#Apollo Murders series

[lizabethstucker]

The Apollo Murders by Chris Hadfield

4 out of 5.

Apollo Murders 1

Kazimieras "Kaz" Zemeckis' future as a test pilot and astronaut selectee is destroyed when a bird strike led to his canopy exploding, the plastic shrapnel causing him to lose his left eye. Five years later he's sent by the U.S. Navy to the Houston Manned Spacecraft Center to be the military liaison for the Apollo 18 crew.

The mission, completely funded by the Department of Defense, will be the first all-military spaceflight whose classified purpose would be determined by the U.S. Air Force. The actions of the Soviet space program, both orbiting Earth and on the Moon itself causes rapid changes in the Apollo mission and schedule. Espionage, romance, science, and a man caught between his life and his past all combine into an engrossing thriller.

NOTE: This has nothing to do with the horror film APOLLO 18.

The main action is set in 1973, with a few flashbacks and jumps from Houston, Texas, to Russia and elsewhere. Chris Hadfield is a man of many, many talents. He's a former fighter pilot, astronaut who was Commander of the Space Station, caught my attention with a YouTube video of him singing David Bowie's "Space Oddity" in the Space Station, and numerous talks and non-fiction books. Now he shares his ability to weave an enthralling story of what might've been.

As Hadfield stated in the start of the book, "Many of these people are real. Much of the actually happened." He even provided a partial list of who and what is real in the back of the book. If you're curious, I highly recommend Googling, but be prepared to fall down a rabbit hole.

I do believe it is a bit too long at 480 pages, could've benefited by tighter editing. That said, it was a fun read, one I binged almost all night. It also brought back a lot of memories for me, having grown up just south of Cape Canaveral with a father who worked in the program from slightly before 1959 until 1970. Highly recommend to my fellow space enthusiasts.

[sweetsdereese]

“How did you stop hurting?” “I didn’t”

[gotstabbedbyapen]

New level of desperation unlocked: I'm resorting to Danmachi fanfics that features Hyakinthos Clio for more Hyacinthus content.

I don't care that he's hated in the fandom, I don't care that he's an antagonist, I don't care that he's a sadistic little shit. I love all versions of Hyacinthus.

[autumn0689]

Im casually re-listening to the TOA audiobooks, and istg it is SO GOOD!!!

The humor is absolutely funny and the theme is more mature, especially with a character like Apollo/Lester Papadopoulos, who is a complex character who has done horrible stuff and good stuff and is learning to embrace his humanity.

His relationship with Meg is honestly so sweet, and the way that they grow to care for each other, and I love how they address Meg’s trauma with growing up with an abusive parent (well, ‘step father’ but Nero ABSOLUTELY doesn’t deserve that title) and how she grows as a person to the point of being able to confront him and telling him off.

I also love how it also deals with Apollo’s not so good actions, especially in the Tyrants Tomb. The antagonists are also amazing, with Nero’s ruthless nature, manipulating children for his own goal and being willing to BURN CHILDREN!! to Commodus’s over the top style that also has a cruel side to it as he is willing to slice through as many animals as he needs to and is willing to kill his subordinates on a whim to Caligula’s extremely paranoid nature, causing him to change guards so often in fear of being betrayed, while also being incredibly selfish and power hungry, willing to do whatever it takes to become the Sun God.

The story is about dealing with abusive relationships while also dealing with the trauma those relationships leave you. It also deals with learning to be a better person, and that you have the ability to change. It also deals with platonic relationships, and how meeting a person can change your life for the better.

This story made me laugh, made me ache in sadness, and made me fall in love with the characters.

Trials of Apollo is such a great series.

[justsalpals]

when will klavier gavin return from the war

[marlair]

hello people who read my word vomit (hihi theres a few of you now) and people who dont !!

they did this for me so now i feel obligated to do it in return if you’re interested in writing from a wider range of fandoms (and sending in writing requests (i’ll tag the fandoms she’s in)), you can check out the shortest oomf: @tartilli ! she’s a great writer i swear 🧍

if you’re more interested in sending in an art request, you can check out @artistxgrotto ! (she also writes so check that out too)

[mizodorito]

I genuinely have so many emotions packed up right now just by seeing the thumbnail for episode 5. I am seconds away from bursting.

[junkmailmusubi]

hi i didn't catch murder drones episode 4 when it premiered so i'm watching it now and i am audibly going "STOP. NONONONONONO. STOP., STOP CEASE HALT" every other minute please help. im in a neverending cycle of normal breathing rate and hyperventilating. i take back any statements i said abt wanting this to mentally knock me into the stratosphere,

[illdothehotvoice]

I think ignoring the uh. problems with Spirit of Justice, I've come to the conclusion that I think my biggest issue with it is it really just kind of went "Oh! You want more focus on Apollo Justice: Ace Attorney and it's characters? Sure, here you go! *retcons like. The entire game*"

Anyways I am about to complain a LOT about Spirit of Justice in the tags.

[jidem]

Listen, ok listen. Apollo is fundamentally a very normal guy. Sure he has magic powers, and sure his backstory is insane, but he himself is just. A guy. An all considered well adjusted guy. He's hinged. By far the most regular attorney in the serie.

That's what makes his relationship with Klavier so compelling, because Klavier, for all he is a campy rockstar, is also a fundamentally normal guy, so the two of them create an united front. They have this thematic synergy : common sense and basic cooperation triumohing over the batshit insane mess of the legal system.

But, Apollo being just a regular guy, is crucially what makes his relationship with BLACKQUILL the funniest shit in the entire serie by far.

Normal guy vs Hell murderer samurai with a sword

Regular attorney vs Insane emo band leader

Guy who can see really good vs Guy who can shatter metal with his bare hands

Aa5 is HILARIOUS and amazingly fun to play just because of that

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

1968 [Chapter 6: Athena, Goddess Of Wisdom]

Series Summary: Aemond is embroiled in a fierce battle to secure the Democratic Party nomination and defeat his archnemesis, Richard Nixon, in the presidential election. You are his wife of two years and wholeheartedly indoctrinated into the Targaryen political dynasty. But you have an archnemesis of your own: Aemond’s chronically delinquent brother Aegon.

