even after years and years of estrangement.

The little group, formed by Eros, Aphrodite and poor Rhode and Triton, tried to keep a talk. At least, Aphrodite tried. Every time Eros spoke, Rhode's eyes glazed with fury and Triton had to tighten his hold on her arm.

Well, they won't be interrupting, Apollo cheered.

A few metres away, Poseidon and Zeus… Laughed? Screamed at each other? Apollo wasn't quite sure. It was always a mystery between them, but they were loud. Poor Uncle Hades closed his eyes and inhaled deeply between every other word, moving his head in an attempt to avoid the sounds. Even Apollo thought he might go deaf if he walked too close.

They talked about something they did about the French Revolution. Uncle Hades had a nasty expression, making a remark about how much he hated how people died of stupid causes back then. As if it was the funniest joke they've ever heard, Zeus and Poseidon threw their heads back while Hades rolled his eyes.

Apollo didn't remember the last time he’d seen the Big Three _talking_—without the war threats or the comments about the time living (or not) in Kronos’ stomach. Before they started to talk about the most unsavoury parts of the 18th century and their adventures then, Apollo walked away.

The demigods were dancing and singing to the same ABBA song they've been obsessing with ever since last year. Apollo smiled, thinking of how Percy would hum that song whenever she was distracted. He walked past her bestest friend, Annabeth Chase; smiling like that, leaning on a boy and cracking jokes, she looked like a completely different person from how she behaved when she was working as architect in Olympus—always so uptight and serious. 

Nearing his brother Hermes, Apollo chuckled when he saw his face. Poor Hermes didn't have a thought behind his eyes, he just glanced away while Demeter and Ares kept talking to him furiously, while Dionysus stood right beside them with a serious expression.

‘My Katie is a good girl.’ Demeter boasted. ‘I don't want that Trant boy anywhere near her!’

Hermes sighed. ‘Travis, you mean.’

‘And I don't approve of Clarisse's relationship with your other son, whatever his name is!’ Ares pronounced.

‘Isn’t Clarisse like, nineteen?’ Hermes frowned, sipping his nectar mindlessly.

Ares crossed his arms in front of his arms. ‘So?’

‘Isn't that a little late to worry about who she dates?’

‘Well,’ Ares started, voice a pitch higher, ‘I never had to care about that before that good-for-nothing son of yours stepped in!’

Apollo made his better efforts not to laugh. That was funny when it didn’t include him being beaten out of existence by Uncle Poseidon. Yet, he should feel sympathy for his fellow… His fellow dating-a-Olympian’s-daughter friend? Maybe they should start a club, maybe Uncle Hades would enjoy having someone to talk with beside his brothers, and Apollo wouldn't complain about having a Big Three ally.

‘Ares, I don't think this is the way to approach 21st century parenting, you know?’ Hermes rolled his eyes. ‘The whole “not letting my daughter date"’ went out of fashion after World War II.’

‘I still don't trust that brat of yours, he's up to something!’

Demeter then was quick to add: ‘The other one too!’ She pointed out. ‘He also has a terrible diet. I cannot imagine what his intestines look like with that amount of sugar he eats.’

Like the words had been carried by the wind, Hermes simply nodded and then turned to their younger brother. ‘What about you? Are any of my kids dating your son?’

Dionysus smiled and shook his head. ‘Oh, no. Thankfully not!’ Dionysus raised his Diet Coke to the sky. ‘I believe he's seeing one of my maenads. I just love seeing someone who's not me getting a lecture.’

Hermes sneered, and this time Apollo laughed and made sure Hermes would hear.

‘Shouldn't you be with your kids?’ Mentally, Hermes inquired.

‘I am.’ Apollo answered, picturing in Hermes mind an image of another version of him playing with the kids.

‘If you three would excuse me, I'll go talk to Apollo.’ Naturally as breathing, Hermes dismissed everyone and walked away. ‘Whatever it is, don't do it.’

‘C'mon, where is my free spirited brother who'd help me in the craziest quests?’

‘My limit is whatever the distance between my pretty face and uncle's Trident.’ Hermes grunted. ‘Where is Percy?’

