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loserscanwritetoo · 10 months ago

Text

Starman

Chapter 2

“Girls love girls and boys (Sophisticated, manipulated)

Girls love girls and boys (Sophisticated, manipulated)

And never did I think that I

Would be caught in the way you got me

But girls love girls and boys

And love is not a choice-”

Will desperately reached for his phone, attempting to shut off his alarm. He HATED Travis and Connor for putting his alarm as that stupid Panic!at the disco song when he had come out to them.

He hated them even more for what they’d said over facetime last night. The brothers shared a room, and their favorite pastime seemed to be facetiming him, Leo or Luke.

“You totally like him”

“I’m just saying Will, I haven’t ever seen you look at someone like that”

“And! He’s sweet”

He could stand a little teasing, especially if it was true, but what he couldn’t stand was getting mixed signals. Nico had been really kind to him yesterday, even though he quite clearly was uncomfortable at times, and then last night he’d gotten a text from him explaining that he was going to hang out with Hazel and her friends today.

Had Nico found Will’s friends annoying? Or worse, was Nico a homophobe, and had Hazel told him he was bisexual?

He made his way out of bed and got dressed before heading to school, where he met up with his gang. The Stoll brothers were bragging to some freshmen about their graffiti job over the school name. He quickly jumped into the conversation and poked fun at his friends but got distracted as he watched a car roll up.

Nico was behind the wheel, and he looked to be in a heated debate with Hazel, who opened her door and let their argument be overheard by everyone in the near area.

“I’m just saying, Artemis would totally beat Apollo in a fight!”

“I literally don't care Hazel, you're just pissed off because I won the game!”

“Who even plays Mythomagic anymore!?”

“You did 20 minutes ago and you have not stopped arguing since we left home.” Hazel went quiet at that, and Will watched Nico smirk before pressing a cigarette between his lips. Nico looked great. There was no denying it. He wore a black t-shirt with a skull on it under the same flight jacket he'd worn yesterday. And he knew how to drive. That was cool.

“Helloooo, earth to Will” Will suddenly burst out of his creepy staring to face Leo who grinned at him knowingly. Of course the Stoll’s had told him. Will really hoped they hadn’t told Luke.

Luke was relatively new to their group. He had joined them at lunch one day and muttered something about an argument with his girlfriend, and that's the last thing they had ever heard about her. He was their friend now, that's just the way it was. Luke was older than the rest of them, and never failed to take an opportunity to tell the others. He was also a football player, which pretty much meant he was their best friend, unless he was hanging with his real friends.

God, Will hated football players. They were loud, mean, and always ended up getting hurt, and since Will volunteered in the infirmary, he was the one who had to patch them up, and they never failed to remark that they didn’t want a queer boy touching them. As if Will would ever be interested in one of them. So yeah, Will hated football players.

But Luke was honestly fine to hang out with. He never said much, and spent most of his time in the gym, or on the field, meaning of course, that Leo, the Stoll’s and Will came to all of his games.

Luke said a quick bye, and muttered something about going to the gym before his first lesson, and to Will’s dismay, the others wouldn’t let him stare at Nico. They dragged him into school and started up a new conversation about birds, or machines, or pranks, or anything. Will wasn’t paying attention.

He was lucky his math lesson was hard. He couldn't seem to wrap his head around the Pythagorean theorem, and Leo wasn’t of any help. He was folding airplanes out of his papers, and sneakily threw them at the teacher when she wasn’t watching.

Will had second period free, and he let his legs lead him to the music room, as they often did. He found himself at the piano, playing and singing some Hozier song he had just learnt.

He really loved music. He always had. His dad used to be in a band, and Will was often told that he learnt to play piano before he could talk, and honestly, that wouldn't surprise him. He loved music, and he loved getting lost in it. There was something about the way his fingers tenderly played the keys, the way the sound left the slightly out of tune piano, that really stuck with him. This was his own personal slice of heaven. He kept playing and singing, playing and singing, and was so lost in the music that he didn't notice the door opening. He was pulled out of his trance by the sound of hands clapping, and looked up to see no one else but Nico di Angelo.

“That was beautiful,” he smiled. “I had no idea you could play.” Will felt his cheeks heat up, and he quickly looked away.

“My dad taught me.”

“I liked it” Nico turned around and started to walk away, but Will needed to ask him something, and quickly tried to save the conversation.

“Hey Nico?” he asked, still trying to find the right words. “Why, ehm, why didn't you want to sit with us today?” Will made a mental note to go bang his head in a wall when Nico had left. Could he sound more pathetic and childish? Nico looked confused for a second, as if deep i thought, before answering.

“Well, Hazel asked me to spend time with her today.” was all he said before turning around, and quickly making his exit. Will knew that there was something he wasn’t telling him.

Later that day Will met up with his friends, and did his absolute best not to bring up the awkward meeting in the music room. He had decided to forget about Nico. He clearly didn’t want anything to do with them, and Will was done chasing after straight guys.

He managed to keep his head off the raven boy until that night. Will was going to do what he always did after school, check up on his fathers grave and leave a flower or two, but as he got to the graveyard, he noticed that he wasn’t alone. He found Nico sitting by the memorial candles, muttering to himself. Will did his absolute best to get closer and hear what he was saying, and after a not-so-subtle fall into a bush, he was finally within earshot, but to his dismay, he couldn't understand a word the other boy was saying. He was speaking in some other language, Italian maybe?

That’s when his luck ran out and he stepped on a branch, which cracked so loudly that Will was sure everyone within 20 miles heard it. Nico looked up at him, and Will watched his expression.

Nicos eyes were bloodshot, as if he’d been crying, and he quickly wiped his nose before running off, not saying a word.

Fuck, Will thought to himself. He had just ruined whatever little chance he’d had with the guy. He quickly dropped off flowers at his fathers grave and headed home, making sure to text the group chat.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ 𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Will

Guys

I think I might’ve really fucked up

Leo

what did u do

Travis

pls tell me you didnt stalk Nico

Connor

OR PLEASE SAY THAT YOU DID

DO IT FOR THE PLOT

Leo

shut up Con

Will

I was at the graveyard paying my respects

And he was there

And I think he was speaking Italian to some candles?

Luke

LMFAO

BROS TALKING TO GHOSTS GHOST BOY

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ 𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Will sighed and dropped his phone to his chest when someone knocked at his door. It was his brother Lee.

“It’s your turn to cook.” Will rolled his eyes. As the eldest sibling in a house of seven kids he naturally got more responsibility. He wished he could get upset at his mother for not taking care of them since dad died, but he couldn't. Naomi Solace was bipolar. She couldn’t help not being able to take care of them, and since she refused to take her meds nowadays Will ended up being the one to care for her and the other kids.

So he had made a schedule. Well. Travis had made a schedule, detailing who was to do what on which days, and apparently today was a Will day.

Honestly, Will was a good cook, and he prepared pasta carbonara for the rest of the kids, and once everyone had settled down around the table and started eating, he brought the eighth plate into his mothers room.

The curtains were pulled down, and he couldn’t see anything, but a soft voice reached out to him from under the covers.

“Will honey? Is that you?” Will nodded, before realizing she couldn’t see him, and let out a soft ‘yes’. He put down the plate next to her bed, and picked up the old plates. She hadn’t even touched them.

He slowly backed into the kitchen, and fell into conversation with his siblings, and finally his thoughts were drawn away from Nico. Instead he thought of his sick mother, and honestly, that thought wasn’t much better.

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the-ghost-king · 4 years ago

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time for me to share a good™️ headcanon: will and nico love to steal each other’s clothes but their massive size difference makes it so obvious that they’re doing it. nico’s shirts are almost croptops on will and will’s sweaters are practically a dress on nico bc will is like 6’2 and nico’s like 5’5

Anon! Anon! Yes, you. You get it.

I don’t really know what you wanted as a response to this but I felt inspired for the first time in some 10 months so I gifted you a one shot below the “read more”. I’ll also upload it to Ao3 with a link in the notes...

Anyhow Anon, I hope you enjoy it! I got a little off topic but reflective fluff is always good!

If you would have asked Will what he wanted out of life as a kid you probably would have gotten an answer that was something like “a chance to actually go and live life as it was meant to be” or maybe “to be happy, pretty, and stupid”.

He didn’t dare to hope for more, demigods didn’t live long lives, and being involved in a major battle at thirteen didn’t do wonders in regards to establishing confidence in your survival. As for the “pretty and stupid” part of his answer, it wasn’t that Will had ever hated being smart, he just hated the disconnect different intelligence levels caused in peer groups and society; being smart was hard, sure for school purposes it was nice, but that intelligence means you’re constantly thinking and so often so much of the world seems so dull and petty. Will had been lucky enough to be blessed with decent looks, moving through the world was made easy in at least that regard, but he wished he could live without thinking so much because so often he could only see so much awful in the world.

Thirteen year old Will wouldn’t have dared hope for anything more, he wouldn’t have dared hope for anything else more than a decade or so of normal life beyond camp and a chance at an easy life for those few years. When fourteen year old Will got a depression diagnosis he wouldn’t say he was surprised, he would have been annoyed but he hadn’t really felt much of anything in years. (”Atypical depression” The doctor had said, “likely clinical”) A few different types of anti-depressants and a few months of therapy things started feeling okay, better at least. Fifteen came and went, he tried to go off the pills and didn’t quite get there, but his dose got lowered which Will supposed was nice.

In the months of early 16, Nico di Angelo stumbles into his life; exhausted and melting under the pressure of the universe, he makes friends with death. It isn’t much, but Will remembers him from when they were kids back before any major fights. He remembers hearing about Nico running off and he felt bad for not having made a continued effort to get to know him. He felt bad when he left after the Battle of Manhattan too, they’d prepped bodies for their departure together and Will had gotten hung up in the infirmary (he had been one of the last Apollo campers and he was the only one with medical training). In some ways, Will supposed he was making up for those lost years when he didn’t have time to befriend Nico as he would have liked, it made him feel like he was at least trying.

In the beginning things were undeniably rocky, Nico was constantly hooked to machines just so Will could guarantee he wouldn’t die overnight. Even on Nico’s first night in the infirmary he had struggles with sleep, the bed wasn’t comfortable enough and after trying a large variety of options Will had hauled Nico and all of his equipment out to the porch on the back of the infirmary and they slept there for those three days (which turned into two weeks), wrapped up in jackets and in a pile of blankets beneath camp’s fall skies.

Within a few months, they fell in love.