Series Warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, character deaths, New Jersey, age-gap relationships, drinking, smoking, drugs, pregnancy and childbirth, kids with weird Greek names, historical topics including war and discrimination, math.

Word Count: 5.2k

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged! 🥰

💜 All of my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Here at the midway point in our journey—like Dante stumbling upon the gates of the Inferno—would it be the right moment to review what’s at stake? Let’s begin.

It’s the end of August. The delegates of the Democratic National Convention in Chicago officially vote to name Aemond the party’s presidential candidate. His ascension is aided by 10,000 antiwar demonstrators who flood into the city and threaten to set it ablaze if Hubert Humphrey is chosen instead. At the end—in his death rattle—Humphrey begs to be Aemond’s running mate, one last humiliation he cannot resist. Humphrey is denied. Eugene McCarthy, dignity intact, boards a commercial flight to his home state of Minnesota without looking back.

Aemond selects U.S. Ambassador to France, Sargent Shriver, to be his vice president. Shriver is a Kennedy by marriage—his wife, JFK’s younger sister Eunice, just founded the Special Olympics—and has previously headed the Office of Economic Opportunity, the Peace Corps, and the Chicago Board of Education. He also served as the architect of the president’s “War on Poverty” before distancing himself from the imploding Johnson administration. Shriver is not a concession to fence-sitting moderates or Southern Dixiecrats, but an embodiment of Aemond’s commitment to unapologetic progressivism. Richard Nixon spends the weekend campaigning in his native California, a gold vein of votes like the mines settlers rushed to in 1848. George Wallace announces that he will run as an Independent. Racists everywhere rejoice.

Phase III of the Tet Offensive is underway in Vietnam; 700 American soldiers have been killed this month alone. Riots break out in military prisons where the U.S. Army is keeping their deserters. The North Vietnamese refuse to allow Pope Paul VI to visit Hanoi on a peace mission. President Johnson calls both Aemond and Nixon to personally inform them of this latest evidence of the communists’ unwillingness to negotiate in good faith. Daeron and John McCain remain in Hỏa Lò Prison. The draft swallows men like the titan Cronus devoured his own children.

In Eastern Europe, the Russians are crushing pro-democracy protests in the largest military operation since World War II as half a million troops roll into Czechoslovakia. In Caswell County, North Carolina, the last remaining segregated school district in the nation is ordered by a federal judge to integrate after years of stalling. On the Fangataufa Atoll in the South Pacific, France becomes the fifth nation to successfully explode a hydrogen bomb. In Mexico City, 300,000 students gather to protest the authoritarian regime of President Diaz Ordaz. In Guatemala, American ambassador John Gordon Mein is murdered by a Marxist guerilla organization called the Rebel Armed Forces. In Columbus, Ohio, nine guards are held hostage during a prison riot; after 30 hours, they’re rescued by a SWAT team.

The latest issue of Life magazine brings worldwide attention to catastrophic industrial pollution in the Great Lakes. The first successful multiorgan transplant is carried out at Houston Methodist Hospital. The Beatles release Hey Jude, the best-selling single of 1968 in the U.S., U.K., Australia, and Canada. NASA’s Apollo lunar landing program plans to launch a crewed shuttle next year, just in time to fulfill John F. Kennedy’s 1962 promise to put a man on the moon “before the end of the decade.” If this is successful, the United States will win the Space Race and prove the superiority of capitalism. If it fails, the martyred astronauts will join all the other ghosts of this apocalyptic age, an epoch born under bad stars.