‘Don't worry, she's with Nico di Angelo.’

‘Your son's crush?’

‘Isn't it lovely that her little, uh, shadow is my Will's crush?’

Even if there was a glitter of endearment in his eyes, Hermes pretended to be annoyed. ‘It's almost as if they're hormonal teenagers.’

‘It’s romantic!’ Apollo sighed.

‘If you say so.’ Hermes retorted. ‘What do you want?’

‘Oh, I did not come here with demands.’ Apollo hummed. ‘I just assumed that my little brother would help me give my beautiful maiden a nice birthday night, you know? Just making sure her dad doesn't notice if she goes missing for an hour or two.’ 

‘Are you crazy!?’ Hermes exhaled. ‘Everyone is here, and they'll notice if the hero of Olympus simply vanishes.*’

‘I know you could buy me thirty minutes. Then thirty minutes more. And then a little longer, I promise we'll be back before 10A.M.’

‘You said the same last time.’ Hermes groaned.

‘You know I can't lie. Just one hour.’

‘You can if you believe in your lie. Thirty-five minutes.’

‘Forty-five.’

‘Forty. Last offer.’

‘Deal. You're the best, brother.’

‘That someday will get me fucked up.’

[myazael]

In WTHB, has Percy ever been invited to join the hunters of Artemis? And if so, how did Apollo react?

Yup!!! A few times.

Apollo HATED that idea, to say the least.

[myazael]

[myazael]

I almost forgor, here's a part of the manynette requests on Patreon I hadn't posted. since we're in the part of feralnette where she's got fucked up eyeballs sometimes I can post this without it being spoilers <3 yay <3

[myazael]

Word Games

“Bloody machine stupide,” Marinette hissed as she not quite slammed her phone down on the countertop in disgust.  If she could strangle a phone, she would.  She had to consciously, painfully, force her hands not to curl like she was strangling an imaginary neck.  She was in public.  There were quite a few people in the café with her, some, like the man next to her, were extremely sexy, and she did not need sexy people giving her those kinds of looks.  She wanted them to give her a different kind of looks.  The kinds of looks you don’t give insane people.

Clearly, playing Wordle while waiting for her chronically late friend to arrive for their coffee catch up was the worst mistake she'd made since... the night before… and a few hours before that… and a few hours before that.  The occurrence and frequency of her mistakes was not the point.  The point was this word was clearly some obscure word long forgotten in the English language.  An arcane word.  Arcane!  See, she knew English.  Despite what this pretentious game indicated.

She looked around her quickly, just in case her friend had appeared quietly and she had a completely innocent excuse to put the phone away, though the likelihood of her friend doing anything quietly was exceptionally unlikely.  Unfortunately, there was no excuse to cling to.  But what there was, was the sexy man, who had been there since shortly after she arrived, scrolling on some app.

She could ask him… it would be an excuse to speak with him… but the excuse would be that she’s an idiot, and that was not exactly how she wanted to start a potential relationship.  She already had to fight against people thinking she was an airhead because she was a female and in fashion, she didn’t need to add this in.

She glared intently at the phone as if the power of her stare could force the letters to appear before her eyes.  However, after several minutes of giving the phone her best intimidating stare, the answer had the audacity of not appearing to her.  But she was not going to let this inanimate object defeat her.

She heaved a frustrated sigh and turned toward the man next to her.  “Excuse me,” she started curtly, too frustrated to ask in a more flirty manner.  This was about answers, not dates.

The man looked up immediately, eye wide with surprise.  His eyes flashed brightly and his lips lifted in a hint of a smile for a few seconds before he shook his head and furrowed his brows in confusion remembering her previous tone.  “Um, yes?”

 “I swear I’m not dumb,” she promised.  She softened her tone, or at least tried, it ended up coming out only slightly softer because no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t restrain her frustration and shove it down.

“Okay…” he answered, brows furrowing even deeper at her statement.  “I didn’t mean to imply you were?”

“No, not you, this!” She groaned and shoved her phone in his face.  “I’m absolutely stuck, and I swear I’m not as stupid as this is making me feel.”