Okay listen, people can call Will ridiculous all they want- but love at first sight is real and he experienced it. He didn’t know it but the day he met Nico and looked into the dark browns of his eyes, he thought something about how his eyes looked like ash from the fireplace at Mama’s house, or how they looked like the soil that his windowsill plants grew from. If you would have asked Will what he thought of Nico the very first time they’d met, he would have told you something about how his eyes were “big, dark, and round like a baby cow”. What Will really meant is that Nico reminded him of the family ranch house he grew up in, he meant he looked like home.

At the time Will just hadn’t known that was what love felt like, but when he figured it out one day teaching Nico how to play Hold ‘em on the back porch of the infirmary with a light breeze and setting sun as they settles down for bed; he knew one thing, he didn’t want anything more than to make Nico happy and he hoped that he could be a part of that more than anything.

It took a little longer for Nico to come around, he had his own demons to battle. Internalized homophobia, even in small doses, is a real downer to say the least, let alone when you’re fighting demons you’ve manifested for some 15 years. The biggest struggle however, was probably in all honesty the fact that Nico was so goddamned oblivious. After spending years alone with limited human contact at best, and having spent so many years desperately wanting Percy to notice him, and being met with negative reactions, Nico didn’t know what love looked like anymore. How had he been supposed to know he was in love with Will?

There was a lot of subtle back and forth, would the other even be interested in a guy? It ended one day with an unplanned kiss followed by a declaration. Will called it the best mistake he ever made, neither of them really thought it was a mistake.

It was days like today that only proved that.

Will had woken up to Nico’s face on a pillow next to him. He’d fallen asleep with his hair pulled back in a ponytail, and some of his smaller hairs had fallen loose in the night and now framed his peaceful face. The first rays of golden sunlight fell through accidentally left open curtains, and Will reached out to brush a stray piece of dark hair and place it behind Nico’s ear.

He woke up to a morning more beautiful than he would have ever hoped for at 13, and he would always be glad for that. He would always be grateful for how far he had come in not quite a decade. At just twenty-two he was 4 years into medical school, and three years married to Nico and he truly believed he was one of the happiest men in the world simply because he made Nico happy.

In time, Nico too would wake up.

First with a huff, and then a grumbling noise of annoyance as he rubbed his face with his arm as though trying to block out light before half-asleep Nico seemed to accept his fate and wake up fully.

“Good morning”

“How long have you been up?”

“Awhile”

Nico made a knowledgeable humming sound, perhaps he was just acknowledging Will’s response or perhaps he was saying ‘of course’.

A few kisses, a short conversation, and a couple of “I love you”’s later, they got out of bed.

Nico's was wearing Will's high school hoodie that was a bit too short on Will anymore like it was a dress on him. The hoodie went down to Nico’s knees, he's got his own black shorts on because Will's just fall off unless he ties them really really tight. He's got black socks pulled up almost to his knees, there’s a little gap between the end of Nico’s shorts and the start of his socks. The hoodie goes down an inch or two past his short pockets, and he goes outside to grab the mail with a pair of unlaced combat boots on his feet. He's got his skull ring on his middle finger of his right hand, and his left hand holds a simple wedding band which glint in the light as he opens the front door. His hair is pulled up into a messy ponytail, some of it is up some of it is down, there's tons of flyaway hairs which frame his face since he hasn’t fixed it sense getting out of bed.

Call it a cliché, but Nico looks like Heaven personified without even trying.

Sure, everyone looks nice in a suit or a dress, but how many people can roll out of bed without doing their hair wearing a decade old hoodie and look like they belong in a magazine spread?

Will is wearing one of Nico's looser shirts, on Nico it comes down past his hips and a little onto his thighs, on Will is he so much as lifts his arms a centimeter it reveals his hip bones. He doesn’t really mind, he kind of likes it to be entirely honest. Will can remember being just a few inches shorter than he is now and fitting fairly comfortably in Nico’s clothes at the time, they had never worried whose clothes they grabbed back then. Nico had finished his growth spirt and Will had thought he was done only two inches taller, it didn’t matter whose clothes were whose because everything fit well enough.

That wasn't quite the case now, Nico had stayed at his casual 5"5 while Will had shot up and extra six inches to 6"2 and ruined his own chances of sharing clothes. Such as right now he was sure he was wearing his own sweats, because he had specifically had to get a pair last night despite Nico's having been more accessible. Anytime he's actually managed to get a pair of Nico's pants comfortably on in the last few years, result in him wearing pants that are more like compression shorts or capris than pants.

Will was just happy he could wear some of Nico's larger shirts and hoodies still, the fact that Nico preferred to sleep in lots of clothes and typically baggy clothes meant Will had some options when it came to wearing his husbands stuff.

Will has also managed to steal a pair of Nico's socks, they're a taller pair on Nico (he buys winter wear so often because he's cold always) but on Will they gather a little awkwardly around his ankle. Will doesn't usually wear socks but they had gone to bed without the heat on and apparently the cold had set in over night and you could definitely feel it on their apartment floors.

The clothes would be a bit stretched out from him, it was something Will can remember being worried about after his second growth spurt, but Nico doesn't mind, He's assured Will of this time and time again, he says something about "aesthetic" and "alternative". Will doesn't really know, he's never cared much for fashion but he'll take Nico's word on it.

The truth, although it's something Nico would only admit in their bed late at night when it was so dark you could barely see his face, and arguably a little drunk as well, was that he actually enjoyed the way the clothes fit better after Will wore them. He found some sort of comfort in the way the shoulders of his shirts would be just a little too wide on him, it was one of those small acts of love, it wasn't one Will entirely understood but both of them got their own sort of enjoyment out of Will stretching out Nico's sleeping clothes some so they went with it.

Will turns his attention from Nico walking out the door to the coffee pot on the countertop.

Will doesn't like coffee much, he likes the social aspect of getting a cup more. Nico had introduced him to it, he’d been drinking it for years by the time they’d left camp. It reminded him of home and he grew to like it for such reasons, and although Nico would consume just about anything with enough caffeine in it Will needed creamer to enjoy coffee to any amount.

They were both honestly probably more tea people, but they never seemed to remember to buy any. Will will try to remember to write it down on the grocery list later, but Nico has walked back into the kitchen, climbed up on the counter next to Will and now he is looking at him; and Nico is always a distraction that's worthy of taking, Will will definitely forget to write down tea for their grocery list and the week will start over with more coffee in the house and no tea.

Nico’s fingers grip the countertop and he swings his legs a little bit back and forth from where he sits on the black granite, his white gold rings set against the counter in contrast. Will's worn out blue hoodie looks grey with age, the little printed letters are cracked and peeling on the back of it, his last name can still be read in white though.

Will knows the cliché about your lover wearing your name is often unhealthy and overly possessive, but he likes seeing Nico with his name because it feels like a gift. It’s like he’s given Nico a part of himself and Nico accepted it with pride, and Will loves that, he loves him and Nico being little pieces of each other.

Nico is smiling at him, and leans just so, Will turns in acknowledgment of the gesture, and moves so he’s standing to the left of Nico. Nico crosses his legs at the ankle and leans towards Will laying his head against Will where his neck and shoulder meet. Will leans forward and buries his face into Nico’s hair, comfortable and a little sleepy still.

"Coffee?"

"Mhmm."

"Good."

Will isn't the best cook, for fucks sake he's not even someone who could be considered a good cook, but he can handle this. Nico taught him the basics when they were still living at camp, Will failed every time, he ended up going home for a short period for Christmas break and begging his mom "teach me how to make eggs" he left off the bit about impressing Nico but he knows she knew. When he came back Nico had just smiled at him, "you practiced huh?"

Will hadn't gotten better at making much else, some eggs, toast, coffee and he could boil water now too! He had burnt lots of stuff over the years, plastic containers in the microwave, a plastic ladle they had on the stove top, at least 100 failed attempts at grilled cheese. Will was honestly just happy he hadn’t blown up any microwaves since he was a kid...

Nico had come home to many of Will's failed attempts at making him various things, sometimes the food was underdone other times it was bits of inedible char. Will did try, he really did, but the heat was always too high or he would end up distracted, or he would use sugar on accident instead of salt. Will did actually try, but his best attempts still often left something to be desired, so he often was the one doing dishes.

Most notably one time Nico had come home to him attempting to pan-frying some fish.

It had been supposed to be a surprise, it was Nico's birthday, and Will had had the day off of class even though Nico hadn't. He figured he would have surprised him; it had been back in their first apartment, not quite as nice as this one. A cheap tiled cream counter top that Nico had literally cringed at when seeing it the first time, the cabinets had somehow been cheaper than a set from IKEA and it had become an inside joke to them.

He had walked in the apartment to see smoke coming off the pan with a bit of flame still coming off it, and a large piece of charred fish stuck to the bottom of one of their frying pans.

"Hey dumbass, what did you do in here?"

People thought they were an odd couple, Will could see that. The whole parallel people drew between light and dark and optimism and pessimism and such between them, none of those people were really correct though. Will and Nico were more similar than they were different. At the end of the day it didn’t really matter what people said, Will liked Nico, he loved him in all honesty- he'd never heard the word "dumbass" said with so much affection.

Nico was hard for most people to read, years along had left him struggling emotionally in some manner; he did his best to hide most of his emotions, cloak them so heavily that sometimes they were even unrecognizable to Nico himself.

The most obvious example of this in regards to Nico was how "shut up" often meant "I love you", "idiot" was synonymous with "darling" in some ways. Don't get Will wrong, Nico could be very affectionate, but pet names came with hesitation for him in the early days; Should he use Venetian, Italian, or English? Masculine words that were romantic had been hard for him to say as well... But everyday he grew and got better, and Will was proud of him every time he called Will “dear” and didn’t hesitate before or after.

Nico had started masking his emotions at some point during his time at Westover, whatever he had done there hadn’t been much more than how much the average person masked their feelings, but when he started training with Minos Nico had doubled down on keeping his emotions secretive. Minos hadn’t been kind or safe in any sense of the word, emotions were what he used to manipulate Nico all that time, it was no wonder Nico developed such a strong sense of apathy towards anything overtime.

Nico could be affectionate, he could be the most loving person to ever exist. Nico’s emotions were sort of like secrets, if you stayed awake late enough into the night you would only come to know him then, such was the nature of him. He often whispered so quietly his wants and needs into the dark, there was some sense of fear tied to Nico’s vulnerability and he handed off his worries each night to the stars soft glow. Nico often refused to talk openly during the day, but at night apologies and truth always came, he had known what he had wanted earlier he had simply been to afraid of the rejection to acknowledge it, Will is glad that with the years the worst of such things is over; it is unlikely to be something Nico will ever fully grow out of, such is the nature of humanity, but progress is a virtue.