The night sky glows with the ancient debris of the Aurigid meteor shower. From down here on Earth, Jupiter is a radiant white gleam, visible with the naked eye and admired since humans were making cave paintings and Stonehenge. But Io is a mystery. With a telescope, she becomes a dust mote entrapped by Jupiter’s gravity; to the casual observer, she doesn’t exist at all.

~~~~~~~~~~

What was it like, that very first time? It’s strange to remember. You’re both different people now.

It’s May, 1966. You and Aemond are engaged, due to be married in three short weeks, and if you get pregnant then it’s no harm, no foul. In reality, it will end up taking you over a year to conceive, but no one knows that yet; you are living in the liminal space between what you imagine your life will be and the cold blade of the truth. Aemond has brought you to Asteria for the weekend, an increasingly common occurrence. The Targaryens—minus one, that holdout prodigal son, always glowering from behind swigs of rum and clouds of smoke—have already begun to treat you like a member of the family. The flock of Alopekis yap excitedly and lick your shins. Eudoxia learns your favorite snacks so she can have them ready when you arrive.

One night Aemond takes your hand and leads you to Helaena’s garden, darkness turned to twilight in the artificial luminance of the main house. You can hear distant voices, chatter and laughter, and the Beatles’ Rubber Soul spinning on the record player in the living room like a black hole, gravity that not even light can escape when it is wrenched over the event horizon.

You’re giggling as Aemond pulls you along, faster and faster, weaving through pathways lined with roses and sunflowers and butterfly bushes. Your high heels sink into soft, fertile earth; the air in your lungs is cool and infinite. “Where are we going?”

And Aemond grins back at you as he replies: “To Olympus.”

In the circle of hedges guarded by thirteen gods of stone, Aemond unzips your modest pink sundress and slips your heels off your feet, kneeling like he’s proposing to you again. When you are bare and secretless, he draws you down onto the grass and opens you, claims you, fills you to the brim as the crystalline water of the fountain patters and Zeus hurls his lightning bolts, an eternal storm, unending war. It’s intense in a way it never was with your first boyfriend, a sweet polite boy who talked about feminist theory and followed his enlightened conscience all the way to Vietnam. This isn’t just a pleasant way to pass a Friday night, something to look forward to between differential equations textbooks and calculus proofs. With Aemond it’s a ritual; it’s something so overpowering it almost scares you.

“Aphrodite,” Aemond murmurs against your throat, and when you try to get on top he stops you, pins you to the ground, thrusts hard and deep, and you try not to moan too loudly as you surrender, his weight on you like a prophesy. This is how he wants you. This is where you belong.

Has someone ever stitched you to their side, pushing the needle through your skin again and again as the fabric latticework takes shape, until their blood spills into your veins and your antibodies can no longer tell the difference? He makes you think you’ve forgotten who you were before. He makes you want to believe in things the world taught you were myths.

But that was over two years ago. Now Aemond is not your spellbinding almost-stranger of a fiancé—shrouded in just the right amount of mystery—but your husband, the father of your dead child, the presidential candidate. You miss when he was a mirage. You miss what it felt like to get high on the idea of him, each taste a hit, each touch a rush of toxins to the bloodstream.

Seven weeks after your emergency c-section, you are healing. Your belly no longer aches, your bleeding stops, you can rejoin the living in this last gasp of summer. Ludwika takes you shopping and you pick out new swimsuits; you’ve gone up a size since the baby, and it shows no signs of vanishing. In the fitting room, Ludwika chain-smokes Camel cigarettes and claps when you show her each outfit, ordering you to spin around, telling you that there’s nothing like Oleg Cassini back in Poland. You plan to buy three swimsuits. Ludwika insists you get five. She pays with Otto’s American Express.

That afternoon at home in your blue bedroom, you get changed to join the rest of the family down by the pool, your first swim since Ari was born. You choose Ludwika’s favorite: a dreamy turquoise two-piece with flowing transparent fabric that drapes your midsection. You can still see the dark vertical line of where the doctors stitched you closed. Now you and Aemond match; he got his scar on the floor of the Breakers Hotel in Palm Beach, you earned yours at Mount Sinai Hospital in Manhattan. There are gold chains on your wrist and looped around your neck. Warm sunlight and ocean wind pours in through the open windows.

Aemond appears in the doorway and you turn to show him, proud of how you’ve pulled yourself together, how this past year hasn’t put you in an asylum. His right eye catches on your scar and stays there for a long time. Then at last he says: “You don’t have something else to wear?”

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s Labor Day, and Asteria has been descended upon by guests invited to celebrate Aemond’s nomination. The dining room table is overflowing with champagne, Agiorgitiko wine, platters of mini spanakopitas, lamb gyros, pita bread with hummus and tzatziki, feta cheese and cured meats, grilled octopus, baklava, and kourabiethes. Eudoxia is rushing around sweeping up crumbs and shooing tipsy visitors away from antique vases shipped here from Greece. Aemond’s celebrity endorsers include Sammy Davis Jr., Sonny and Cher, Andy Williams, Bobby Darin, Warren Beatty, Shirley MacLaine, Claudine Longet, and a number of politicians; but the most notable attendee is President Lyndon Baines Johnson, shadowed by Secret Service agents. He won’t be making any surprise appearances on the campaign trail for Aemond—in the present political climate, he would be more of a liability than an asset—but he has travelled to Long Beach Island tonight to offer his well-wishes. From the record player thrums Jimi Hendrix’s All Along The Watchtower.

When you finish getting ready and arrive downstairs, you spot Aegon: slouching in a velvet chair over a century old, hair shagging in his eyes, sipping something out of a chipped mug he clasps with both hands, flirting with a bubbly early-twenties campaign staffer. Aegon smiles and waves when he sees you. You wave back. And you think: When did he become the person I look for when I walk into a room?

Now Aemond is beside you in a blue suit—beaming, confident, his glass eye in place, a hand resting on your waist—and Aegon isn’t smiling anymore. He takes a gulp of what is almost certainly straight rum from his mug and returns his attention to the campaign staffer, his lady of the hour. You picture him undressing her on his shag carpet and feel disorienting, violent envy like a bullet.