He blinked at the phone taking in the game, five guesses in, a good amount of letters eliminated, two letters confirmed, and one letter in place.  He whistled lowly.  “High stakes.”

“Right!” she exclaimed throwing her hands out in exasperation, nearly dropping the phone.  “Almost all of the consonants have been eliminated and the ones left don’t make any sense.”  She glowered at her phone, trying again to intimidate it into revealing its secrets, missing the amused smile that spread on his lips.  “This is so frustrating.  It’s making me feel stupid.  I’m not stupid!  I can think of at least 10 words off the top of my head that would work in French.”

“Maybe they have a French version?” he offered.

“They do!  And I kill it in that one.”  She pouted at the phone.  “I look like I don’t even know English.  I’m fluent, damnit!”

He chuckled and shook his head.  “Don’t worry.  My brother can’t do it to save his life, and English is his native language.  He won’t even try anymore.”

She looked over at him, her eyes wide and pleading.  “Do you have any ideas? … please,” she tacked on quickly. 

He was so lost in her eyes, it took him a few seconds to register what she said and compose himself.  “Isn't that cheating?” he teased.

Marinette gasped in exaggerated horror.  “NO!  It's...” she took in a breath and let it out, staring at nothing as she worked to come up with a response.  “It’s utilizing my environmental resources,” she finally settled on with a decisive nod.

He burst out laughing and adjusted in his seat so he could lean closer to her.  “That sounds like military speak for cheating.”

“Well, I'm not military,” she scoffed with a smile, “so it's just an accurate description the situation.”

“Right,” he nodded, his lips split in a massive smile.  “Obviously.”

“Obviously,” she agreed.  She met his gaze for a few breaths then redirected her eyes to her phone.  “But what isn’t obvious, is the answer to this.”

He watched her for another moment then looked at her phone.  “Right.  Okay.  There’s an e and a u…the n is in the middle.  No t, no s, no l, no r…”

She suddenly perked up.  “How about ‘hinge’?”  Her eyes searched the letters at the bottom to confirm it would work.

He searched the letters as well, nodding more rapidly the longer he looked.  “That could work,” he agreed.

“Okay,” she nodded with determination.  “Let’s do this.  Wish us luck.”  He nodded back and edged closer to her so he could watch her phone over her shoulder.  She entered it and grasped her phone so tightly, her knuckles turned white before tapping Enter.  The letters shook for a second but did not turn green.  Instead, the word ‘ENNUI’ flashed at the top of the screen.

“What.  The.  Hell?” she growled, enunciating each word harshly.  “That’s not English!  That’s French!  That’s a French word!”  She had been staring at the letters for a few seconds before she was brought out of it by chuckling over her shoulder.

"Don't laugh!" she exclaimed before twisting just enough to smack his chest.  "It isn't funny," she groused dramatically.  

“It's a little funny,” he countered.

She huffed and glared back at her screen.  “I cannot believe… THAT WAS ONE OF THE WORDS I WAS THINKING ABOUT!” she whisper screeched.  “That was one of the French words I thought would work.  You can’t… English can’t just steal other languages’ words.”

He took a drink of his coffee with a grimace.  “That’s… that’s kind of what English is.  It’s really just a bunch of words stolen from just about every other language in existence, all standing on each other under an anorak masquerading as a real language.”  He nudged her with a sympathetic smile.  “I’m sorry you didn’t get it.”

The genuineness in his voice instantly brought her out of her funk.  She shrugged and gave him a small smile.  “It’s just a game.  I really appreciate your help, though.  Even if it didn’t work out so well.”

They continued to stare into each other’s eyes for a few seconds before he finally looked away with a quiet clearing of his throat.  He glanced back, eyes settling on her phone.  “They have other games you know.  Have you played some of their other games?  They can be fun too… unless you have other plans.”

“Oh no,” she assured him quickly.  “I’m just meeting my friend here, but she’s running late, so I have time.  Which games do you recommend?”  She held her phone out for him to see.

“I’m Tim, by the way,” he held his hand out for her.