Such times not only resulted in Nico’s acknowledgement of his wants and faults, but also garnered the most affection from Nico. Nico couldn’t always communicate in an effective manner verbally, which was still a process they were working on, but he did his best. Nico’s act of love was like that of a small bird, he gave you small things that seemed insignificant until you realized he had only ever told you such things. Will fell in love with him for it, it wasn’t just about the way he would describe the wallpaper in his childhood bedroom, it was the fact that nobody knew anything else about Nico’s childhood bedroom.

Will had never truly understood the concept of “touch starved” until he met Nico, he had known the definition sure, but he had never truly witnessed it. Nico never asked for touch, but it was the way he leaned into it, the way he sought it out; pressing up against Will’s hand like a cat stretching trying to get a little more contact somehow, trying to make the touch last just a bit longer so he could savor it properly. It was literally starving in some manner, starving for contact that wasn’t a goodbye or a hit, just for wordless contact. When he grew comfortable he gave affection fully, there was a joy in holding Nico’s hand, knowing that he felt safe enough not to worry about the effect a few extra seconds of prepping for a fight that holding hands would add.

Nico didn’t show affection in big ways, and that was more than okay with Will; they were laid back in comparison to most, he’d have sought the comfort of placing soap bubbles on each others head in the tub a hundred times over a night on the town. Nico’s affection was something quiet and almost secretive, unknown to anyone it wasn’t directed at; it was the way he would lead Will out of a room to kiss him, or the quiet way he whispered “I love you” into Will’s ear when in public.

Will supposes in the early days “shut up” became “I love you” in order to avoid being seen as weak in some manner, in order to avoid acknowledging what he really wanted to say and having Will not respond in kind. Will didn't mind, they weren't an overly affectionate pairing- banter was common, almost everything they did was turned into some sort of game, the term "boys will be boys" definitely applied to their relationship of 3am pillow fights, late night discussions about what order the Christmas ornaments had to go up on the tree in, and whenever they wrote thesis papers for living room debates over the best Disney villain.

Will honestly preferred it that way, he preferred having the little moments reserved for solely them. He preferred the aversion to sappy clichés, the way a lover could say your name with exasperation and a smile that meant the whole world. He had seen what some other couples had, quick kisses in lines at cafes, holding hands across the table, and calling each other pet names they’d made up that were somehow ten times worse than the original- and Will didn’t want that.

It wasn’t that what those couples had wasn’t love, it just wasn’t love in a way Will could understand, it wasn’t love Will felt from those sort of exchanges. He didn’t understand the idea of “butterflies in your stomach”, love wasn’t nerves, love was like coming home after a long day, love was the way someone could say your name like it was divine, love was the way someone would smirk at you when you were missing the point, love was not being afraid to cry in front of them, it was knowing you could show up to them with any problem and instead of leaving you they would research the ins and outs of it in all their entirety.

The coffee maker makes a sound, Nico lifts his head of off Will’s body and the deep browns of his eyes are like the freshly turned dirt of fields in planting season, and Will feels like there’s a garden growing in his chest that Nico feeds. Nico sits straight on the counter and pulls his legs up and sits cross legged on the counter as he pulls out his hairband, and runs his fingers through his hair before pulling it back up without all the flyaways.

Will moves towards the coffee machine, pours it into two cups, and sets one on the counter beside Nico before making his way to the fridge to grab creamer. Nico’s watching him right now, but there’s no need for talking; there will be talking in a minute. Talking about Will’s schedule for the week, talk of whatever project Nico is working on right now, talk of what they should do for dinner the rest of the week, little sweet nothings, and eventually they’ll make their way to the couch to watch some tv and maybe later in the day they’ll play some sort of game or something as well.

So yeah, maybe "light" and "dark" were polar opposites and some people would have walked out on the word dumbass rather than immediately loving it, but Will liked it- everyday was a game of sorts, a new adventure, all with Nico who he loved. Coming home from work wasn’t necessarily about the place Will lived but knowing Nico would be there for him to see was the point of going home, home was wherever Nico was and some small part of Will hoped eternity was real in some manner.

Will remembered when Michael had died thinking nothing could possibly get worse, and in some ways he was kind of right; he had ended up with some sort of demigod style fairy tale ending with the man he loved, and that was ten times better than anything fifteen year old Will would have hoped for.

#solangelo #Nico di angelo #Will solace #pjo #hoo

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my-random-ocs · 3 years ago

Text

Rise Up Prologue

Pairing: Stiles Stlinski x OC (eventual)

Warnings: Swirlies, water, mentions of death

Author’s Note: Hi, everyone! I am really excited about this. Honestly, I woke up one day and was like, what if I made a Teen Wolf PJO crossover? So, of course I had to make one. Zia already existed in the Teen Wolf universe, but I also made her exist in the PJO stories. This will cover Battle of the Labyrinth through the Heroes of Olympus, as well as seasons 3-6 of Teen Wolf. Her love interest is Stiles, which will happen eventually. Hope you enjoy!

|| Masterlist || Next >>>

“Hey,” I greeted, walking over to Annabeth, who was sitting by the door of the Hermes cabin, reading a book.

“Hey,” Annabeth repeated, looking up from her book.

“So, the drooling boy is on his way?” I asked, sitting next to her.

She sent me a look. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“Nope,” I said cheerfully.

She groaned. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Chiron leading Percy Jackson over to us, and nudge Annabeth, causing her to follow my gaze. We stood up to greet them.

“Annabeth, Zia,” Chiron said. “I have masters’ archery class at noon. Would you two take Percy from here?”

Annabeth and I nodded. “Yes, sir,” Annabeth said.

“You got it,” I added.

“Cabin eleven,” Chiron told Percy, nodding toward the building. “Make yourself at home.”

With that, he left, and Percy turned to Annabeth and I, looking nervous.

“Hi,” I smiled, sticking my hand out. “Zia Banerjee.”

“Percy Jackson,” he said, shaking my hand.

“Come on, you two,” Annabeth said, waving us inside.

I stepped right inside. Percy tripped on the way in, causing some kids to snicker.

“Percy Jackson, meet cabin eleven,” Annabeth announced.

“Regular or undetermined?” A voice asked. I recognized it as Connor Stoll.

“Undetermined,” Annabeth answered, and everyone groaned.

“Now, now, campers. That’s what we’re here for.” Luke Castellan, cabin counselor and my sister’s boyfriend, stepped through the crowd. Nisha herself was right behind him. I gave my sister a little wave, and grinned, winking at me. Luke smiled at Percy. “Welcome, Percy. You can have that spot on the floor, right over there.”

“This is Luke,” Annabeth introduced. She had a slight blush. “He’s your counselor for now.”

“For now?” Percy asked.

“You’re undetermined,” Luke elaborated patiently. “They don’t know which cabin to put you in, so you’re here. Cabin eleven takes all newcomers, all visitors. Naturally, we would. Hermes, our patron, is the god of travelers.”

“And this is my sister, Nisha,” I said, gesturing to her.

“And our mom!” Another voice called out. Travis Stoll’s this time. Everyone giggled.

Percy looked confused at that, but asked instead, “How long will I be here?”

“Until you’re determined,” Nisha said.

“How long will that take?”

Most of the cabin laughed.

“We don’t know yet,” I said, and nodded toward the door. “Come on, Annabeth and I will keep giving you a tour.”

I heard Nisha quieting the kids’ laughter as the door shut behind us.

As we moved away from the cabin, Percy turned to look at me. “So you and that girl are…”

“Nisha,” I answered. “We’re full siblings. Pretty much raised me. She’s dating Luke.”

“Did you have a mom or a dad?” Percy asked.

Annabeth was quick to glare at him, but I didn’t mind the question.

“Our mom is Aphrodite,” I said cheerfully. “The gods aren’t really around enough to raise their kids. Our dad… he died two years ago. Monster attack. It’s how we got to camp.”

“I’m sorry,” Percy said softly, and I knew he was thinking about his mom. “Someone called her ‘Mom’. Is she his mom?”

I laughed, shaking my head. “That was one of the Stoll brothers. Nisha is not his mother. Nisha is nineteen, and older than most campers. She’s sort of a mix between mom and older sister for a lot of the younger campers. Since she’s the oldest Aphrodite kid at camp, she’s our senior counselor. Cabin ten, over there.” I pointed to a pink cabin a few feet away.

Percy nodded in understanding. “Are you from Long Island?”

I shook my head again. “Beacon Hills, California, but I live here full time. Most campers go back to their mortal families for the school year, but there are some, like Nisha and I, that stay year-round. We’re… homeschooled here, I guess you can say.”

“Do you miss it?” Percy asked.

I nodded, feeling sad then. “Yeah. I do. I loved it there- it was home. I had friends, did well in school, despite the learning stuff. I even skipped second grade. I think about going back all the time.” I started to finger my camp necklace, with the locket charm that held pictures that were special to me.

Percy opened his mouth to respond, but Annabeth noticed the look on my face, and said suddenly, “Let’s go see the volleyball courts.” She grabbed his arm and dragged him along with her, leaving me to follow.

“But I’ve already seen them,” Percy protested.

“Jackson, you have to do better than that,” Annabeth said.

“What?”

“I can’t believe I thought you were the one,” Annabeth muttered, and I rolled my eyes.

“Oh, don’t be dramatic,” I said.

“What’s your problem?” Percy demanded. “All I know is, I kill some bull guy-”

“Don’t talk like that!” Annabeth interrupted. “You know how many kids at this camp wish they’d had your chance?”

“To get killed?”

“To fight the Minotaur! What do you think we train for?”

Percy shook his head. “Look, if the thing I fought really was the Minotaur, the same one in the stories…”

“That’s the one,” I confirmed.

“Then there’s only one.”

“Yep.”

“And he died, like, a gajillion years ago, right? Theseus killed him in the labyrinth. So…”

“Monsters don’t die, Percy,” Annabeth said, exasperated. “They can be killed. But they don’t die.”

“Oh, thanks. That clears it up.” He rolled his eyes, and I snorted.

“They don’t have mortal souls like we do,” I elaborated. “You can eliminate them for a while, maybe a whole lifetime if you’re really lucky. But they’re primal forces. Chiron calls them archetypes. Eventually, inevitably, they will reform.”

Percy thought about that for a moment. “You mean, if I killed one, accidentally, with a sword-”

“The Fur-” Annabeth cut herself off. “I mean, your math teacher. That’s right. She’s still out there. You just made her very, very mad.”