Viserys is already fast asleep upstairs, but the rest of the family is out en masse to charm the invitees and pose for photographs. Alicent, Helaena, and Mimi—trying very hard to act sober, blinking too often—are chit-chatting with the other political wives. Otto is complaining about something to Criston; Criston is pretending to listen as he stares at Alicent. Ludwika is smoking her Camels and talking to several young journalists who are ogling her, enraptured. Fosco and Sargent Shriver are entertaining a group of guests with a boisterous, lighthearted debate on the merits of Italian versus French cuisine, though they agree that both are superior to Greek. The nannies have brought the eight children to be paraded around before bedtime. All Cosmo wants to do is clutch your hand and “help” you navigate around the living room, warning you not to step on the small, weaving Alopekis. When Mimi attempts to steal her youngest son away, he ignores her, and as she begins to make a scene you rebuke her with a harsh glare. Mimi retreats meekly. She has never argued with you, not once in over two years. You speak for Aemond, and Aemond is a god.

As the children are herded off to their beds by the nannies, Bobby Kennedy—presently serving as a New York senator despite residing primarily on his family’s compound in Massachusetts—approaches to congratulate Aemond. His wife Ethel is a tiny, nasally, scrappy but not terribly bright woman, five months pregnant with her eleventh child, and you have to get away from her like a hand pulled from a hot stove.

“You know, I was considering running,” Bobby says to Aemond, chuckling, good-natured. “But when I saw you get in the race, I thought better of it! Maybe I’ll give it a go in ’76, huh?”

“Hey, kid, what a tough year you’ve had,” Ethel tells you, patting your forearm. You can’t tear your eyes from her small belly. She has ten living children already. I couldn’t keep one. What kind of sense does that make? “We’re real sorry for your trouble, aren’t we, Bobby?”

Now he is nodding somberly. “We are. We sure are. We’ve been praying for you both.”

Aemond is thanking them, sounding touched but entirely collected. You manage some hurried response and then excuse yourself. Your hands are shaking as you cross the room, not really seeing it. You walk right into Lady Bird Johnson. She takes pity on you; she seems to perceive how rattled you are. “Oh Lyndon, look, it’s just who we were hoping to speak to! The next first lady of the United States. And how beautiful you are, just radiant. How do you keep your hair so perfect? That glamorous updo. You never have a single strand out of place.” Lady Bird lays a palm tenderly on your bare shoulder. She has an unusual, angular face, but a wise sort of compassion that only comes from suffering. Her husband is an unrepentant serial cheater. “I’ll make you a list of everything you need to know about the White House. All the quirks of the property, and the hidden gems too!”

“You’re so kind. We’ll see what happens in November…”

“Good evening, ma’am,” President Johnson says, smiling warmly. He’s an ugly man, but there’s something hypnotic that lives inside him and shines through his eyes like the blaze of a lighthouse. He pulls you in through the dark, through the storm; he promises you answers to questions you haven’t thought of yet. LBJ is 6’4 and known for bullying his political adversaries with the so-called “Johnson Treatment”; he leans in and makes rapid-fire demands until they forget he’s not allowed to hit them. “I have to tell you frankly, I don’t envy anyone who inherits that den of rattlesnakes in Washington D.C.”

“Lyndon, don’t frighten her,” Lady Bird scolds fondly.

“Everyone thinks they know what to do about Vietnam,” LBJ plods onwards. “But it’s a damned if you do, damned if you don’t clusterfuck. If you keep fighting, they call you a murderer. But if you pull the troops out and South Vietnam falls to the communists, every single man lost was for nothing, and you think the families will stand for that? Their kid in a body bag, or his legs blown off, or his brain scrambled? There’s no easy answer. It’s a goddamn bitch of a quagmire.”

Lady Bird offers you a sympathetic smirk. Sorry about all this unpleasantness, she means. When he gets himself worked up, I can’t stop him. But you find yourself feeling sorry for President Johnson. It will be difficult for him to learn how to fade into disgraced obscurity after once being so omnipotent, so beloved. Reinvention hurts like hell: fevers raging, bones mending, healing flesh that itches so ferociously you want to claw it off.

LBJ gives Lady Bird a look, quick but meaningful. She acquiesces. This has happened a thousand times before. “It was so nice talking to you, dear,” she tells you, then crosses the living room to pay her respects to Alicent.

The president steps closer, looming, towering. The Johnson Treatment?? you think, but no; he isn’t trying to intimidate you. He’s just curious.

“Do you know what Aemond’s plan is for ‘Nam?” LBJ asks, eyes urgent, voice low. “I’m sure he has one. He’s sworn to end the draft as soon as he gets into office, but how is he going to make sure the South Vietnamese can fend off the North themselves? We’re trying to train the bastards, but if we left they’d fold in months. It would be the first war the U.S. ever lost. Does he understand that?”

“He doesn’t really discuss it with me.” That’s true; you know his policies, but only because they are a constant subject of conversation within the family, something you all breathe like oxygen.

“We can’t let Nixon win,” LBJ continues. “It’s mass suicide to leave the country in his hands. The man can’t hold his liquor anymore, getting robbed by Kennedy in ’60 broke something in him. He gets sloshed and shoves his aids around, makes up conspiracies in his head. He’s a paranoid little prick. He’ll surveille the American people. He’ll launch a nuke at Moscow.”

You honestly don’t know what he expects you to say. “I’ll pass the message along to Aemond.”

“People love you, Mrs. Targaryen.” LBJ watching you closely. “Believe it or not, they used to love me too. But I still remember how to play the game. You’re the only reason Aemond is leading the polls in Florida. You can get him other states too. Jack needed Jackie. Aemond needs you. And you’ve had tragedies, and that’s a damn shame. But don’t you miss an opportunity. You take every disappointment, every fucked up cruelty of life and find a way to make it work for you. You pin it to your chest like a goddamn medal. Every single scar makes you look more mortal to those people going to the ballot box in November. You want them to be able to see themselves in you. It helps the mansions and the millions go down smoother.”

“President Johnson!” Aegon says as he saunters over, huge mocking grin. He thumps a closed fist against the Texan’s broad chest; the Secret Service agents standing ten feet away observe this sternly. “How thoughtful of you to be here, taking time out of your busy schedule, squeezing us in between war crimes.”

“The mayor of Trenton,” LBJ jabs.

“The butcher of Saigon.”

Now the president is no longer amused. “You’ve never accomplished anything in your whole damn life, son. Your obituary will be the size of a postage stamp. I’m looking forward to reading it someday soon.” He leaves, rejoining Lady Bird at the opposite end of the room.

You frown at Aegon, disapproving. You’re dressed in a sparkling, royal blue gown that Aemond chose. “That was unnecessary.”

Aegon is wearing an ill-fitting green shirt—half the buttons undone—khaki pants, and tan moccasins. “I just did you a favor.”

“What happened to your new girlfriend? Shouldn’t she be getting railed in your basement right now? Did she have a prior commitment? Did she have a spelling test to study for? Those can be tricky, such complex words. Juvenile. Inappropriate. Infidelity.”

“You know what he brags about?” Aegon says, meaning LBJ. “That he’s fucked more women by accident than John F. Kennedy ever did on purpose.”

“That sounds…logistically challenging.”

