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missmalice202 · 4 years

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Designing Your Melody: Chapter 07 - Notes

Chapter 01 - Chapter 06

Giving her dress form one final once-over, Marinette decided that everything was perfect. She had finished her outfit for Jagged Stone a few days ago, but that didn’t stop her from agonizing whether or not it was truly done. Maybe there was something she had missed, or an aspect of the entire design that could have been improved upon. Quite frankly, she had been driving herself a little crazy looking for anything that wasn’t absolutely perfect. Her obsessive behavior got to the point that on Saturday night, a full day after she had “finished” it, when her parents had come up to let her know that dinner was ready they had found her standing in the middle of her room, staring unblinking at her creation. In the same exact position she had been in hours before when her mother had brought her up a lunch tray that had been left untouched on her desk.

Deciding that enough was enough, they had demanded that she cover up the dress form and take a break. Worrying about it wouldn’t do any good.

So, Marinette had grudgingly listened to her parents’ advice and left it alone.

After an agonizing weekend of trying to ignore her hidden masterpiece, Monday morning finally rolled around – the day she was due to deliver her creation to the record company for Jagged Stone’s photo shoot.

With utmost care, she removed the sheet covering up the outfit. She laid the custom embroidered garment bag she had prepared on her chaise lounge. Returning to the dress form, she gingerly removed the jacket, inspecting it one last time for any loose threads or stray pieces of lint. Black sequins sparkling in the light streaming from her windows, she carried it over to the garment bag and placed it on its hanger, smoothing the purple satin lapels to prevent any wrinkling from transit. She gave the black and purple military style cuffs a quick tug to ensure they hung properly in the bag.

Returning to the form one last time, she carefully removed the yellow snakeskin pants that hung there. Grabbing a second hanger, she clipped the pants delicately and slipped them inside the garment bag with the jacket.

A final inspection was made before she zipped the bag closed and hung it up on the clothing rack next to her sewing station.

It filled her with immense pride to see her initials emblazed on that garment bag. Knowing that the entire world would soon see the product of her passion was a heady feeling indeed. She rolled her shoulders back to ease the tension that had gathered there. It was too late now to turn back.

Grabbing the garment bag and her little pink purse, she climbed down her trap door and left her parent’s bakery to make her delivery.

-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-

“I did it, Alya.” She said. “It’s out of my hands now.” Her hand gripped her cell phone as she strode through the lobby of Roth Records, her heels clicking a rapid tempo against marble floor.

“I’m so proud of you, girl. I can’t believe it! My BFF is Jagged Stone’s designer. I just can’t wait until I can see your clothes on billboards all across the city.”

She giggled loudly, the sound of it echoing through the lobby, catching the attention of a dark-haired man heading through the lobby on his way to the elevator bank, guitar case slung securely on his back. She was too focused on getting out of the building to notice him whip his head around, searching the surrounding area for the source of that clear peal of laughter. There was something about that voice that pricked his memory, but he couldn’t place where he had heard it before. Shaking his shaggy hair out of his face, he scanned the lobby one last time with his aquamarine eyes before gripping the strap of his guitar case and continuing on his way.

“Honestly, I can hardly believe it myself. When I delivered it to Ms. Rolling, I was so nervous I almost passed out. I don’t know why this is such a big deal for me. I wasn’t this nervous when I designed his album cover all those years ago. And I certainly wasn’t this stressed out over any of the other pieces I’ve made. What makes this so different?” she wondered as she made it to the entrance to the building.

“How about to celebrate your glorious success, I’ll treat you to lunch.” Marinette glanced at her watch before agreeing. “Good. I’ll meet you at that cute little café we went to with the boys a few weeks ago. It’s close to the record label, right?”

Marinette nodded before realizing that Alya couldn’t see the gesture through the phone. “Yeah, it’s right around the corner. I’ll see you there in 20 minutes?” After hearing confirmation from her friend, she hung up her phone, stuffed it back in her purse and walked down the street, looking forward to meeting her friend for a relaxed meal after the crazy couple of weeks she’d just endured.

-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-

Luka marched down halls of Roth Records, his impassive expression belying his irritation. It felt like he’d spent more time in this god forsaken building in the past week than he had at his own home, and he was getting a little tired of it.

For some unknown reason, he had been roped into some sort of power play between rock legend Jagged Stone and the CEO or Roth Records, Bob Roth. After he and Jagged had finished recording what the two musicians considered an award winning song, the CEO said that it wasn’t good enough and “would never sell”. The blowout after that conversation was having lasting repercussions and now there was tension between the two entertainment giants.