“How did you know about Mrs. Dodds?”

“You talk in your sleep,” Annabeth stated.

“You almost called her something,” Percy noticed. “A Fury? They’re Hades’ torturers, right?”

Annabeth glanced at the ground nervously as I told Percy, “You shouldn’t call them by name, even at camp. If we absolutely have to call them anything, we call them the Kindly Ones.”

“Look, is there anything we can say without it thundering?” Percy asked. I understood what he was feeling. I felt the same way on my first official day here. “Why do I even have to stay in cabin eleven, anyway? Why is everybody so crowded together? There are plenty of empty bunks right over there.”

He pointed to the first couple of cabins, and I immediately shook my head. “You can’t just stay in any random cabin. The cabin you stay in depends on who your parent is. Nisha and I, we stay in the Aphrodite cabin because that’s who our mother is. We can’t stay in, say, the Apollo cabin because we aren’t Apollo’s children.”

“My mom is Sally Jackson,” Percy said, not quite getting it. “She works at the candy store in Grand Central Station. At least, she used to.”

I sighed. “I’m really sorry about your mom, Percy. I remember what it was like when my father died- how it still is sometimes. But that’s not what I mean. I’m talking about your other parent.”

“My dad is dead. I never knew him.”

Annabeth sighed. We’ve both had this conversation with other demigods before. “Your father’s not dead, Percy,” she said.

“How can you say that? You know him?”

“No, of course not.”

“Then how can you say-”

“Because we know you,” Annabeth countered. “You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t one of us.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” Percy said.

Annabeth raised a challenging eyebrow. “No? I bet you moved from school to school. I bet you were kicked out of a lot of them.”

“How-”

I took over. “Diagnosed with dyslexia. Probably ADHD, too. Maybe even on the autism spectrum, too. You’d be surprised how much ADHD and autism overlap. I’m all three.”

“I’m ADHD and dyslexic,” Percy confirmed. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Grouped together, it’s almost a sure sign,” Annabeth said. “The letters float off the page when you read, right? That’s because your mind is hardwired for ancient Greek. And the ADHD- you’re impulsive, can’t sit still in the classroom. That’s your battlefield reflexes. In a real fight, they’d keep you alive. As for the attention problems, that’s because you see too much, Percy, not too little. Your senses are better than a regular mortal’s. Of course the teachers want you medicated. Most of them are monsters. They don’t want you seeing them for what they are.”

Percy looked like he was trying hard to process everything. “You sound like… you went through the same thing?”

“Most of us did,” I said. “If you weren’t like us, you couldn’t have survived the Minotaur, much less the ambrosia and nectar.”

“Ambrosia and nectar,” Percy deadpanned.

“The food and drink we gave you to make you get better,” I explained. “That stuff would kill a normal kid. It would have turned your blood to fire and your bones to sand and then you would be dead. Face it. You’re a demigod.”

Percy looked like he had a million questions, but didn’t know where to start.

Before he could figure it out, a voice called out, “Well! A newbie.”

Clarisse La Rue, head counselor of the Ares cabin, sauntered toward us. She had three of her sisters behind her, wearing matching camo jackets.

“Clarisse,” Annabeth sighed. “Why don’t you go polish your spear or something?”

“Sure, Miss Princess,” Clarisse said. “So I can run you through with it Friday night.”

“Erre es karakes!” Annabeth cursed. Go to the crows! It’s a worse curse than it sounded. “You don’t stand a chance.”

“We’ll pulverize you,” Clarisse promised, but we all knew she wouldn’t be able to go through with it. She turned to Percy. “Who’s this little runt?”

“Percy Jackson,” I said, “meet Clarisse La Rue, daughter of Ares.”

“Like… the war god?” Percy asked.

“You got a problem with that?” Clarisse demanded.

“No. It explains the bad smell.”

I covered my snort with a cough, but I knew this may not end well.

“We got an initiation ceremony for newbies, Prissy,” Clarisse growled.

“Percy,” he corrected.

“Whatever. Come on, I’ll show you.”

“Clarisse-” Annabeth tried.

“Stay out of it, wise girl,” Clarisse snapped.

It took everything I had not to get involved, knowing that Percy would have to be the one to prove himself. He handed Annabeth his Minotaur horn and squared up, but Clarisse grabbed him before he could do anything, dragging him by the neck toward the girls’ bathrooms.

“Like he’s ‘Big Three’ material,” Clarisse mocked. “Yeah, right. Minotaur probably fell over laughing, he was so stupid looking.”

Her friends snickered.

Annabeth and I hovered in a corner. She was watching through her fingers as I clutched my camp necklace anxiously.

Clarisse forced Percy to his knees and started pushing his head toward the toilet bowl, but he tried hard to keep his head up.

Suddenly, the pipes started to groan, and a stream of water shot out of the toilet, straight over Percy’s head and into Clarisse’s face so hard she fell right onto her butt. I would have laughed if the other toilets hadn’t exploded, as well, and even the showers, spraying everyone in the vicinity with water. Gross.

By the end, the entire bathroom was flooded, and Clarisse and her friends had been pushed out the door. Only Annabeth and I, though soaking wet, were standing in the same place. She stared at Percy in shock while I grinned. That’s when I realized that Percy was still dry. There wasn’t a drop of water on his clothes, or in his hair, or anywhere. There was a circle of dry floor around him.

He stood, shaking slightly.

“How did you…” Annabeth started, then trailed off.

Percy looked just as mystified. “I don’t know.”

The three of us stepped outside and found Clarisse and her friends sprawled on the ground, and a bunch of other campers staring at the scene. She gave Percy a look of seething hatred. “You are dead, new boy,” she said. “You are totally dead.”

“You want to gargle with toilet water again, Clarisse?” Percy said. “Close your mouth.”

Her friends held her back, dragging her with them back to cabin five.

Annabeth stared at Percy. I knew her pretty well, and even I didn’t know whether or not she was about to pummel Percy for dousing her with gross toilet water.

“What?” Percy demanded. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking,” she said, “that I want you on my team for capture the flag.”

Later, after dinner, everyone headed down to the amphitheater, where the Apollo kids would lead a sing-along. The Hermes and Aphrodite cabins sat in the same area so that Nisha and Luke could sit next to each other. I sat on Nisha’s other side. My sister and her boyfriend held hands, smiling at each other as they sang songs about someone’s grandmother getting dressed for war. Percy, who was next to me, did his best to follow along. We ate too many s’mores, and laughed, and joked around.

And as much as I missed my hometown, I looked around at the campers- my family- and knew that I was home.

If I had known what would happen next, I would have enjoyed it more.

#rise up #zia banerjee #teen wolf #teen wolf oc #pjo #pjo ocs

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amarauder · 5 years ago

Text

Stargirl, Rocketman, and the Greater Dog - Sirius Black x Reader

002. star girl, rocketman, and the greater dog

PAIRING; Neil Armstrong's Daughter! Muggle! Reader x Sirius Black

HOUSE; N/A

YEAR; After Hogwarts

DATE; April 20th, 2020.

WORD COUNT; 6183

WARNING; Drinking! Horrible, horrible characterization of Sirius, kissing, a bad word or two, horrible writing and plot, not edited, etc.

A/N; 1. So, I did some research on the Apollo moon landing which was July 20th, 1969. Unfortunately, that would mean that Sirius was around 10 years old when that happened and of course I can't have that so the gang is 18-19 age range, along with reader.

2. Yes, you are the daughter of Neil Armstrong. However, it is not really mentioned at all, just once or twice. Your last name will still be L/N. Your Father is really just a muggle astronaut, that's all I have to say.

please let me know anything I can do to make it more realistic for you.

TRAILER; in which a boy named after a constellation falls for a girl who's dad walked on the moon.

ART CREDS; upthehillart at tumblr.

The pub had been a bit too dark for her taste, but the freezing gust of wind outside just picked up pushing her to scurry inside. Walking up to what she assumed was the hostess stand, but seeing no one there, she looked around. All the TV sets were playing replays of previous soccer games, which almost made her laugh out loud. Considering the NFL playoffs were rapidly approaching, she knew that every television in her country was playing American football.

Another gust of wind from someone entering the bar made her shiver. Forcing herself not to look, something she knew was awkward from experience, she drummed her fingers on the counter becoming a bit impatient from the lack of service. However, just as she was about to call over a waitress who was staring at her bit oddly, she couldn't help but overhear the group of people behind her.

"-But Lily wanted a muggle wedding, Padfoot. So, will you-"

"You know weddings are so not my forté, Prongs. You are lucky I love Lily so much."

"Since when did you know such a big word like forté, Padfoot?"

They finally walked into her peripheral view, "But think about all the bridesmaids!," the one with the glasses said and clapped the longer haired one's shoulder, "We all know that Petunia chick sure is nifty."

"Merlin, Prongs, no matter how many times I tell you to let go of your Mother's strange lingo..." The words died out as Y/N realized they had walked right past her. She noticed another couple do the same before letting the embarrassment wash over. The hostess stand was not in fact a hostess stand. In fact, did pubs even have hostess stands?

She sighed before walking over to the bar. Later on, Y/N knew she would be revisiting that moment right as she was about to fall asleep and then cringe in embarrassment. But, fortunately enough, being in a foreign country left plenty of room for embarrassing moments.

She sat two seats down from the couple who came in right after the men with strange nicknames and ordered a drink that she hoped looked normal enough. The one thing that made the lack of knowledge of a different country was the legal drinking age. In her home country she could drink at 21, but in Britain she could have as much alcohol as she wanted at age 18. Something she felt made a lot more sense and liked a lot more.

However, she had a feeling her choice of drink (that was in fact giving away her lack of knowledge on drinking) was not the main reasoning behind judgmental eyes. Her clothing choice was hopefully what they were staring at. The bartender even gave her a look up and down before shaking his head and muttering something that sounded like, 'stupid Americans'.

Y/N's Father had been invited by leaders all over the world to success. The ceremony was held in the stupid Buckingham Palace and her Father was to be congratulated by the Queen herself. Y/N had been dragged along despite her resistance and last minute had ditched. Now, she was in a grubby pub for the first time in her life in a gown and fat dried mascara tracks fit for the royal palace, itself.

Fortunately, the bartender left giving her much needed space. She chose to look around during the extra time and hopefully distract herself from anything moon related. But once she made eye contact with the long haired man with the dumb nickname and a even dumber leather jacket, who looked way too chipper and eager to talk about her dress, she gave up. Instead, she shuffled through her bag looking for a pen and her notebook.