“He’s a lech. He’s a freak. He tells everyone on Capitol Hill how big his cock is. He takes it out and swings it around during meetings.”

“And that’s all far less than admirable, but he’s not going to do something like that around me.”

“How do you know?”

“Because he’s not an idiot,” you say impatiently. “He was perfectly civil. And I was getting interesting advice.”

Aegon rolls his eyes, exasperated. “Yeah, okay, I’m sorry I crashed your cute little pep talk with Lyndon Johnson, the most hated man on the planet.”

“I guess you can’t stop Aemond from touching me, so you have to terrorize LBJ instead.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Aegon hisses, and his venom stuns you. And now you’re both trapped: you loosed the arrow, he proved you hit the mark. He’s flushing a deep, mortified red. Your guts are twisting with remorse.

“Aegon, wait, I didn’t mean—”

He whirls and storms off, shoving his way through the crowd. People glare at him as they clutch their glasses and plates, sighing in that What else do you expect from the worthless son? sort of way. You’re still gaping blankly at the place where Aegon stood when Aemond finds you, snakes a hand around the back of your neck, and whispers through the painstakingly-arranged wisps of hair that fall around your ear: “Follow me.”

It’s not a question. It’s a command. You trail him through the living room, into the foyer, and through the front door, not knowing what he wants. Outside the moon is a sliver; the light from the main house makes the stars hard to see. “Aemond, you’ll never believe the conversation I just had with LBJ. He really unloaded, I think the stress is driving him insane. I have to tell you what he said about—”

“Later.” And this is jarring; Aemond doesn’t put anything before strategy. He grabs your hand as he turns into Helaena’s garden, and only then do you understand what he wants. Instinctively, your legs lock up and your feet stop moving. Aemond tugs you onward. He wants it to be like the very first time. He intends to start over with you, the dawning of a new age in the dead of night.

Hidden in the circle of hedges, he takes your face roughly in his hands and kisses you, drinks you down like a vampire, consumes you like wildfire. But your skull echoes with panic. I don’t want him touching me. I don’t want another child with him. “Aemond…”

He doesn’t hear you, or acts like he doesn’t, or mistakes it for a murmur of desire, or chooses to believe it is. He has you down on the grass under the vengeful gaze of Zeus, the fountain splashing, the sounds of the house a low foreign drone. He yanks off your panties, but he doesn’t want you naked like he always did before. He pushes the hem of your shimmering cobalt gown up to your hips and unbuckles his trousers. And you realize as he’s touching you, as he’s easing himself into you: He doesn’t want to have to look at my scar.

You can’t ignore him, you can’t pretend it’s not happening. He’s too big for that. It’s a biting fullness that demands to be felt. So you kiss him back, and knot your fingers in his short hair like you used to, and try to remember the things you always said to him before. And when Aemond is too absorbed to notice, you look away from him, from the statue of Zeus, and peer up into the stone face of Athena instead: the goddess who never married and who knows the answer to every question.

“I love you,” Aemond says when it’s over, marveling at the slopes of your face in the dim ethereal light. “Everything will be right again soon. Everything will be perfect.”

You conjure up a smile and nod like you believe him.

“What did LBJ say?”

“Can I tell you later tonight? After the party, maybe? I just need a few minutes.”

“Of course.” And now Aemond pretends to be patient. He buckles his belt and returns to the main house, his blood coursing with the possibilities only you can make real, his skin damp with your sweat.

For a while—ten minutes, twenty minutes—you lie there on the cool grass wondering what it was like for all those mortals and nymphs, being pinned down by Zeus and then having Hera try to kill them afterwards, raising ill-fated reviled bastards they couldn’t help but love. What is heaven if the realm of the immortals is so cruel? Why does the god of justice seem so immune to it?

When at last you rise and walk back towards the house, you find Mimi at the edge of the garden. She’s on her knees and retching into a rose bush; she’s cut her face on the thorns, but she hasn’t noticed yet. She’s groaning; she seems lost.

You reach for her, gripping her bony shoulders. “Mimi, here, let’s get you upstairs…”

“No,” she blubbers, tears streaming down her scratched cheeks. “Just go away. Leave me.”

“Mimi—”

“No!” she roars, a mournful hemorrhage as she slaps your hands until you release her.

“You don’t have to be this way,” you tell her, distraught. “You can give up drinking. We’ll help you, me and Fosco and Ludwika. You can start over. You can be healthy and present again, you can live a real life.”

Mimi stares up at you, her grey eyes glassy and bloodshot but with a vicious, piercing honesty. “My husband hates me. My kids don’t know I exist. What the hell do I have to be sober for?”

You weren’t expecting this. You don’t know what to say. “We can help make the world better.”

“The world would be better without me in it.”

Then Mimi curls up on the grass under the rose bush, and stays there until you return with Fosco to drag her upstairs to her empty bed.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next afternoon, you’re lying on a lounge chair by the pool. Tomorrow the family will leave Asteria and embark upon a vigorous campaign schedule that will continue, with very few breaks, until Election Day on Tuesday, November 5th. The children are splashing and shrieking in the pool with Fosco, but you aren’t looking at them. You’re staring across the sun-drenched emerald lawn at the Atlantic Ocean. You’re envisioning all the bones and splinters of sunken ships that must litter the silt of the abyss; you’re thinking that it’s a graveyard with no headstones, no memory. Your swimsuit is a red one-piece. Your eyes are shielded by large black Ray Bans aviator sunglasses. Your gaze flicks up to the cloudless blue sky, where all the stars and planets are invisible.

Jupiter has nearly a hundred moons; the largest four were discovered by Galileo in 1610. Europa is a smooth white cosmic marble with a crust of ice, beautiful, immaculate. Ganymede, the largest moon in our solar system and the only satellite with its own magnetic field, is rumored to have a vast underground saltwater ocean that may contain life. Callisto is dark and indomitable, riddled with impact craters; because of her dynamic atmosphere and location beyond Jupiter’s radiation belts, she is considered the best location for possible future crewed missions to the Jovian system. But Io is a wasteland. She has no water and no oxygen. Her only children are 400 active volcanoes, sulfur plumes and lava flows, mountains of silicate rock higher than Mount Everest, cataclysmic earthquakes as her crust slips around on a mantle of magma. Her daily radiation levels are 36 times the lethal limit for humans. If Hades had a home in our corner of the galaxy, it would be Io. She glows ruby and gold with barren apocalyptic fury. You can feel yourself turning poisonous like she is. You can feel your skin splitting open as the lava spills out.

Aegon trots out of the house—red swim trunks, cheap red plastic sunglasses, no shirt, a beach towel slung around his neck, flip flops—and kicks your chair. “Get up. We’re going sailing.”

“I don’t want to talk to anybody.”