Jagged Stone was refusing to back down and sacrifice his “creative process” to make a “soulless, vanilla, cookie cutter money maker”. He knew what his demographic wanted and it pissed him off that even after all these years, Mr. Roth was still trying to undermine his talents to make a profit. The results spoke for themselves and Jagged would not sell out.

Roth on the other hand, was doing everything he could to mold the aged rocker into a package that he considered “hip and now” and was sabotaging any effort Jagged made to stay true to his carefully cultivated image.

Stuck in the middle of their cold war was Luka, who had done everything he could to stay out of their struggle for dominance. He kept his head down, did his recording sessions, and kept his opinions to himself. He just wanted to play the music he and Jagged created together.

He turned down the hall towards the recording studio he was due to meet his collaborator in when he suddenly found himself wearing someone else’s coffee order. He looked from the brown splatter covering the front of his white “Jagged Stone: World Tour” t-shirt to the unfortunate intern holding an empty to go cup in his hand.

“Oh my God, I am so sorry!” the timid intern cried as he looked around in a panic trying to find something he could use to help clean the guitarist up.

With a shake of his head, he assured the panicking boy that he wasn’t in trouble and that it wasn’t a big deal before walking away. Honestly, he just wanted this day to be over already so he could go home and just jam out by himself for a bit.

Footsteps echoing in the now empty hallway, he finally arrived at his destination. But before he could enter the sanctuary of the empty studio, he heard his name called from his left.

He watched as Jagged Stone’s agent approached him, her ever present tabled clutched tightly in her hands in a white knuckled grip.

“Good, I caught you before you got started, Luka.”

Her eyes widened as she took in his muddied appearance. “What the hell happened to you?”

He delicately peeled the coffee-soaked shirt away from his stomach, the shirt making a squelching sound as it clung to his skin. “I had a run in with the coffee gopher. Literally.”

She shook her head at his attempt at humor before tapping away at her tablet. “We’ve got some time before Jagged is done with his shoot. We’re running a bit behind because Mr. Roth found out he went behind his back and commissioned his own design to replace the one that the marketing team wanted to use. Why don’t you go to the dressing room and take that shirt off and I’ll get you a clean one?”

Not seeing any reason to object – especially since the coffee was starting to chill against his skin and was getting a bit sticky – he agreed.

Once in the dressing room, Penny disappeared to find him a replacement shirt.

Carefully setting his guitar on the counter, he removed his black riding jacket and hung it on the back of a chair. Peeling the soaked shirt over his head, he glanced at the mirror and froze. His eyes widened and he spun around quickly, dropping his wet shirt with a plop.

There, hanging on a hook on the wall, was a cream colored garment bag. However, it wasn’t the bag itself that had him rushing across the room. It was the three letters embroidered on the bag that had him so transfixed.

Reaching out his hand, he stoked his fingertip across the threads, calluses catching slightly. MDC. The same initials as those lazily scrawled on the paper still folded in his jacket pocket. The same initials that he had been obsessing over for the past few weeks. The initials of the designer of his dream outfit. The initials of his muse.

His heart pounded in his ears, for once drowning out the notes that endlessly played in his mind. Surely it couldn’t be a coincidence. How many designers had the initials “MDC” in Paris? He needed to know if his suspicions were true and he needed to know now.

He strode to the door of the dressing room and yanked it open, oblivious to the fact that he was still shirtless and sticky from residual coffee until he realized that he had scared Penny half to death by suddenly opening the door as she held up a hand to knock.

“I’ve got a shirt for you.” She offered the black garment to him, drawing his attention to the article she was holding. “You might want to put it on before you cause a stir around here.” She chuckled as he blushed and took the shirt from her.

“Can I ask you something,” came a muffled inquiry as he thrust his head into the shirt. “What’s that bag hanging up over there?”

Penny looked at the garment bag he had gestured toward. “Oh, that was Jagged Stone’s outfit for the photo shoot I was telling you about. You remember Jagged telling you about her the other day, don’t you? Why do you ask?”

Luka tried to remember the conversation he’d had regarding the designer Jagged had spoke so highly of. “What did he say her name was? M… Ma… Ma… Mary?”

Penny chuckled. “Her name is Marinette. She actually dropped that off for us a little bit ago. You may have passed her on your way in, now that I think about it.”