Finally finding them, she smiled in satisfaction before Bella decided to ruin the moment by barging in the bar. The girl who she had known for about ten days, was way too chipper and nosy for her taste. Bella had been assigned to her by some government official to help show her around, but had instead used Y/N's last name to her advantage. Throwing it around like confetti, Bella had tried and tried to get guys left and right but to no avail. It was actually kind of entertaining.

"Y/N," the girl rushed towards her, tumble of curls going wild, "What are you doing here? Your Mother is furious and your Father is well, we need not to talk about that."

Y/N didn't even look up from her notebook and instead continued to finish trying to find the next blank page, "Well, that is such a pity. Tell Mother-"

Bella abruptly shut the book on her fingers causing Y/N to flinch and hiss at the girl in betrayal. "Listen, I know your knickers are all in a twist because Mr.Armstrong missed your graduation but he really wants you there." Narrowing her eyes and ignoring the pang in her chest from the stupid girl's words, Y/N calmed herself down and tried to think rationally. The girl never cared about her well being, so how did she of all people know about her Father's antics.

Throughout Y/N's entire life, her Dad had continuously proved to her family that work was his most important priority. He hadn't just missed her High School graduation, but he had missed all her graduations, all her sports games, all her recitals, anything that was important to Y/N. No matter how hard she tried to prove herself to him, he never ever showed up or if he did, he left five minutes in. It was a constant battle, as her therapist had said, but now Y/N was supposed to show up to her Dad's important event. Interesting how the tables finally turned.

Y/N only snorted and patted Bella's hand in what she hoped looked like a convincing manner, "Congratulations! You are the first person who I have ever heard say, 'Knickers in a Twist'."

"Y/N! You have to be serious about this! It's important for your Father's career, and not only that but a memorable experience for the both of you."

"Really?" Y/N remarked sarcastically, "Well, you know what is another memorable experience? Your daughter's High School graduation, but he had no problem missing that."

Bella sighed and opened her mouth to speak before she was interrupted by one of the weird nicknamed men, "Excuse me," and Y/N noticed that the rest of them were behind him, not that she was surprised, "Hello, um. You don't happen to be Arabella Figg, do you?"

"Guilty!" the girl laughed daintily and Y/N couldn't help but roll her eyes. Remarkably, considering the lack of time Y/N had spent with the girl, Y/N had spent way too much time deciphering between Bella's multitude of personalities that all happened to change whenever a boy was within a five foot radius.

The boys, whom she never actually got introduced too, had even weirder names than their nicknames. Except for James and Peter of course, but they made it up through their nickname she supposed.

After a while, Y/N realized that, thankfully, she was not going to be brought into the conversation and instead continued what she had been doing before she was rudely interrupted, only to be interrupted again by an annoying but very Bella topic: her Father.

"Her father is Neil Armstrong," Bella said and gestured to Y/N who was rolling her eyes.

"Who?" Raising an eyebrow at his question, she ignored the man's probing eyes and continued on with her notebook. But she couldn't get his question out of her mind. It seemed 'Sirius', whose name she caught on from Bella, was full of surprises. She hadn't met someone who didn't either still at her Father's name or even worse ask her a bunch of probing questions.

"No one," Y/N grumbled moodily but not before giving him a calculating once over which somehow only seemed to give the boy more confidence.

"The first man to walk on the moon!" Bella put in helpfully.

"I just.." Y/N paused her speech when she noticed Remus stiffen at the mention of the word 'moon' and the rest of the posse exchange glances, her stink eye only intensified. "I just don't see why this is such a big deal. The Soviet Union already landed on the moon. This whole thing is completely unnecessary."

"Ya, but it really isn't a moon landing if America hasn't done it, is it?" Y/N was shocked that for one, that the pretty boy named Sirius even knew something (God, she really needed to stop judging.) and for two, that he had blatantly called out her home country like that.

She liked him.

Giving him another once over, she quietly laughed. Y/N didn't quite know what to make of him or his antics, "I suppose. It depends on how you see it."

Sirius leaned forward, "Well, how do you see it, love?"

Y/N also leaned forward, a challenging look in her eye, "None of your business, love."

The next few days passed by in a blur. Her family had tried to fit in as much sight seeing as they could in the past week. Y/N had instead been forced to stay in the tiny apartment as a grounding for not coming to her Father's ceremonial service. It had been absolute torture, her family would come back after experiencing something amazing with loads of pictures and stories that Y/N couldn't handle, especially when they decided to bring Bella with them to Big Ben that night.

After having just finished her dinner at a cute little cafe, Y/N set out to go get some much needed alcohol. It had been a stressful but very uneventful trip and she couldn't stand to go back to the tiny hotel room. You can only watch so many seasons of the Brady Bunch before it becomes annoying.

Thanking the waitress after getting her card back, she left the restaurant and braved the harsh weather. London at night was a force to be reckoned with. The sights were absolutely gorgeous, but the streets were absolutely dangerous. As a tourist with limited knowledge about where she was going, Y/N set off for the stupid pub that she went to last week.

The second she walked in there, she made a beeline to the bar. It was surprisingly busy that night and as she looked around in surprise there were no open seats. Wrinkling her nose, she stepped forward and ordered her drink anyway.

Maybe once she came back from the bathroom then there would be an open seat?

Biting her lip but deciding against going back, she got in line behind some man with annoying nice hair. Glaring at the back of the head of the guy with annoyingly nice hair, she sighed and let her head fall against the wall. Instantly regretting it and feeling her head start to pound, she cursed under her breath and rubbed the side of her head.

Why was she so clumsy?

"Real smooth," someone said in front of her. Looking up, she noticed it was one of the weird nicknamed dudes with an either weirder name.

Y/N rolled her eyes and smiled at him sarcastically, hoping to hide her embarrassment, "Thanks, you're a real helper."

"I try my best," he said before sticking his hand out in front of her, "Sirius Black. I remember you from the other night. The daughter of the original rocketman?"

Y/N snorted, "Nice Elton John reference. Ya, and you're the guy with the names related to dogs."

"Impressive. I don't always come across a pretty girl who also knows her stuff, like you."

Taking a step backwards in order to regain her thoughts back for a second, she crossed her arms, "It helps being the daughter of the original Rocketman.

He smirked, "Very funny."

"What? Your music choice or pathetic nicknames, dog face?"

"Touchè. I prefer music but whatever floats your boat."

Pretending not to be amused, she rolled her eyes and pursed her lips, "Really, whatever floats your boat?"

"Well, what else did you expect?"

"I don't know," Y/N said, taking in a long sigh and knocking on the wooden wall next to her absentmindedly. Ever since leaving the bar, the man in front of her had been all she could think about. She found herself overanalyzing everything that had happened that night: from Remus walking up to Bella to when Sirius shocked her. She liked a man who could discuss contradicting topics but also defend his own opinion while also acknowledging her own point. It didn't help that he was gorgeous either. "Maybe an explanation or two. I just can't quite figure out why you and your posse all looked at Remus when I mentioned that my Dad was the first to walk on the moon."

"First of all, my friends and I are not a posse, we are the Marauders-"

"Marauders?"

"Our group name," Sirius said as if it was well known information.

Little snorts turning into full-blown laughter, Y/N felt her sides start to ache and her eyes tear up as she laughed. Why on earth would a group of full grown men name their own group?

Sirius only pouted, muttering something that sounded like, 'It's not funny.'

Only giggling more, she patted his shoulder and passed him to use the restroom and said , "Thanks for letting me cut you," before shutting the door.

Finishing using the restroom, she exited it and winked at Sirius before walking over to the bar. Fighting the urge to make sure he was following her, she hopped up on her stool and smiled at the lady next to her who was giving her a glare. She was probably hoping some guy was going to come and sweep her off her feet. Too bad she was an old woman in the middle of a bunch of barely legal adults.

She was about to order another drink, the lady had taken hers, when she felt him. His hand was brushing against her shirt as his hand rested on the back of the stool, "One fire whiskey for me, and one whatever the lady wants."

"I'll just have whatever he is having, please." Y/N smiled at the bartender politely before turning to Sirius.

"What the hell is fire whiskey?"

Blinking at her owlishly for a few seconds, before looking like he had just done something horrible, he rubbed his lips together as if he was a woman putting on lipstick. "It's a kind of whiskey. You'll love it, trust me. Do they not have it in America?"

Y/N shrugged, "I wouldn't know. I don't drink too often, and at my age it would be illegal to drink there."

"That sucks."

"Ya, I know." Good thing she wouldn't have to deal with that anymore, "Anyways, Remus and the moon?"

"Oh, ya. As I was saying, before I was rudely interrupted by your laughing," Sirius said with a smirk and pinching her sides making Y/N shriek and wiggle away from him, "I think it's pretty self-explanatory, sweetheart. I mean it's pretty far out that your Dad is literally rocket man. I guess we just all happened to look at Remus, he is the most understanding out of all of us."

Looking at him unimpressed, she rolled her eyes and reached for the drink that was just put in front of her before taking a sip. It burned down her throat and Y/N coughed hackedly.

Sirius chuckled and took the drink out of her hands, "It's not for the faint hearted."

Y/N rolled her eyes and pouted, "I don't believe you."

"What? That you're faint hearted, cause sweetheart, I hate to break it to y-"

"You know what I mean, puppy dog," Y/N interrupted with a sigh.

"Puppy dog? That's a new one. How much of this did you drink, love?"

"Stop changing the subject."

"Fine, you want to hear Reemy's deepest darkest biggest secret of all time?" Y/N nodded earnestly and fought the urge to laugh when Sirius got closer to whisper it to her, "Well, the truth is that Remus is a-"

A cleared throat. Some snickering. An annoyed sigh from Y/N. A sudden feeling of cold.

"Padfoot, who's this?" Y/N turned around and was faced with the other three nicknamed boys. James, the one who had interrupted them, put his hand out in greeting, "You're the girl from earlier, aren't you?"

Y/N nodded, "Nice to officially meet you. I'm Y/N."

"Nice to meet you, James Potter."

The others introduced themselves after that and the drunk-like feeling slowly went away. The problem was whenever Sirius leaned over to whisper something in her ear, it returned. Just like that, she was back on square one, uncontrollable giddiness, dizziness, and ridiculousness.

"So, Y/N what brings you to our little corner in London?"

Y/N smiled, "Well, originally, I was here for my Father's congratulatory ceremony. But, last week, just after I met you all actually, I got an acceptance letter at Oxford. (I wonder if any of you guys can guess why I chose this college out of all of British colleges. Hint: Hogwarts.) I wanted to tour it once more before I accept and start Uni next fall."