She beamed in response, leaning closer as she shook his hand.  “Hi, Tim.  It’s really nice to meet you.  I’m…”

“Marinette!” Stephanie called from the doorway as she rushed into the café.  “Oh my God!  I’m so sorry!  I got caught up in… Okay, I overslept and then I couldn’t just leave with my hair looking like that.  But I am sor…” she froze and blinked at Marinette and Tim.  “Oh!  You met already!  Awesome.  Job done.  I can go back to bed.  Enjoy the date!” she called over her shoulder, already pulling the ponytail holder out of her hair.  “I expect details later!”

“You said you wanted to meet up!” Marinette exclaimed after her.

Stephanie turned in the doorway with a cocky smirk.  “I said I wanted to hook you up,” she corrected.  Her eyes darted over to Tim.  “Didn’t even have to be here to do it either.”  She turned to Tim.  “See I told you I did my best work asleep.  And you doubted me,” she tutted and with a wink, she disappeared through the door.

Marinette huffed a laugh and turned toward Tim.  She looked at him for a few seconds before she perked up in her seat, eyes brightening.  “Oh!  You’re Tim!  That Tim!  She has been talking you up for weeks.”

He quirked his head to the side and studied her for a second then sighed with a smile.  “You must be the woman she wanted to set me up with.  She didn’t tell me anything about you.  Just told me I’d thank her.  I was honestly rather terrified to meet you.”  He watched her as she barked out a laugh, his eyes softening as she shook her head, eyes shining with mirth.

“That sounds like Steph,” she agreed.

She turned her smile on him and he felt his own smile widening.   “I think she’s right,” he finally stated, without any uncertainty.  “I should thank her.”

Marinette nodded in agreement.  “Oui, me too.”  She looked down then up shyly through her lashes.  “Did you want to move to a table?”

“I absolutely would,” he agreed then his eyes caught on the clock.  “Or, we can go somewhere else and get lunch… continue your games… or no games just talking.”

Marinette grinned at his offer.  “I love that idea.  Maybe we can talk now and play games later, but as a team.”

“I would love that,” he grinned back.  “But we absolutely have to plan how to get back at Steph for this.  We can’t let her win.”

“Oh absolutely,” she agreed with an adorable giggle as she passed through the door.  “I play to win.”

Tim watched her pass by him, his eyes fixed on her brilliant smile, mentally planning ways to win her heart.  “Me too,” he agreed quietly.

[myazael]

Business Schooled

Tim shoved his hands deep into his hoodie pockets, mostly to keep him from pulling out his phone again and looking at the cold case files on what is supposed to be his break.  He had already spent the last 18 hours staring at case files and now he knew he needed to step away… for the time it took to run down the street to his favorite neighborhood café and pick up some dinner… and tomorrow’s lunch and dinner.  Not because he planned on spending the next 30 hours focused on cold case files alone!  Just… in case that extremely unlikely situation occurred, he’d be prepared.  Though, honestly, it sounded like a great night to him.  He couldn’t think of a better way to spend it.

He took a seat at the bar as he waited for his food to come out.  He should have confirmed the food was ready instead of trusting the time they gave him because if he had to listen to much more of the guy at the table next to him blather on about the immense benefits of the tax cuts for the ‘job creators’, he was going to do Damian a favor and ram his head into the bar hard enough to cause a concussion.

Unfortunately for the man, the woman he was on a date with wasn’t buying his pompous pontifications either.  In fact, her face was pulled tight into an annoyed grimace while she was looking at him, but she would look up whenever a server would pass or interrupt them and she would give them a kind smile, lighting up her face and highlighting her gorgeous features.  “Now,” she started tiredly, “I realize I’m not an economist, I’m just saying the benefits seem extremely limited in who actually sees them.  Really, it’s only…”

The man scoffed at her with the patronizing tone of a parent explaining that water is wet to a young child.  “You just don’t understand the policies.  The effect can be a bit complex for some people to understand.”

“Well, lucky for me, understanding complexity isn’t something I have to worry about tonight,” she clipped back.