“Great, because I’m not asking you to talk. I’m telling you to get in my boat.”

You don’t reply. You don’t think you can without your voice cracking. Aegon crouches down beside your chair and pushes your sunglasses up into your Brigitte Bardot-inspired hair so he can see your face. Your eyes are pink, wet, desperately sad. Deep troubled grooves appear in his forehead as he studies you. Gently, wordlessly, he pats your cheek twice and lowers your sunglasses back over your eyes. Then he stands up again and offers you his hand.

“Let’s go,” Aegon says, softly this time. You take his hand and follow him down to the boathouse.

Five vessels are currently kept there. Aegon’s sailboat is a 25-foot Wianno Senior sloop, just roomy enough for a few passengers. He’s had it since long before you married into the Targaryen family. It is white with hand-painted gold accents; the name Sunfyre adorns the stern. He unmoors the boat, pushes it out into the open water, and raises the sails.

You glide eastbound over the glittering crests of waves, slowly at first, then faster as the sails catch the wind. Aegon has one hand on the rudder, the other grasping the ropes. And the farther you get from shore, the smaller Asteria seems, and the Targaryen family, and the presidential election, and the United States itself. Now all that exists is this boat: you, Aegon, the squawking gulls, the school of mackerel, the ocean. The sun beats down; the breeze rips strands of your hair free. The battery-powered record player is blasting White Room by Cream. When you are far enough from land that no journalists would be able to get a photo, Aegon takes two joints and his Zippo out of the pocket of his swim trunks. He puts both joints between his lips, lights them, and passes you one. Then he stretches out beside you on the deck, gazing up at the September sky.

You ask as your muscles unravel and your thoughts turn light and easy to share: “Why did you bring me out here?”

“So you can drown yourself,” Aegon says, and you both laugh. “Nah. I used to go sailing all the time when I was a teenager. It always made me feel better. It was the only place where I could really be alone.”

You consider the math. “Wow. You haven’t been a teenager since before I was in kindergarten.”

“It’s weird to think about. You don’t seem that young.”

“Thanks, I guess. You don’t seem that old.”

“Maybe we’re meeting in the middle.” He inhales deeply and then exhales in a rush of smoke. “What do you think, should I get an earring?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“It might shock Otto so bad it kills him.”

“I’ll get two.” And then Aegon says: “It’s not cool for you to mock me.”

You are dismayed; you didn’t mean to hurt him. “I wasn’t.”

“Yes, you were. You were mocking me. You mocked me about the receipt under my ashtray, and then you mocked me again last night. I’m up for a lot of things, but I can’t handle that. Okay?”

“Okay.” You turn your head so you can see him: shaggy blonde hair, stubble, perpetual sunburn, the softness of his belly and his chest, flesh you long to vanish into like rain through parched earth. “Aegon?”

He looks over at you. “Io?”

“I don’t want Aemond to touch me either.”

He’s surprised; not by what you feel, but because you’ve said it aloud, a treason like Prometheus giving mankind the gift of fire. “What are we gonna do about it?”

If you were the goddess of wisdom, maybe you’d know.

[the-bar-sinister]

There's lots of gay subtext in Ace Attorney. 

But when looking specifically at subtext that might be intentionally put in the narrative by the creators with the intention that the character in question is actually gay, I think the main character with the most evidence behind this is actually Apollo Justice.

Our other main characters, Phoenix Wright and Athena Cykes both have obvious subtextually heteronormative romantic partners. To an adult, straight, culturally normative audience, Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey read normatively as an obvious romantic pairing. This is also the case for Athena Cykes and Simon Blackquill. In Great Ace Attorney the same can be said for Ryuunosuke and Susato. 

I repeat– to an adult, straight culturally normative audience, the romantic subtext between these characters is clear. If you showed these games to an American movie going public, that would be the obvious read by the audience.

Yes, each of these characters, Phoenix, Athena, and Ryuunosuke also have strong queer romantic subtext with another character. (Miles, Juniper, and Kazuma respectively).

However, that's not my point. It's not significant that each of the other three characters has homosexual relationship subtext.

It is significant that Apollo Justice does not have a character with whom he has heteronormative romantic subtext.

The closest thing Apollo Justice has to a "heteronormative romantic subtext" is Trucy Wright– whom we, the audience know is his sister.

And yes, you can make the argument that there is deliberate incestuous subtext between them– a kind of Luke/Leia style relationship with which the audience is teased by the narrative. Dhurke brings it up directly in Spirit of Justice.

However, this is still not a heterenormative subtext, because of its taboo nature. More taboo, culturally at this point, than homosexuality.

On top of the lack of heteronormative romantic subtext, Apollo also is on the receiving end some of the strongest and most overt of the homosexual subtext in the series.

There is of course the famous "meet cute" introduction between Apollo and Klavier– 

“I must say, I'm used to being inspected by the ladies... but this is the first time I've felt this way with another man.”

This is without question overt homosexual subtext.

However, there is another, even more subtextually clearly defined moment in Dual Destinies. Honestly, the subtext is all over Dual Destinies in the way Apollo reacts to Clay Terran's death (basically completely losing it) but there's one particular moment that deliberately draws your attention to the relationship in a queer way.

In one of the last cases of the game, everyone is delicately trying to explain to the judge that Aura Blackquill was in love with Metis Cykes (who was murdered) in a queer way. It's a big “they’re lesbians, harold” moment.

And then the conversation immediately turns to Apollo Justice and how he’s just had someone who was “important to him” murdered, too.

The narrative specifically draws you attention to the relationship that Aura and Metis had, and compares it to the relationship between Apollo and Clay.

You are specifically invited to speculate about what kind of important relationship Clay and Apollo had, and why Apollo has been affected so incredibly deeply.

So yeah. Between Clay, Klavier, and the lack of anything resembling a heteronormative romantic relationship for Apollo in the games, I think he has the strongest narrative evidence that he's actually being written deliberately as gay.

[poetglasses]

In Defense of Jacks in ACFTL

I do have spoilers, so this is your warning not to venture further if you haven't finished reading.

First off, I love how the story was told and how it ended. Could we have gotten more of the other characters? Yes. Did we really need to? Maybe, but I certainly didn't mind the absence. I didn't think we needed to address every character that we've met. We saw Castor and Lala, and I was happy about it, but I was strictly here for Evajacks story, and that's what I got.

I think Eva and Jacks had character development in this novel.