James raised his eyebrows but smiled, while him and the other two congratulated her nonetheless. Out of the corner of her eye, she tried to register Sirius' expression but all she got was an annoyed glance towards James, who had elbowed Sirius after her explanation. It was enough to lighten her spirits.

"What about you? Are you guys regulars here?" She asked, trying hard not to seem too obvious.

Sirius shook his head and placed an arm over her shoulder, "Nah," he said while her body stiffened but warmed from the contact. She felt her entire face and neck grow hot but tried to hide her embarrassment by scooting closer to Sirius. "Jamie here is a whipped boy. His fiance wanted a specific type of wedding but is unable to make the wedding planning. So she forced all of us men to come and keep Prongs in check, while he basically repeats everything she wants."

Y/N was barely able to understand what he had been saying, he had leaned in close and his breath was hot on her neck as he talked, but she had been able to get out a dizzying smile and congratulate him. It seemed her mind went to mush whenever Sirius was involved because since he put his arm around her, she had not been able to pay attention to what the others had been talking about.

"I'm sorry, what?" Y/N asked after she had noticed everyone staring at her.

Sirius laughed quietly, "Prongs was just wondering if you would want to come over sometime and meet his fiance?"

Sirius had arrived early, which any other time would have been fine, except for the fact that Y/N's parents were late in leaving for dinner with some friends they had made in London.

Her Mother fortunately, was still setting her hair and called for someone else to get the door once the bell rang. "I'll get it!" Y/N hollered and darted to the door, praying to God and any other godly figure she could think of to not let any of her nosy family come into the living room.

Sirius stood at the door with a lazy smirk on his face, that any other time Y/N would have loved but she was in fight or flight mode and that was never good.

Y/N wasn't even ready yet, she had wanted to wait until her parents had left the house to get ready. But plans had changed and now Y/N was still in a tee-shirt and sweatpants. Sirius looked amused.

"Well, aren't we looking dazzling this afternoon."

"Shut up, Sirius," Y/N hissed, pushing him further into the hallway, "My parents are still here."

At this, Sirius perked up. For eagerness to run for the hills or stay and meet the devils themselves, Y/N didn't know.

"Do you not want me to meet them?" He asked and Y/N sighed. She didn't know what she really wanted. Hell, she had just met the guy. Ya, she hadn't been able to stop thinking about him and he had managed to consume her daily thoughts. Now, he had invited her to meet more important people in his life and spend more time with her. Sure, it was a bit fast, especially since they haven't even been on a date yet.

But meeting the parents? That was due after dating for a while! Even with her limited experience she knew that!

He was an odd sort too, something Y/N didn't know she trusted but was always attracted too.

The man in front of her looked at her patiently, a hint of a smirk still ghosting on his features. He tilted his head slightly and Y/N gulped, "Well, would you want to?"

Sirius raised his eyebrows, and Y/N mentally gave herself a high-five. She had managed to catch him off guard, more time for her to ponder whether he should meet her parents or not-especially now.

But before she could make her decision, Sirius shrugged, "Well, why not? I would love to meet Rocketman." Y/N froze for a few seconds and he hastily tried to fix his mess, "Only if you want me too, of course. I don't mean to seem to forward or anything but, I don't mind, is what I am saying. I have been trained to meet adults my entire life-"

Before he could continue rambling, Y/N started to laugh, "Trained to meet adults your entire life? What did your parents give you lessons on how to properly introduce yourself? Oh my God, were you one of those spoilt brats who were forced into lessons on manners and ballroom dancing and all that ridiculous shit?"

"I don't think Mother," he said in a posh voice, "would have liked hearing her 'well-spent' money being called all that ridiculous shit."

"Well, it's a good thing, I'm not trying to impress her then. Isn't it?" Y/N said and leaned forward.

Sirius smiled, and God, it was blinding. The more she stared at him, the more her stomach flipped and flopped and the more addicting, dizzying feeling increased. Her placed his forearms on her shoulders, and her skin tingled, "Yes, it is a very good thing. Now, why don't you get dressed and we can head to James house late, ya?"

Y/N sighed and shifted her weight under Sirius, "Fine, but I wanna show you something first. Stay here, I'll come get you once I change."

Sirius saluted her and stalked over to the window, while Y/N closed the door. Her Mother asked who it was but Y/N merely said a stranger, a man who was lost.

But Sirius was not a stranger anymore, nor a man who was lost, and the permanent smile etched onto her face by a painter who goes by the name of a dog said so.

By the time Y/N got changed and scurried around the little place, it was dark outside and the night was cold. She had a bottle of Sherry in her hand, the only thing she could find in their rented space and a fistful of Sirius's leather jacket in the other.

Her parents had luckily left just before Y/N had finished getting ready, she had hid in the bathroom in order to not be seen and questioned about her appearance.

Y/N assumed they had seen, and hopefully not met, Sirius on their way out. But Sirius didn't mention anything, so neither did she.

"What's in there?" Sirius asked, peeking into the bag Y/N grabbed with her. Swatting his nosy self away, Y/N brought the bag closer to her chest in order to protect it. He wasn't getting near it anytime soon, or until they arrived at the secret destination in a few minutes.

"None of your business."

"Well, I don't know about you. But considering I am here with you, possibly in danger-"

"In danger?" Y/N cried indignantly with a laugh, "Of what? Messing up your hair?"

Sirius grinned, "Precisely."

"I don't think I have ever heard a boy say 'Precisely', Mr.Manners."

"Well, us Brits have to use our accent to our advantage. How else would we wind up with pretty American girls like you?" Rolling her eyes, she shoved Sirius to the wall next to her and opened a window. The window itself was old, which was odd considering the building looked to be rather new. The outlining was painted red, but seemed to be chipping off and the glass itself was blurry as if someone had used the wrong cleaning product on it one too many times.

But Y/N grinned as if she was telling Sirius her deepest, most kept secret and it was drawing Sirius in like a moth to light.

She opened the window and climbed through without a word. It was only a few seconds later she realized Sirius hadn't moved and she stuck her head out again to beckon him in.

As Sirius climbed through, he felt like a different person. Almost as if someone had switched out his brain for someone else's, like Regulus', but he kept the same body. He felt as if he was a puppet moving on strings, only the puppeteer was learning how to control him. He stumbled through the window, and it was an odd feeling for Sirius.

Sirius had climbed through windows drunk before, snuck around a school filled with Patrollers who performed magic on a daily basis, executed pranks on the greatest witches and wizards of their time, but here he was stumbling around like a deer first learning how to walk.

Y/N turned around with another blinding grin, as if to check he was still following her and he almost fell. She laughed lightly and held her hand out to him. Sirius didn't know whether to be embarrassed or delighted.

They finally got to Y/N's little secret spot and Sirius finally noticed that they were outside. The air was chilly around them, just enough that Sirius could use the weather to his advantage. It was dark outside, so dark that Y/N's pretty features all seemed to meld into a nameless face. But the scenery was pretty and Sirius' nerves were buzzing with activity, all the warmth seemingly to be an extension of Y/N.

"Can you believe I just found this place?" Y/N asked, nearly breathless from next to Sirius. Their hands were still connected but Sirius decided not to mention it.

Sirius laughed, his mind finally starting to rebuild itself from the shock of Y/N's touch, "Well, you did just arrive here." She laughed and shoved him, and it was then that Sirius really felt how cold it was outside. She turned away from him and Sirius pouted, if she was really going to play this game then Sirius was going to have to give in.

But she wasn't playing the 'you didn't really hurt my feelings but I am going to pout anyway because I want attention' game and instead she turned around with a devilish smile and two of Sirius' favorite things.

Food and Cigarettes.

She was an angel trying to become a devil. He was screwed.

But Sirius only laughed quietly at her, and this time she pouted, "What, you big meanie."

"Nothing," he paused and waited to see if what he said next was worth it. It was. "It's just you don't drink too much, do you?"

Y/N nodded then scrutinized him as if trying to figure out what he was getting at, "Ya, so..."

"It's amusing to me how you don't drink but you smoke. Usually, if someone is dipping their toe in their rebellious stage then they start with alcohol first."

She rolled her eyes so hard he thought she might hurt herself, "Sirius, that may have been what you did but I started probably before you even knew what a cigarette was."

Sirius raised his eyebrows at her comment but said nothing. He could prove her wrong, but what if he was wrong? The chances of him winning and failing were 50/50 and if it were any other girl, then he would have taken them.

But he knew about three things about Y/N and they were all general: One, She liked Elton John (But who didn't?). Two, she was going to college next fall and wanted to go to some muggle school here, which only excited Sirius more. Three, she was from America. Oh yes, and her family was a bunch of humbugs who liked to go to the moon.

It was four things in total, but that did nothing to help Sirius nerves.

Instead Sirius leaned down on the roof of her rental, and looked at the heavens above him. She lit up a cigarette from next to him. It struck him then, in the glow from the lighter Y/N was very much alike and different from all the other girls he dated.

A girl with probable Daddy issues and a need for exhilaration, but she was intelligent and was going places. Besides, all the girls he dated, he knew of. He had lived in the same castle as them for seven years, Y/N grew up in an entirely different country and lived a life without magic.

She was new, and comfortable, and different, and forbidden in some shape or form.

His parents would have hated her, the ministry still held more than enough laws against what Sirius was doing.

It only brought him in more.

But then she laid down next to him, with a blinding smile and a glow to her face. Smoke floated around her like a halo, and Sirius wondered again if she was more devilish or angelic.

She took another hit before passing it to Sirius, he took it in his fingers and debated smoking or not. Her lips had been around it and he really wanted the first time for their lips to 'touch' to be a kiss, not a cigarette butt.

"Well," she said looking at him expectantly, "I thought you said you've smoked before."

"I have," he said and shot her a look.

"Then, what's stopping you?"

Sirius sighed but took a deep breath of the drug, then he blew it all in her face. She coughed and sputtered while Sirius laughed. She pushed him again, but he only brought her closer and looked up at the stars again.

The cigarette was a good distraction and he took in as much as he could, before she snatched it back from him with a huff.

Then the silence took over, and the stars shone brighter, and the warmth of Y/N lulled his buzzing skin to sleep, and the passing of the drug became a mindless routine. Sirius felt a serene sense of calm wash over him.

A light laugh. His head fell to the side. His name was called once. Sirius opened an eye. Burning stars fell from the heavens. He closed his eye again. His nerves buzzed, right near his heart. He opened his eyes. A burning star fell on him.

"Good morning," Y/N whispered as she looked up from him on his chest.