Tim chuckled loud enough for the man to hear, though he seriously doubted the guy understood the dig at him.  He winked at the woman when she looked over at him with an appreciative smirk.  He had to deal with idiots like this guy constantly at Wayne Enterprises.  They thought they knew better than everyone else in the room because they had a degree… and no common sense or compassion.

He wanted to say something to put the guy in his place, but it wasn’t his business or his fight, not to mention, she was saying all the same things he would, or at least she was trying to.  It seemed like she would say all the same things if the guy would let her speak.  But the guy wasn’t.  And if he had to listen much more of this dudebro, he was going to pour the guy’s drink on him, and not even pretend it was an accident.  Fortunately for him, the hostess called his name and handed over his order at that moment, so he didn’t have to listen to him impress nobody but himself any longer.

“Look, economics is one of those things everyone thinks they understand, but not everybody can.  There are a lot of factors that effect it and that it effects,” the man droned on.  He swirled his wine as he spoke and leaned back in his chair as though he were holding court.  “It is difficult for people who haven’t studied it to identify those factors, and they end up embarrassing themselves by saying policies that clearly work, don’t.”

“I can identify failure very well though.  Like this date… and your personality,” she mumbled the last bit into her wine glass before taking a hefty gulp.

“I just think,” he continued as though she hadn’t spoken, “that maybe the impacts of the policies are a bit beyond you.”  He smiled in a way Tim was sure was supposed to be kindly but actually came across as pompous.  “You like that little fashion thing you do.  Maybe you should focus on that kind of thing.  I mean it isn’t very complex, is it?”

Tim sighed heavily.  He was so close.  He was so close to making it home to his cold cases.  And then dudebro had to go and say that.  “The lady's right, you know,” he interrupted.

The man bristled instantly.  He gave Tim a once over, his lip curling more the more he took in, evolving into a full-on sneer by the time he got to Tim’s unlaced Converse.  “What would you know about it.  This is a bit more complex than you would get.  Did you even graduate from high school?”

Tim raised an eyebrow and sighed heavily again.  “I didn’t actually, Brad.  Is your name Brad?”

“It isn’t,” he snapped. 

“I’m going to call you Brad,” he continued as though he hadn’t heard him, Tim was sure he wouldn’t appreciate the parallel, but the woman likely did.  “But, to answer your question, Brad, I understand that she's exactly correct.  The scope of who is affected by those policies is extremely limited, although I will grant you that the benefits those limited number receive is staggeringly significant.”  He dropped his takeout bag on the middle of the table and pulled a chair from the table next to them, spinning it as he pulled to sit on it backward.

“The problem is the benefits don't distribute.  Trickle down if you will,” he motioned vaguely at the term he was sure the man would be familiar with.  “Those people who received the benefits don't share what they receive, as the policy claims they will.  Rich people hoard their wealth.  They don't share it.  That’s a fact that has been proven again and again… and again and again… and again, confirmed by even the most conservative research groups, because the evidence is so staggeringly stacked, it’s impossible to spin.  So, it actually punishes far more people than it benefits, all based off of the assumption that the wealth will be shared, an assumption that not even the policy writers actually believe.”

The man glowered at him anger radiating off him at not only being challenged, but succinctly and impertinently so.  “That's a very limited interpretation of the policies and really the only people who don't benefit are small business owners, who perhaps should be managing their businesses better anyway.  And if it's so easy to drive them out of business perhaps they shouldn't be in the business in the first place,” he sneered.

The woman stiffened instantly, eyes narrowing.  Tim started to speak but instantly stopped and leaned back slightly with a smirk when she spoke, her voice low and cold.  “The only people who don’t benefit are the 98% of the country who don’t own conglomerates built off of their parent’s money and exploiting workers.”  She stood up and threw her napkin on the table.  “And so forget those small businesses?  They should just go away because they can’t or won’t exploit their workers and have the funding from mommy and daddy to undercut other businesses long enough to drive them out of business then drive their own prices up because demand is now exclusively with them?”

The man ran his tongue along his teeth, his expression as he watched her now utter disdain.  “Well, maybe if they can't manage their business correctly they should.  And that approach?  That’s called business, sweetheart.  A solid economic approach to build a business.”