Luka couldn’t believe his luck. If she was who he thought she was, then he’d finally gotten her name. The first real lead to finding his mystery designer and it was finding out her name was ‘Marinette’. He smiled at his good fortune, unaware of the suspicious look Penny was giving him as she observed his pleased expression.

“Would you like to see what she made for Jagged?”

His head whipped up as he looked at her, eyes widening slightly in anticipation.

She laughed. “I take that as a yes.”

When they entered the studio where Jagged’s photo shoot was being held, Luka’s breath hitched as he took in the outfit that Jagged Stone was wearing. It was definitely hers. Even to his untrained eye, he could sense her style in every stitch. The way the jacket fell across the rocker’s slim shoulders, how it fell gracefully down his back, the way the tailoring made it seem almost fluid in the way the fabric moved. Everything about the design just screamed her.

As he watched the singer move from pose to pose as the photographer directed him, the song she had inspired inside Luka’s soul began crashing through his mind, once again driving him to distraction. With his fingers tapping out the notes on his left leg, he turned to Penny and asked her if he could get this “Marinette”’s contact information.

She’s a little surprised at the eagerness that Luka expresses in his question. She can’t recall a time that she’d ever really seen him express even a little bit of the passion he’s showing her now. But unfortunately, she has to deny his request.

“I’m sorry, Luka, but I can’t just give you that information. We keep the contact information of our employees - or in Marinette’s case, independent contractors – protected.”

Watching his face crumble in disappointment, she sighs. “I’ll tell you what I can do. I’ll contact Marinette and ask her permission to share her information with you.” He smiles a little before nodding his head.

Finally, finally he found her. Now, he just has to sit back and wait to hear from Penny. Feeling considerably lighter and with his fingers itching to press the strings of his guitar against the fretboard, he heads back to the dressing room where he had left his guitar unattended in his haste to see his Marinette’s designs in the flesh.

Chapter 08

*Thanks again for taking the time to enjoy my story. I appreciate all your likes and reblogs. I was so excited for this chapter that I just had to get it out and posted as soon as I could (and considering it’s 4am here, that should tell ya something). Luka knows Marinette’s name! Well, her first name at least. What’s he gonna do with this information? We’ll have to find out. Just keep in mind that I’m not going to make it easy for these two. mwahahaha!

Until next time, my lovelies XOXO*

#lukanette #lukanette february #mlvalentines2k20 #ml fanfic #lukanette fic #luka couffaine #marinette dupain cheng #he's a hot mess #giving him some breadcrumbs

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lesbianrewrites · 7 years

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Blood of Olympus - Chapter 42

*disclaimer* This is a project done for fun, and none of these characters/works belong to me. I do not claim to own any of the material on this page. This is a Lesbian edit of The Blood of Olympus by Rick Riordan. Chapters will be posted every day at 10am EST. Google doc version can be found here. The chapter can also be found under the cut. Enjoy!

PIPER’S DAD USED TO SAY that being in the airport didn’t count as visiting a city. Piper felt the same way about sewers.

From the port to the Acropolis, she didn’t see anything of Athens except dark, putrid tunnels. The snake men led them through an iron storm grate at the docks, straight into their underground lair, which smelled of rotting fish, mould and snakeskin.

The atmosphere made it hard to sing about summertime and cotton and easy living, but Piper kept it up. If she stopped for longer than a minute or two, Kekrops and his guards started hissing and looking angry.

‘I don’t like this place,’ Annabeth murmured. ‘Reminds me of when I was underneath Rome.’

Kekrops hissed with laughter. ‘Our domain is much older. Much, much older.’

Annabeth slipped her hand into Penny’s, which made Piper feel downhearted. She wished Jessica were with her. Heck, she’d even settle for Lorena … though maybe she wouldn’t have held her hand. Lorena’s hands tended to burst into flames when she was nervous.

Piper’s voice echoed through the tunnels. As they travelled further into the lair, more snake people gathered to hear her. Soon they had a procession following behind them – dozens of gemini all swaying and slithering.

Piper had lived up to her granddad’s prediction. She had learned the song of the snakes – which turned out to be a George Gershwin number from 1935. So far she had even kept the snake king from biting, just like in the old Cherokee story. The only problem with that legend: the warrior who learned the snake song had to sacrifice his wife for the power. Piper didn’t want to sacrifice anyone.

The vial of physician’s cure was still wrapped in its chamois cloth, tucked in her belt pouch. She hadn’t had time to consult with Jessica and Lorena before she left. She just had to hope they would all be reunited on the hilltop before anyone needed the cure. If one of them died and she couldn’t reach them …

Just keep singing, she told herself.