Sirius looked up, it still looked like night to him. He needed to wake up. "How is it," he paused and cleared his throat, "How is it morning?"

Y/N smiled and it was suddenly to bright for him. He wanted to shut his eyes again. "Well, it is only one in the morning."

Sirius groaned, "Bloody hell. James is gonna kill me." It was a lie. James wouldn't kill him, James would laugh and tease him about who kept him so busy and distracted. Lily would be the one to kill him.

Y/N ignored him and played with the cuffs of his jacket. It was quiet for a while as Sirius woke up. He should feel bad for falling asleep on his date, but he couldn't bring himself too.

"Hey, Sirius?" Sirius hummed in response, "Why are you named after a star?"

"It's a tradition in our family to be named after constellations and other balls of fire in the sky." Because that's what stars were, glorified balls of fire.

Y/N smiled at him, and for the first time her smile wasn't so disarming. It was a soft, barely there, closed lip thing but it made Sirius' heart flutter. "That's neat."

"Never really thought of it as neat, but I guess that's a way to think of it."

"Well, what did you think of it then?"

Sirius opened his mouth, then closed it. What did he think of his name? "I guess... I never actually thought about it. James, the idiot, thought of my nickname when we were all fifteen. It all sort of stuck after that."

"Because of the constellation, right? Because Sirius is a star in the constellation Canis Major, the Greater Dog."

"Umm, ya," Sirius said, glad that's what she thought instead of the truth.

"Did you know that Sirius is the brightest star visible from any part of Earth?" She whispered and Sirius' heart whispered back, "You stupid, stupid, falling star."

"Nope," Sirius said with a grin and squeezed her, "But I do now." He made the mistake of looking down at that moment. She was giving him that grin again, the grin that would forever be on the edge of a smile and a smirk, the edge of an angel and a devil.

Her hand reached up to his jaw, and she became a star girl, shinning bright above him. Her blinding light beaconed him closer and closer, until it consumed him whole.

a/n; i really don't know what this is and the whole star girl thing and angel and devil thing. but I don't know. it's just something i came up with along the way. and i know sirius is so out of character, but i like to think that Sirius is different with a girl he really likes. like completely overtaken by her and super mushy gushy type romance, but doesn't like to show it? i dunno. I'm working on trying to better my writing and I noticed that a lot of it is tell not show, so i tried my best to make it the opposite but I dunno. I would love to hear your thoughts!

Also, this is not just a marauders one shot book like it was previously! I know I have only been writing for marauders only, but it's a hp book! but requests are still closed! i want to get through all of my own ideas before i open up requests again! :)

Hope you all are having a wonderful day!

#sirius black x reader #Harry Potter #anmarauder writings

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1ooo-w0rds · 5 years ago

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Bring him back

A/N: Fueled by what a shitty ending Reyna got in TOA, I got inspiration to get another part of my Apollo somehow revives Jason AU. @chasehermes @dancerdramatic14 @astronai

PART 1 | PART 2

The tip of Apollo's sword buried into Caligula's stomach, slowly pushing in as he leaned against it. Caligula's armless form sagged forward, his head close to Apollo's. "Using demigods to do your dirty work. How godly of you." Caligula murmured into Apollo's ear. Apollo twisted the sword, digging its tip deeper. The dying man coughed, flecking blood on Apollo's cheek.

"Stay dead this time." Apollo grunted, pulling the sword out. Caligula fell. The light dimmed from his dark cruel eyes. Apollo sighed in relief. Frank stood as a large wolf with Caligula’s bloody arm in his mouth. He dropped it and trotted over to Reyna. She slowly stood up, clothes ripped and bloody. A smile tugged at her lips as she placed a hand on Frank’s furry head. The boy somehow made a wolfish smile look innocent as he nuzzled against her hand.

“So,” Apollo started as he limped towards the two. His sword scraped against the floor. “Who’s gonna clean up this mess…” The world shifted, twisted and turned before Apollo’s eyes. The dark throne room warped into a well-lit space with tall marble columns of ancient influence. His fingers dug into the hilt of his sword. He recognized this hall.

“My, my, my. Didn’t expect to see you so soon.” A syrupy voice greeted as they stepped out from behind a pillar. Aphrodite ran her finger tips against the cool stone. Today, she chose blonde with beach wave curls framing her beautiful face. A Greek inspired toga draped across her form like a memory of a time before.

Other gods and goddesses materialized into the Hall of the Gods. Ares kicked in, huffing in his leather jacket and dark sunglasses. Artemis strolled in with branches in her hair. Hades appeared silently, uninterested as he settled in a seat. Curious gazes took in Apollo’s mortal form along with his demigod companions. His skin crawled from their burning looks but Apollo stepped forward to the god who took his power. Zeus adjusted the cuff of his suit jacket before looking up at the sound of Apollo’s sword against the marble.

“You’re leaving a mark.” He said.

As I should. Apollo thought angrily but didn’t voice. These trails taught him over and over again how weak his mortal body is. But now standing in front of Zeus, it was clear. The god radiated power, unaffected by the events in the mortal world.

We’re pieces on a board. Moved by your invisible hands. Reyna’s voice echoed in Apollo’s mind, recalling when they first met, speaking in the Principa. She stood in the dimly lit room as a visible smoke trail cut across the blue sky behind her. She cradled a knight between her finger trips, rotating the piece sadly. You gods are unfazed when we fall. No reaction when we don’t get up. She set the piece down on its side.

What did I say to you then, Reyna? Apollo pondered as he met Zeus’ gaze. “Give me what I’m due.” He demanded, forcing the quiver out of his voice.

“One wish.” Zeus answered, gaze narrowing. Apollo clenched his teeth. Zeus is going to make him beg, ask gratefully for his prize. Make me a god. Give me my power back. Make me strong. Make me whole again. Apollo took a breath, about to say those words, but hesitated. The air tasted sweet in his mortal lungs. His heart thumped rapidly against his ribs. His body battered and bruised from his trials. He’s alive. Not trapped in this endless cycle of immortality. What do I want? He thought, looking to his ragtag group.

Frank transformed back, now leaning heavily against Reyna. Maintaining a form for so long as sapped him of his strength. Blood coated his mouth but he was too tired to wipe it clean. His eyes closed, uncaring of the where they were. Reyna, on the other hand, clenched her dagger tightly. Her body tense as she scanned the room, looking for something to jump out and attack. Her fingers dug into Frank’s side, prepared to drag her taller friend out of here if she needed. She sensed his gaze and looked up. Apollo expected judgement, resentment and anger in her dark eyes but they softened with sadness and understanding.

Reyna is your crux, Apollo. Aphrodite’s warning rang in his ears. She will strip you of your powers. Those words once struck fear in his body, shaking him to his core. Her name hung over his head like a guillotine threatening to chop it off. But after enduring so many trials with her and Frank, the threat fell short. Maybe she is my weakness. But I’m giving them up on my terms.

Apollo smiled at her before turning back to Zeus. Cold judgemental blue eyes stared down at Apollo, waiting. Blue eyes Jason once had. But they were warm on that boy who would do anything for his friends.

“Bring him back.” Apollo whispered at first, reaching for those words. Zeus’ eyes crinkled in confusion which fueled Apollo’s anger. Was Jason just a footnote in this being’s long life? “Bring Jason Grace back.” He shouted. The words rippled through the room. A bewildering silence fell over the gods before rapid whispers followed.

"Is Apollo giving up his powers?"

"Can he return?"

"Well this got interesting."

“I know you can.” Apollo added, pushing himself up with his sword to stand straight. Zeus tucked his hands into his pocket, pursing his lips.

“You’re giving up your chance to return, Apollo. You will stay a mortal to bring back a boy.” Apollo’s rage flared at the coldness of Zeus’ words. His fingers clenched at his sword. Oh how he wanted to swing it at Zeus’ head, god or not. His arms sat unmoved by his sides. Apollo is exhausted, drained from the fight. He’s astonished his mortal body hasn’t collapsed yet.

“He’s your son, Zeus.” The words started soft before gaining volume. “And he shouldn’t be dead. A hero in one prophecy, a sacrifice in another? Are we so cruel? I don’t want to be a god if this is how we treat our heroes, no, our children.” Apollo looked at Reyna and Frank. They stared back in surprise, holding each other with bated breath. He smiled. Apollo won’t mind spending one good life with them. “I’ve lived long enough. So many lifetimes, it’s meaningless. Give us Jason back. Return him home. That’s my wish.”

#jeyna #apollo revives jason grace au #mine #writing #God i love my version of these characters

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justforbooks · 5 years ago

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Ten reasons why we love Donna Tartt's The Secret History

It starts with a murder, is obsessed with ancient Greece and creates the delicious illusion of being admitted to the most dangerous of confidences

1. It starts with a murder. The novelist's first trick is also her best: in a prologue, her narrator, Richard Pappin, tells us of the murder of Bunny, a crime "for which I was partly responsible". He appears to have got away with it – and yet to be haunted by it. "This is the only story I will ever be able to tell." We will have to read on to find out how he could have done such a thing. Coleridge said that Shakespeare always made apprehension predominate over surprise, and this is what Donna Tartt does. As we read The Secret History, we don't so much wonder what might happen as worry about what will happen.

2. It is in love with Ancient Greece. Donna Tartt proves the truth of what literary parents piously tell their children: nothing can beat the Greek myths. The main characters believe so strongly in the power of these myths that they find themselves enacting one of them. But the novel, through its narrator, is also in love with Greek philosophy and history, with Homer and Plato. At the (fictional) university of Hampden it admits us to Julian Morrow's select class of Hellenophiles and allows us to commune with the most alluring civilisation of all.

3. It has all the best elements of the campus novel. The college where the novel is set is just the picture: white clapboard and green shutters, a clock tower and ivied brick, the autumn glow of Vermont. Everyone who has ever been to university loves this peculiar subgenre, in which we can relive our earliest years of pretend adulthood. But it appeals to non-graduate readers too. Gilded youth is set free to experiment and be absurd; high pretensions co-exist with human weakness. Usually this mixture is comic, but Tartt is clever enough to see its darker potential.

4. It has a classic lonely narrator. Richard Pappin is perfectly prepared to be entranced. Friendless and frustrated, without family support or sympathy, he arrives at university to look for a better life – especially of the spirit. A clever boy from nowheresville, he sets out to "fabricate a new and far more satisfying history". At Hampden he is intoxicated to find himself in the company of the five eccentric, conceited, clever undergraduates who study Greek together and seal themselves off from the rest of the students. He does not so much befriend them as project his hopes and fantasies upon them. So he narrates with the force of passion.