“And if you can’t show an ounce of emotional intelligence,” she spit out.

“Or actual intelligence,” Tim added.

“… then maybe you shouldn’t inflict your presence on others,” she finished before turning and walking away.

The man sputtered; mouth dropped in shock at her reaction.  “But we haven’t gotten our food yet.”

“I’d rather starve than finish this dinner,” she hissed and continued walking toward the door.

“And just for the record,” Tim added, leaning close to the man as he did, “I may have dropped out of high school, but I run Wayne Enterprises and I can assure you, you would not be welcome.”  He turned and followed the woman out of the restaurant without looking back, a beaming smirk on his lips knowing full well the man was gaping after him.

When he pushed through the door, he looked around for the woman, but thankfully she hadn’t gone far, just to the end of the block where she was looking utterly out of place on the dirty Gotham street in her clearly designer outfit.  It was a safer part of Gotham, respectable even, but there was little chance she wouldn’t get mugged if she stayed out for very long.

He edged toward her slowly so he wouldn’t scare her.  “Hey,” he started slowly.  He waited until she responded with a smile, and let out a small, relieved breath before continuing.  “I wanted to make sure you have a safe way home.”

“I do,” she nodded.  She held up her phone.  “I’m just about to order an Uber.  There’s a bit of a wait but I’m willing to risk Gotham’s streets to get away from that man.”  She glared at the restaurant but looked back at him with a soft smile.  “Thank you for checking.  And thank you for,” she motioned vaguely toward the restaurant, “the save.”

Tim shot a bright smile back at her.  “I don’t think you needed the save.  You were doing just fine.  I think I said all the same things you did, just in ‘white male’ voice.”

She snorted and bowed her head as she chuckled.  The brilliant smile she gave him when she looked back up made his breath falter.  “I think guys like that never hear any other kind of voice,” she joked.  She met his gaze for a few seconds before shaking her head lightly like she was trying to reset.  “This isn’t what Gotham is always like, is it?”  He raised an eyebrow at her, urging a bit more explanation.  “This is my first date here, a blind date,” she added insistently, “and…”  She sighed and massaged her forehead.  “My friends warned me about the henchmen.  I was watching out for that.  Is everyone else like that?”  She motioned aggressively toward the restaurant again.

Tim grimaced and bobbed his head to the side.  “Business bros and henchmen are both pretty prevalent,” he admitted.  “But we’re not all that bad.  As things go, he was pretty bad.  I’m impressed you lasted as long as you did with him.”

She huffed with an adorable wrinkle of her nose.  “I would have walked away a long time before that, but I was starving.  I was in a design frenzy all day and accidentally skipped lunch… and breakfast,” she admitted guiltily.  Her stomach grumbled right at that moment as if to prove her point.

Tim chuckled.  Getting lost in a personal obsession was something he could definitely understand… intimately.  “Design frenzy?” he prodded.

She hummed in confirmation.  “I’m a designer,” she motioned to her jumpsuit.

“You did this?” Tim asked.  He examined her outfit closely.  Close up, it still looked like it was designer made.  “You’re very good.”  He studied the lines and the craftsmanship, his fingers reaching out to trace the path his eyes forged, but he stopped himself before he could make contact and dropped his hands instantly.  “Really, it’s impeccable.”

She looked down shyly.  “Thank you.”

Tim looked down at the bag in his hand, then back up to her through his lashes, then the laundromat across the street behind her.  “You know…” he started slowly.  “I bought extra for leftovers.  If you want…”

“Oh, I couldn’t…” she demurred quickly.

“I insist.  I can’t let you think all Gotham men are like that,” he motioned vaguely toward the restaurant.  “That all assumes you don’t mind a bit less ‘atmosphere’,” he motioned behind her, “and like chicken tikka masala.”

She stared at him and glanced down at the bag in his hand longingly.  “That’s my favorite,” she said quietly.

Tim grinned hopefully.  “Well, that sounds like a sign.”

She looked up at him studying his eyes for a few moments, her smile widening the longer she looked.  “I think it is,” she agreed.  “Lead the way.”