They passed through crude stone chambers littered with bones. They climbed slopes so steep and slippery it was nearly impossible to keep their footing. At one point, they passed a warm cave the size of a gymnasium filled with snake eggs, their tops covered with a layer of silver filaments like slimy Christmas tinsel.

More and more snake people joined their procession. Slithering behind her, they sounded like an army of football players shuffling with sandpaper on their cleats.

Piper wondered how many gemini lived down here. Hundreds, maybe thousands.

She thought she heard her own heartbeat echoing through the corridors, getting louder and louder the deeper they went. Then she realized the persistent boom ba-boom was all around them, resonating through the stone and the air.

I wake. A woman’s voice, as clear as Piper’s singing.

Annabeth froze. ‘Oh, that’s not good.’

‘It’s like Tartarus,’ Penny said, her voice edgy. ‘You remember … his heartbeat. When he appeared –’

‘Don’t,’ Annabeth said. ‘Just don’t.’

‘Sorry.’ In the light of his sword, Penny’s face was like a large firefly – a hovering, momentary smudge of brightness in the dark.

The voice of Gaia spoke again, louder: At last.

Piper’s singing wavered.

Fear washed over her, as it had in the Spartan temple. But the gods Phobos and Deimos were old friends to her now. She let the fear burn inside her like fuel, making her voice even stronger. She sang for the snake people, for her friends’ safety. Why not for Gaia, too?

Finally they reached the top of a steep slope, where the path ended in a curtain of green goo.

Kekrops faced the demigods. ‘Beyond this camouflage is the Acropolis. You must remain here. I will check that your way is clear.’

‘Wait.’ Piper turned to address the crowd of gemini. ‘There is only death above. You will be safer in the tunnels. Hurry back. Forget you saw us. Protect yourselves.’

The fear in her voice channelled perfectly with the charmspeak. The snake people, even the guards, turned and slithered into the darkness, leaving only the king.

‘Kekrops,’ Piper said, ‘you’re planning to betray us as soon as you step through that goo.’

‘Yes,’ he agreed. ‘I will alert the giants. They will destroy you.’ Then he hissed. ‘Why did I tell you that?’

‘Listen to the heartbeat of Gaia,’ Piper urged. ‘You can sense her rage, can’t you?’

Kekrops wavered. The end of his staff glowed dimly. ‘I can, yes. She is angry.’

‘She’ll destroy everything,’ Piper said. ‘She’ll reduce the Acropolis to a smoking crater. Athens – your city – will be utterly destroyed, your people along with it. You believe me, don’t you?’

‘I – I do.’

‘Whatever hatred you have for humans, for demigods, for Athena, we are the only chance to stop Gaia. So you will not betray us. For your own sake, and your people, you will scout the territory and make sure the way is clear. You will say nothing to the giants. Then you will return.’

‘That is … what I’ll do.’ Kekrops disappeared through the membrane of goo.

Annabeth shook her head in amazement. ‘Piper, that was incredible.’

‘We’ll see if it works.’ Piper sat down on the cool stone floor. She figured she might as well rest while she could.

The others squatted next to her. Penny handed her a canteen of water.

Until she took a drink, Piper hadn’t realized how dry her throat was. ‘Thanks.’

Penny nodded. ‘You think the charm will last?’

‘I’m not sure,’ she admitted. ‘If Kekrops comes back in two minutes with an army of giants, then no.’

The heartbeat of Gaia echoed through the floor. Strangely, it made Piper think of the sea – how the waves boomed along the cliffs of Santa Monica back home.

She wondered what her father was doing right now. It would be the middle of the night in California. Maybe he was asleep, or doing a late-night TV interview. Piper hoped he was in his favourite spot: the porch off the living room, watching the moon over the Pacific, enjoying some quiet time. Piper wanted to think he was happy and content right now … in case they failed.

She thought about her friends in the Aphrodite cabin at Camp Half-Blood. She thought about her cousins in Oklahoma, which was odd, since she’d never spent much time with them. She didn’t even know them very well. Now she was sorry about that.

She wished she’d taken more advantage of her life, appreciated things more. She would always be grateful for her family aboard the Argo II – but she had so many other friends and relatives she wished she could see one last time.

‘Do you guys ever think about your families?’ she asked.

It was a silly question, especially on the cusp of a battle. Piper should have been focused on their quest, not distracting her friends.

But they didn’t chide her.