Eva isn't as trusting and hopeful as she was in the previous two books, and I was happy about it! Girl was getting murder attempted on her, and her husband is a narcissistic, manipulative psychopath. The only people she could trust were 1) being kept away from her or 2) avoiding her because they thought they were doing the best thing for her if they did so *cough* jacks

Jacks watched the girl he loved die! He blamed himself for what happened to Eva, and then continued staying away because he felt guilty and thought he was keeping her safe in doing so. He didn't know Apollo took Eva's memories away. He was too busy making sure Castor didn't go within 10 feet of Eva because Castor did attack Jacks after he went back in time to save her! He was still around Eva, he was just hiding in the shadows or out in the balcony peering through the windows. He genuinely thought Apollo was the better choice for Eva because at least Apollo hadn't done anything to her (as far as he knew).

Jacks apologized to her under the phoenix tree, saying that when he went back in time, he thought the stones would have taken something from him, not Eva, or are we all ignoring that because of that beautiful love confession Eva gave? He wanted our girl to live! When Eva met Castor in the Cursed Forest, Jacks literally put a knife through his best friend's chest in fear of having a repeat of the first timeline! Castor wasn't even doing anything, he was just trying to have a conversation with her.

Jacks was the tortured lover we all knew him to be. He wasn't Jacks, Prince of Hearts, with a trail of deadly kisses in search of true love in this novel. He was Jacks of the Hollow, a man who loved his girl so much he wanted her to live instead of dying at his kiss. We all know how badly Eva wanted to kiss him, and we all know Jacks can hear her thoughts. Can we blame him for staying away? He literally said that if she died again, he could not bring her back. The idea of that was terrifying to him. He already used the stones, and going to Honora would have the possibility of turning her into a vampire, maybe worse.

Jacks felt different in this novel because he finally admitted how much he loves Eva. We've seen him do so many things for her throughout the series. Was he holding back in the other two books? I'd argue not really, but he certainly wasn't going to let her be with him. He didn't want to admit he was in love with her. Dude literally held her like a grudge in the first novel, a secret in the second novel, and then a promise in the third. The hints were there for us. He would literally do anything for her. He just didn't want to admit to himself he loved her because if he allowed himself to there was the possibility that she could die.

Does Eva die in this book? No, thank god. But don't act like you read their kiss scene and didn't fucking break a little when Jacks went "No! Not again".

[i-live-here-in-my-house]

Thinking about a world where Sega and Capcom came together and gave us what we all deserve: a Sonic X Ace Attorney crossover game. I would think it'd lean more into a visual novel style, maybe with some parts more similar to the Investigation games where you play as Sonic in kinda an isometric platforming stage? Honestly that part isn't as fully formed in my mind.

Some sort of Eggman plot ends up getting everyone accidentally sent to the world of AA while he's on the search for some kinda spirit channeling maguffin to aid him in a take-over-the‐world-plot. And of course Phoenix "luckiest unlucky man ever" Wright ends up getting himself stuck right in the middle of it all.

For the first/tutorial case I think Sonic would absolutely need to be the defendant. I would think the events of the case probably take place either the same day of or the day after the Sonic cast gets transported into the world. Something along the lines of Sonic not having an alibi because he was moving too fast for them to see him would be a perfect kinda turnabout twist to combine the logic of both series together imo.

Also throughout the whole game there would 100% be a running gag about people mistaking Phoenix and Sonic for eachother purely because of Wright's hair and Sonic's quills

Case two's defendant is a toss up between Knuckles or Tails imo, I lean more towards Knuckles being the one though for one very important reason. Tails would be perfect for the Ace Attorney 'weird girl assistant' role. Obviously Sonic would be tagging along too (because no way in hell would you not be able to have both protagonists hanging out together) but Tails would be totally down to help and Sonic, while he totally wants to help Knux, is very much in a "I could just break him out and be back before they could even notice he's gone" mood which is causing Phoenix just SO much grief.

I think this would probably break from the general mold of AA and not be a murder case and instead be a larceny case, with Knuckles being accused of the crime due to his digging skills, and the fact that tunnels were found all around the property of the stolen object. This is where we learn about this spirit channeling macguffin through either a Pearl cameo, who we learn through fluff dialogue is now an honorary member of Team Rose due to how well she gets along with them. It turns out to actually be Rouge who stole the macguffin under orders from G.U.N to keep it out of Eggman's hands meaning she doesn't sentenced for the crime since she technically didn't break any laws.

Case three's defendant would be Big the Cat because I think it'd be funny. Something along the lines of Big looking for Froggy and ending up at a totally unrelated murder scene. You play as Apollo in this case because he's my favorite boy and I think it'd be funny to watch him struggle with having to deal with Big. Just a general silly case full of wacky crossover fun before getting more seriously into the plot with the final two cases. Also the Chaotix are there because you can't have a mystery game without detective. Are the helping? Are they against you? Not really sure. But it'd be a massive missed opportunity to NOT include them.

Amy would be case four's defendant, with her piko piko hammer being found at the scene and Omega's body being found in pieces. That's right! I think it'd be interesting to have a named character be the victim of one of these cases, but obviously I'm not gonna kill anyone off. I think Omega would be the best pick though since he's a robot and it'll take time for Tails to fix him from the totally wrecked state he's in. I think it'd be fun to have Shadow as a key witness in this case, believing Amy did it. He doesn’t want to suspect she did something like this, but claims he saw her in the act of tearing Omega apart with her hammer, take the macguffin and then bolt.

It goes without saying it's obviously Eggman trying to frame Amy for this, using Metal Sonic to frame her by using his shape shifting powers from Heros to disguise himself as her, take apart Omega to retrieve the macguffin, and get it to Eggman. Leading into the final case.

The final case would be a continuation from there with out heros all joining together to try and stop Eggman from using the machine being powered by the Macguffin. Maybe something about Phoenix needing to come with because his magatama is able to counteract it...? Idk. Get that mandatory Edgeworth cameo in there with it being revealed that him and Franziska were teaming up with Team Dark the whole game to help put a stop to things (Giving us fun Phoenix + Sonic and Edgeworth + Shadow parallels). Of course the heros manage to put a stop to things and everyone goes back to their own world yadda yadda happy ending.