Tim held out his elbow for her.  “Gladly.  I’m Tim, by the way.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Tim.”  Her hand squeezed around his elbow.  “I’m Marinette.  Marinette Dupain Cheng.”

“Marinette,” he repeated, letting the name linger as he said it.  “I think I must be very lucky to have come down to eat when I did.”

She chuckled and looked up through her lashes.  “You’re lucky?  I’m the one getting a free dinner and much better dinner companion.”  They crossed the street, arms brushing against each other’s, shy gazes between them.  “I’m not interrupting your night, am I?”

“In the best way possible,” he assured her.  He opened the door for her and ushered her through before him.  “I was just going to do some unpaid work.  This is much more enjoyable than the night I had planned.”

She jumped up onto a table near the windows, sitting cross-legged and making room for him to join her.  She looked at him with a brilliant smile.  “Good food and good company.  It sounds like a great night.”

Tim smiled and sat next to her.  He fished out the two forks and handed one over to her.  “Yeah, it does.  Best way to spend it I can think of.”

[myazael]

Does Apollo leave the world in the dark when he wants to? Or just the Romans?

Sometimes he simply doesn’t raise the sun. Like, in general. No sun for everyone. Dark everywhere. Drives Annabeth crazy everytime.

[myazael]

"Nine months in my womb making me suffer... and he looks like his stupid dad!" But plot twist, Yuuri is a thankful fan ;D

[Patreon] [Twitter]

[myazael]

So Hector is really a lot like his father huh, maybe that's why they clash a lot?

🤣 the apple never falls far from the tree I guess

[myazael]

Hey do you think that Zeus ever looks over at Athena and Perse talking, or playing, and a small, regretful part of him for, for maybe a second or two, see Metis and Athena instead?

Do you think that's part of the reason he causes Perse to fade? That he can't stand the reminder of what could have been?

oh that hurts but i think zeus is too paranoid of that one prophecy that states Metis would have a son that would overthrow zeus to think about the what ifs

Hera on the other hand, she would look at Athena and Perse or Amphitrite and Perse and wonder why couldn't it be her? why couldn't her daughters revere her the way Perse reveres her two mothers?

zeus wants Perse to fade for other reasons, reasons we'll get into during the trojan war chapters but in mythology, zeus basically uses the Trojan war to cut down the population of humanity and wipe out the remaining demigods (if his children died as well, then whatever) because he didn't want to be overthrown

in this fic, Perse is the goddess of demigods so if one of her strongest domain crumbles, so does her power (cause we all know zeus is basically providing the power ups with all his affairs) and if Perse loses power, she's not as large of a threat

[myazael]

[myazael]

Chapter seven poster 👍

Im going to sleep before i die, sorry for any mistakes because Im REALLY tired

[myazael]

Happy 6th Anniversary to my Scarlet Lady AU! Though you are done, you live on in my heart U_U

[myazael]

As a treat for the 6th Anniversary of Scarlet Lady, I finally drew up that little fighting montage that I talked about way back in the Finale. You know, the one that goes between this page and this page? Enjoy!

Cute he thought he'd get anywhere.

And for our live commentator: Fenice!

(Nathaniel is still bitter about Hawkmoth stealing his OC for his akumasona.)

Just nip THAT little problem in the bud.

Hey, at least you finally got hit somewhere other than your face! 😗

When the nice kids choose violence, you're screwed.

"No."

[myazael]

Curiosity killed the cat (but satisfaction brought it back)

chapter 3

Summary-

When Marinette finds out that she is adopted, she tracks down her Biological aunt. Who happens to live Gotham, the place she swore she wouldn't go. Well, Gotham just gained a new vigilante - Chaos.

<<Previous next>>

Chapter 3 : Hello, Gotham

(Word count : 829 )

Looking around at her now empty room, Marientte felt nostalgic. Same time tomorrow, she would be in Gotham, arranging her things in her new room in her penthouse in the safest part of Gotham, which once belonged to Her biological parents. They were well off, and left quite a fortune in her name, including the penthouse which was apparently her childhood home.