Penny’s gaze became unfocused. Her lower lip quivered. ‘My mom … I – I haven’t even seen her since Hera made me disappear. I called her from Alaska. I gave Coach Hedge some letters to deliver to her. I …’ Her voice broke. ‘She’s all I’ve got. Her and my stepdad, Paul.’

‘And Tegan,’ Annabeth reminded her. ‘And Grover. And –’

‘Yeah, of course,’ Penny said. ‘Thanks. I feel much better.’

Piper probably shouldn’t have laughed, but she was too full of nervousness and melancholy to hold it in. ‘What about you, Annabeth?’

‘My dad … my stepmom and stepbrothers.’ She turned the drakon-bone blade in her lap. ‘After all I’ve been through in the past year, it seems stupid that I resented them for so long. And my dad’s relatives … I haven’t thought about them in years. I have an uncle and cousin in Boston.’

Penny looked shocked. ‘You, with the Yankees cap? You’ve got family in Red Sox country?’

Annabeth smiled weakly. ‘I never see them. My dad and my uncle don’t get along. Some old rivalry. I don’t know. It’s stupid what keeps people apart.’

Piper nodded. She wished she had the healing powers of Asclepius. She wished she could look at people and see what was hurting them, then whip out her prescription pad and make everything better. But she guessed there was a reason Zeus kept Asclepius locked away in his underground temple.

Some pain shouldn’t be wished away so easily. It had to be dealt with, even embraced. Without the agony of the last few months, Piper never would have found her best friends. She never would’ve discovered her own courage. She certainly wouldn’t have had the guts to sing show tunes to the snake people under Athens.

At the top of the tunnel, the green membrane rippled.

Piper grabbed her sword and rose, prepared for a flood of monsters.

But Kekrops emerged alone.

‘The way is clear,’ he said. ‘But hurry. The ceremony is almost complete.’

Pushing through a curtain of mucus was almost as fun as Piper imagined.

She emerged feeling like she’d just rolled through a giant’s nostril. Fortunately, none of the gunk stuck to her, but still her skin tingled with revulsion.

Penny, Annabeth and she found themselves in a cool, damp pit that seemed to be the basement level of a temple. All around them, uneven ground stretched into darkness under a low ceiling of stone. Directly above their heads, a rectangular gap was open to the sky. Piper could see the edges of walls and the tops of columns, but no monsters … yet.

The camouflage membrane had closed behind them and blended into the ground. Piper pressed her hand against it. The area seemed to be solid rock. They wouldn’t be leaving the way they’d come.

Annabeth ran her hand along some marks on the ground – a jagged crow’s-foot shape as long as a human body. The area was lumpy and white, like stone scar tissue. ‘This is the place,’ she said. ‘Penny, these are the trident marks of Poseidon.’

Hesitantly, Penny touched the scars. ‘He must’ve been using his extra-extra-large trident.’

‘This is where he struck the earth,’ Annabeth said, ‘where he made a saltwater spring appear when he had the contest with my mom to sponsor Athens.’

‘So this is where the rivalry started,’ Penny said.

‘Yeah.’

Penny pulled Annabeth close and kissed her … long enough for it to get really awkward for Piper, though she said nothing. She thought about the old rule of Aphrodite’s cabin: that to be recognized as a daughter of the love goddess, you had to break someone’s heart. Piper had long ago decided to change that rule. Penny and Annabeth were a perfect example of why. You should have to make someone’s heart whole; that was a much better test.

When Penny pulled away, Annabeth looked like a fish gasping for air.

‘The rivalry ends here,’ Penny said. ‘I love you, Wise Girl.’

Annabeth made a little sigh, like something in her ribcage had melted.

Penny glanced at Piper. ‘Sorry, I had to do that.’

Piper grinned. ‘How could a daughter of Aphrodite not approve? You’re a great girlfriend.’

Annabeth made another grunt-whimper. ‘Uh … anyway. We’re beneath the Erechtheion. It’s a temple to both Athena and Poseidon. The Parthenon should be diagonally to the southeast of here. We’ll need to sneak around the perimeter and disable as many siege weapons as we can, make an approach path for the Argo II.’

‘It’s broad daylight,’ Piper said. ‘How will we go unnoticed?’

Annabeth scanned the sky. ‘That’s why I made a plan with Frances and Hazel. Hopefully … ah. Look.’

A bee zipped overhead. Dozens more followed. They swarmed around a column, then hovered over the opening of the pit.

‘Say hi to Frances, everybody,’ Annabeth said.