This came out way longer than I expected haha but I hope y'all like the concept! If I had the patience I'd totally write this as a fan fic but I know I don't so if anyone wants to take my idea and expand on it absolutely do it! Just let me know so I can read it too. :3

[yandere-swallowtailcherry]

☀️Yandere!Apollo with a Female!Gojo!Reader☀️

This is from a poll I made. This was the most voted on that poll (God's School Aphrodite!Reader and Mitsuri!Reader both tied for second, but I'll do those as well.)

The first part is told in the narrator's pov, then it's in your pov.

This won't follow the original plot, so in this, Geto is on Gojo!reader's side!

Reader is 28, which is Gojo's canon age in the series (This won't contain spoilers from the manga, so don't worry!)

Also, thank you @forbidden-sunlight for helping me think of a plot for this!! Appreciate it! 👍

Hades hasn't felt this stressed out over anything in his life.

Multiple reports stated that these creatures called Curses have been the source of his stress. Not only were they killing thousands of humans, but they were also destroying the bifrost, the gate that only the chief gods can access, himself included.

He's tried to take care of them himself, but he couldn't exactly get rid of them. So he resorted to letting sorcerers kill them since they were one of the only ones who can effectively take them on.

(Y/n) Gojo is one of the strongest sorcerers he has, so she was the one who was constantly working. She's one of the only sorcerers who can take down even the strongest curses with ease.

She refused to do so, unless he lets her three students go with her so they can grow. He was against it at first, seeing how they were teenagers, practically kids! But (Y/n) wouldn't have it any other way. Hades reluctantly let her three students go with her.

Yuuji Itadori, a 15 year old boy who was the host of the king of curses, Ryomen Sukuna, Megumi Fushiguro, another 15 year old boy who seemed to be Sukuna's interest and Nobara Kugisaki, a teenage girl.

During the three months of eliminating curses, her students have continued to grow stronger.

They were her precious students, and she won't allow anyone to separate them from her....

"How long until we find this curse?" Nobara complained, already feeling bored from the long walking. Megumi rolled his eyes and continued looking around. Yuuji didn't complain at all and was helping Megumi.

"Relax, we'll find that curse!" Yuuji said, smiling at Nobara.

"He's so handsome." A female said to herself, catching the three teenager's attention, as well as yours. The female revealed herself to be a nymph, but as soon as she was visible, the curse had appeared and brutally murdered the nymph. Megumi immediately summoned his wolves, the black and white ones ready to fight the curse.

A certain god with long, pink hair was nearby, wanting to take a break from the nymphs. Apollo had heard the commotion and went over to see what was going on. The god saw three teenage kids fighting a curse along with a grown woman with a blindfold over her eyes.

But this curse proved to be too much for the three teenagers and you had to finish it off, which you did with ease using black flash.

"I've never seen a human perform such a technique. It's.... Amazing."

Unbeknownst to the four of them, the same god had watched the whole fight, more focused on you. You're very beautiful, and he knew it.

A man your age with long black hair with parts of it tied up came over, asking you to go relax, even for just a bit. At first, you refused because you didn't want to be separated from your students, but they managed to convince you.

You lifted your blindfold up, revealing one of the most beautiful eyes Apollo has ever seen in his immortal life. Multiple sparkles of lights reflected brightly in your sky blue eyes, layered by white eyelashes.

"Her eyes.... They're like the blue skies themselves...." Apollo thought.

"Sure. I can also take a load off for a bit." You replied, putting the blindfold over your eyes. You urged them to go ahead, while you follow behind. When they were far enough, Apollo decided now was the time to get the woman's attention.

"Hey!"

You turned your head, seeing the pink haired God approach you with a smirk on his face. You now looked slightly disinterested, though it was hard to tell.

"I assume you're Apollo?~" You asked, folding your arms. Apollo felt his confidence grow from your acknowledgement of him.

"I am. But that's not why I'm here." Apollo replied, flipping some of his hair back.

"Make it quick then." You said.

"I've seen your beautiful techniques and-"

"Not interested. I've already did what I needed to do for now, and I'd like to relax." (Y/n) replied, turning back around and started walking away. Apollo was surprised at her answer, just watching her leave.

"What?- You-"

"Besides... You're too weak~" You finally spoke, looking back with a grin and looking forward. Apollo knows he should be angry at the audacity of this woman. But he couldn't. Instead...

He was more attracted to her.

And so began his little quest to win your heart. Ever since then, he's been watching your every step, figuring out your likes and dislikes and more effective ways to get closer to you.

Whenever he meets you in person, he later found out that you were oddly playful and nonchalant, despite your cruelty towards curses. Your interactions slowly grew, even if Apollo had to do it first. At first, you didn't want anything to do with Apollo, but he keeps coming to you, so you just let him do whatever.

But doing that only increased his love for you.

Apollo has always seen you with the man with long black hair, whose name is Geto Suguru. From your interactions with him, he has a strong connection with you, and it enrages him. He hates the way Suguru gets close to you. He didn't like the attention you give Geto. You always greeted with a playful smile, and he wishes he was the one you smile at.

He has to get rid of him, so you can only give him the attention you give Geto. Geto Suguru.... Has to go.

So that you'll have no choice but to love him and him only~

[cynicalclairvoyantcadaver]

Solangelo is weird

Ok, so………Solangelo is kind of weird. Like, it's just so RANDOM.

What, you're telling me that Nico, Nico di Angelo, an important character in the original PJO series and also HOO, who gets his own POV, just suddenly gets together with a random doctor………Will Solace? We see Will in what, The Last Olympian? And then we see him again in The Lost Hero, BARELY, just a few lines, and then again in Blood of Olympus, where he tells Nico that the latter that he's dense but not stupid? Which would be enough to piss Nico off? And then in Trials of Apollo……….they're…………TOGETHER? We barely got any chemistry or screentime, and what with Nico's internalized homophobia and years-long crush on Percy……….. HE WOULD NOT DO THAT. You don't just kiss someone your gender after only MONTHS of internalized homophobia, especially when Nico is from the LITERAL 1930s, where people were MURDERED for being gay.

It's clear that Rick only gave him a partner to 'confirm' it, which is something that infuriates me, because people can be gay without having partners. And also, Will is so random and such a random, thrown-in character that I find it funny at times. Also, he's a terrible doctor and boyfriend for giving Nico's medical information to other people without Nico's consent-and he's 16. He clearly knows that he shouldn't do it. And he still does it. Rick………again, WTF Rick.

@rosabell14, tagging you for this one because I know how much you hate Solangelo.