After having a long overdue talk with her godmother, she learnt quite a lot about her family.

Her father was supposed to be the heir to a famous fashion company, The Draper. (When she heard that her grandmother is one of her idols, Marinette couldn't stop fangirling.) But unfortunately her father had been disowned by his mother, for he refused to marry the woman his mother wanted him to marry, and instead married Diane, her mother.

Diane came from a middle class family, apparently she was the illegitimate child of some underboss. Diane’s mother had committed suicide when diane was young, and her father was obviously out of the picture. Her step father however, continuously abused her mother when she was alive, and after her death, abused Diane and her sister, Selina.

Selina was definitely alive, but Sabine said she had fallen out of touch with her many years ago, when Marinette was still just a child.

Now, Marinette decided, she would reach out to both her aunt, and her grandmother, and make amends.

Finally ready to leave, Marinette made her way downstairs.

“Maman ! Papa !” She called. “I’m ready to leave!”

Immediately, her parents were next to her, pampering her, making sure she had everything.

“You promise to call twice a day ?” her mother asked her.

“Yes maman” Marinette said sincerely, guilty about lying.

“Marinette, we are going to miss you so much,” her father said, his eyes growing misty.

“Papa, I'll be back before u know it. It's just for the next 2 years !” Marinette said, touched at her father's confession, but slightly exasperated.

“I know”, her father said, the ‘I'll still miss you too’ left unsaid, but it was understood.

“My baby is all grown up,” her mother said, and Marinette sighed, thinking 'here we go again', without any real annoyance.

______________________________________________________________

After another 10 minutes of her parents smothering her, Marinette finally left her home.She still had six hours for her flight, and she had to meet up with the miracle court. Well, a part of the miracle court.

“Marinette!” Chloe exclaimed as she walked into Chloe's room, “you look so stunning!”

“You look so pretty, Mari-hime,” Kagami said, looking up from her phone without missing a beat.

Blushing, Marinette thanked both of them.

Marinette was in fact very proud of the dress she was wearing, it took quite some time for her to design. To ‘celebrate’ her last day in Paris, she decided to dress up.

Her dress was a spaghetti-strap v neck, coming till just above her knee. It was a dark, midnight blue, with golden glitter at the hem of the dress. At the neckline, she had sewn tiny white rhinestones. The part of the dress which took her the longest was its embroidery.

She had used a thin gold thread, and embroidered little stars, in an array of constellations.

She paired the dress with a black scarf, which had a moon at one end and the sun at the other end.

Slipping off her surprisingly comfortable heels, she sat on the couch opposite Chloe.

For the next one hour, she talked to them about her plans, and what was to be done in case of an emergency.

After promising to call daily, and a very tearful goodbye, Marinette made her way to the airport.

______________________________________________________________

On the aeroplane, Marinette felt quite nervous, her mind racing with all the different things that could happen.

She knew that if she was treading down a path which led to the end of the world, Bunnyx would let her know, and she and Bunnyx would work together to fix it, like they always did.

That mere thought calmed her down enough, for her to close her eyes without vivid scenes of destruction of Paris, her family and her friends dying flashing through her eyes, a reminder of the responsibility she held, which was crushing her, and god did she wish she had someone she could share it with.

Sure she had the miracle court, but everyone of them looked up to her, she was their leader. The Order of the Guardians couldn't take her seriously, she wasn't trained or chosen the way they were as if that was more than the things she did to protect Paris for the past 5 years, and so she was lesser than them, nevermind the fact that she was the grand guardian.

She craved for someone to see her as their equal. Honestly, Marinette was exhausted.

Maybe, just maybe, Gotham would provide her a fresh slate.

Slowly, with a new hope ignited in her, Marinette fell asleep.

______________________________________________________________

<<Previous next>>

A.N. Want to know when the next chapter is posted ? Let me know and I'll tag you in the next chapter :)

(Short filler chapter, but i hope you like !)

Taglist -

@radmusicstrawberry @trashyangelic

[myazael]

@anotheroceanid

I just finished the latest chapter for my Athenide fic! And I made a chapter cover for Truth and Loyalties first meeting.

Fic link