Piper waved. The cloud of bees zipped away.

‘How does that even work?’ Penny said. ‘Like … one bee is a finger? Two bees are her eyes?’

‘I don’t know,’ Annabeth admitted. ‘But she’s our go-between. As soon as she gives Hazel the word, she will –’

‘Gah!’ Penny yelped.

Annabeth clamped her hand over her mouth.

Which looked strange, because suddenly each of them had turned into a hulking, six-armed Earthborn.

‘Hazel’s Mist.’ Piper’s voice sounded deep and gravelly. She looked down and realized that she, too, now had a lovely Neanderthal body – belly hair, loincloth, stubby legs and oversized feet. If she concentrated, she could see her normal arms, but when she moved them they rippled like mirages, separating into three different sets of muscular Earthborn arms.

Penny grimaced, which looked even worse on her newly uglified face. ‘Wow, Annabeth … I’m really glad I kissed you before you changed.’

‘Thanks a lot,’ she said. ‘We should get going. I’ll move clockwise around the perimeter. Piper, you move counterclockwise. Penny, you scout the middle –’

‘Wait,’ Penny said. ‘We’re walking right into the whole blood-spilling sacrifice trap we’ve been warned about, and you want to split up even more?’

‘We’ll cover more ground that way,’ Annabeth said. ‘We have to hurry. That chanting …’

Piper hadn’t noticed it until then, but now she heard it: an ominous drone in the distance, like a hundred forklifts idling. She looked at the ground and noticed bits of gravel trembling, skittering southeast, as if pulled towards the Parthenon.

‘Right,’ Piper said. ‘We’ll meet up at the giant’s throne.’

At first it was easy.

Monsters were everywhere – hundreds of ogres, Earthborn and Cyclopes milling through the ruins – but most of them were gathered at the Parthenon, watching the ceremony in progress. Piper strolled along the cliffs of the Acropolis unchallenged.

Near the first onager, three Earthborn were sunning themselves on the rocks. Piper walked right up to them and smiled. ‘Hello.’

Before they could make a sound, she cut them down with her sword. All three melted into slag heaps. She slashed the onager’s spring cord to disable the weapon, then kept moving.

She was committed now. She had to do as much damage as possible before the sabotage was discovered.

She skirted a patrol of Cyclopes. The second onager was surrounded by an encampment of tattooed Laistrygonian ogres, but Piper managed to get to the machine without raising suspicion. She dropped a vial of Greek fire in the sling. With luck, as soon as they tried to load the catapult, it would explode in their faces.

She kept moving. Gryphons roosted on the colonnade of an old temple. A group of empousai had retreated into a shadowy archway and appeared to be slumbering, their fiery hair flickering dimly, their brass legs glinting. Hopefully the sunlight would make them sluggish if they had to fight.

Whenever she could, Piper slew isolated monsters. She walked past larger groups. Meanwhile the crowd at the Parthenon grew larger. The chanting got louder. Piper couldn’t see what was happening inside the ruins – just the heads of twenty or thirty giants standing in a circle, mumbling and swaying, maybe doing the evil monster version of ‘Kumbayah’.

She disabled a third siege weapon by sawing through the torsion ropes, which should give the Argo II a clear approach from the north.

She hoped Frances was watching her progress. She wondered how long it would take for the ship to arrive.

Suddenly, the chanting stopped. A BOOM echoed across the hillside. In the Parthenon, the giants roared in triumph. All around Piper, monsters surged towards the sound of celebration.

That couldn’t be good. Piper blended into a crowd of sour-smelling Earthborn. She bounded up the main steps of the temple, then climbed a section of metal scaffolding so she could see above the heads of the ogres and Cyclopes.

The scene in the ruins almost made her cry aloud.

Before Porphyrion’s throne, dozens of giants stood in a loose ring, hollering and shaking their weapons as two of their number paraded around the circle, showing off their prizes. The princess Periboia held Annabeth by the neck like a feral cat. The giant Enceladus had Penny wrapped in his massive fist.

Annabeth and Penny both struggled helplessly. Their captors displayed them to the cheering horde of monsters, then turned to face King Porphyrion, who sat in his makeshift throne, his white eyes gleaming with malice.

‘Right on time!’ the giant king bellowed. ‘The blood of Olympus to raise the Earth Mother!’

#heroes of olympus #hoo #lesbians of olymous #lesbian #lesbiansafe #gay #lgbt #lgbtq #sapphic #wlw #lesbian rewrites #lesbian rewrite project #the blood of olympus

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