5. It is full of quotations. Within a couple of sentences Richard is quoting from Rimbaud (unattributed and untranslated). The book is liberally scattered with wise sayings in Latin and Greek – genuine fragments of antiquity that are as often mysterious as they are sagacious. You are leaving the sublunary world behind and entering a realm of literary and linguistic riches. Outside the novel's pages people are watching TV and talking in cliches, but within them you are in the company of the best that has been said and thought.

6. It has a charismatic master of ceremonies. At this university there is only one teacher of ancient Greek, Julian, who accepts only a small number of intellectually qualified students. Sardonic, brilliant and charismatic, he presides like some academic magus over the aspirations of the characters. "I hope we're all ready to leave the phenomenal world, and enter into the sublime?" he asks rhetorically, at the beginning of one of his highly unconventional classes. Richard and his companions are devotees of a cult, and Julian is the secular priest, endlessly witty, incisive and mocking.

7. It is obsessed with beauty. Tartt's narrator seems little interested in sex, but is readily intoxicated by beauty: human, natural, or poetic. The novel notices how important beauty is to us, yet how rarely anyone speaks of it. "Khalepa ta kala. Beauty is harsh." (In the ancient Greek, the words for "beauty" and "harsh" chime with each other.) This is "about the first sentence that I ever learned in Greek" and becomes a dictum for Richard. He comes to relish "beauty that shocks you", as Alexander Pope put it – beauty jolts us out of our boredom.

8. It believes in fate. As he looks back on his life, Richard notices all the apparently chance events that led him into the story that he is now telling. Everything is an accident (he applies to Hampden because an old brochure for it falls out of a jacket pocket), and yet telling the story makes it appear destined. "Psychology is only another word for what the ancients called fate," declares Julian. The narrative is shaped by this ancient conviction.

9. It is possessed by Dionysos. Friedrich Nietzsche knew that Greek tragedy was made out of the clash between the powers of reason-giving Apollo and enrapturing Dionysos. Richard learns from his companions and his teacher that the roots of wisdom are not just in Greek rationality but also pagan ecstasy. DH Lawrence would have appreciated what Tartt has learned from the god of wine and ritual madness. Get out there in the woods and rip your clothes off! Richard and his clever, foolish fellow students are would-be bacchantes who learn all about the dangers of this allegiance.

10. It lets you in on secrets. Tartt's title is a cracker, not least because it is true to the appeal of the book. We, like Richard, are being given membership of a select group. One secret is given away at the book's opening, only because we can be assured that others lie in store. Every one of the millions who have read The Secret History has the delicious illusion of being admitted to the most dangerous of confidences. It is as if her every reader is the first and only one to read it.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at http://justforbooks.tumblr.com

#JUST FOR BOOKS #Donna Tartt #The Secret History

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brittysaucefanfic · 5 years ago

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A Fate Unclaimed

Part 22

(First)(Previous)(Next)(Last)(AU 1)(AU 2)(AO3)

Yoooo I just realized I didn't post the new update on this story on tumblr and I am very ashamed. On the bright side I actually updated something! When I go through to fix this tomorrow I'll add an under the cut and the links but I'm lazy and tired. Lmao I won't keep you guys any longer. Let's go!

******

Lance stirs as the sun begins to set, and Keith is the first to notice. They had set up camp, which pretty much meant they just walked until they found a small plateau and hunkered down in an overhang. Shiro and Keith are the only ones awake, whereas Pidge and Hunk had passed out as soon it was clear they were all safe for the time being. They huddle close to Lance, one of his hands in each of theirs.

Shiro stands on watch at the edge of the overhang, a good few feet away, a sword pierced into the ground, hands settled over the hilt. He looks like a sentry, and Keith actually wishes for once he had some sort of artistic talent so that he could draw Shiro. Sadly, all of his skills lay with battle. Lance’s head shifts to the side to look at Keith, eyes still closed, tear tracks stained on his dirt covered face.

His eyes open to reveal a brilliant blue.

Keith and Lance have a tenuous friendship at best, but with the nonstop action the past two days, they haven’t had a chance to figure out which side of the scale they tilt towards. Friends or enemies. Even then though, a crushing relief surges into Keith’s chest. He’s lost a lot already, he won’t lose Lance, friend or enemy, doesn’t matter.

“Welcome to the land of the living sleeping beauty,” is the first thing out of Keith’s mouth. It doesn’t come out smooth whatsoever, and he feels his ears burn at the blurted pet name. He has never said anything like that. Not once in his life. There’s a silence for a moment, then Lance smiles, something slow that makes Keith’s pulse race just a little.

“Perhaps I’m still asleep if you’re using pet names now Samurai.” Lance mutters, he goes to sit up, but stops mid way when he realizes his hands are trapped. A soft look crosses his face as he eases free his hands, careful not to wake the demigods clutching onto him in their sleep.

“Lance, you’re awake.” Shiro says, easing over to the two of them, his shoulders losing some of the tension they had been holding as he stood guard. Shiro moves to sit beside the bundle of demigods so that he may look out for dangers.

“So it seems,” Lance muses quietly, smile slipping into a disturbed frown. The change is confusing to Keith, why does Lance seem so troubled? “How long was I out?” There is nothing in the way he asks it that seems out of place, but Keith still frowns when he senses something off.

“Only a day, thanks to Apollo.” Shiro says, and Keith is reminded that the wait wasn’t as long as it had seemed. To Keith it seemed like days. He’s never been the best when it came to patience, one of the many things Shiro bemoans about him.

“Apollo to the rescue? Did he,” Lance pauses. “Say anything?” It’s Shiro’s turn to look troubled. Keith realizes with a jolt that it’s so easy to read Lance’s facial expressions because they look almost identical to Shiro’s. Not his face, just the faces he makes. Perhaps if he imagined everyone to make the same expressions as Shiro, it would help Keith in his ‘social awkwardness’ as Shiro calls it.

“Yeah, Pidge asked why you weren’t claimed,” Shiro starts. “He said something about you not being for the Gods to claim yet."

The look on Lance's face tightens considerably, darkening. The conversation seems to have woken up the two sleeping beauties. Hunk stirs first, sitting up and rubbing his eyes with a yawn. Before he even opens his eyes, the first thing he does is straighten his slightly crooked orange headband, tightening it, then he reaches over to Pidge and goes to wake her up.

What's interesting to Keith is the fact that he doesn't shake her shoulder like one would expect. Instead he reaches underneath her chin and lightly runs his nail back and forth on her chin like she's a cat. Pidge scrunches her nose, then like lightning, she snaps her teeth at Hunk's hand. He pulls away like he was expecting it. This all happens with neither of them opening their eyes, and Pidge sits up grumbling.

"That's still unnerving you know." Lance says casually.

"Hey if it works it works." Hunk mumbles, still rubbing his eyes with continuous yawns.

"Lance can you hand me my glasses?" Pidge says as she stretches her arms above her head. Lance silently hands her the pair of glasses that are too big for her small face. Pidge is midway between slipping on her glasses when both Pidge and Hunk freeze and tense. Their eyes snap open almost simultaneously, and just as simultaneously they both screech Lance's name. Again, nearly simultaneously, they lunge at Lance and take him to the ground in a pile of limbs. Lance's breath rushes from him in an audible huff.

"Lance!" They yell, then Pidge's voice takes over Hunk's briefly.

"We thought you were a goner!"

Hunk then takes over the screeching. "Don't scare us like that!"

Lance laughs breathily, patting both of their backs with a groan and a wince. As they lean back away from him Lance rubs his once injured shoulder. There are still a few prominent black veins around where the wound originated, the last vestiges of the poison in his veins. The hole itself has closed, though ungracefully, looking more like a knot in a tree than skin.

It doesn't bulge prominently, but it's obvious that the skin healed far faster than it should have, leaving being a small raised knot. The skin twists around almost in a full circle, and with the black veins still prominent it isn't the nicest sight to look at. Keith looks away from the wound to Lance's face, locking eyes with a piercing pair of blue eyes. Lance offers him a small, tight smile and they break eye contact like it never happened.

"Yeah, I don't exactly plan on doing anything like nearly dying again." Lance says, then his lips form a grin that Keith might imagine to be a leer. "At least not until I've had sex first."

"Ugh!" Pidge cries out in disgust, shoving Lance back onto the ground as he cracks up laughing like a maniac. "You're deplorable!"

"Ooh that's a big word Pidgey. Good job! Such a smart girl you are!" Lance mocks, baby voice and all. She picks up a small rock and aims it at his head. Lance dodges with hardly a blink of surprise. Her face slowly drops the playful glare, and turns somber.

"We were really scared Lance. I-" she cuts herself off with a shaky inhale. "I've already lost my brother, but there's still a chance to find Matt. You- you nearly died. There is no return from death." She stops, not saying anything more, but the tears welling up in her eyes say everything. Lance gathers her in his arms and strokes her head, Pidge clinging onto him. Hunk, not one to be left out of an emotional hug, gathers them both into his arms, thick fat tears rolling down his cheeks. He cries silently though, nothing to hear but sniffles.

There's a moment of silence as Keith watches the three of them.

Something wells up in his chest, making him look away with a lump in his throat. Shiro's hand settles on Keith's shoulder, and Keith doesn't have to look up to know that Shiro is smiling at him in that big brother kind of way that he does.

"Okay that's enough!" Pidge snaps, squirming out of the group hug and settling herself on the ground with huff. She straightens her glasses and wipes at her eyes. "So, now that Lance is better do we need to start moving on to whatever it is we were sent on this quest to do?"

Suddenly it's business?

"Actually," Hunk chimes, wiping at his own eyes but still sitting with an arm around Lance. Pidge scoots quietly closer, so that Lance's knees and hers touch but nothing more. Lance and Pidge both hide their hands behind the touching knees for some reason. Are they a couple maybe? For some reason that image makes Keith want to separate them two with his own body. He doesn't, though, because that would be weird.

"What are we supposed to be doing?" Hunk asks. "Like we have a map, but no clue on what the quest is actually about? Are we stopping a bunch of monsters? Killing some ancient evil entity? Fighting rogue demigods?"

"Rogue demigods?" Lance repeats, one eyebrow arched high into his hairline. Hunk shrugs defensively.

"Maybe something Macaria talked to you about will give us a clue?" Shiro hints at Lance, his usually top notch subtlety somehow not being put to good use. Lance looks away, at the ground, the hand not hidden behind his knee picking at the torn up jeans he wears. He shivers as a breeze picks up suddenly, and Keith realizes Lance is still completely shirtless.

Keith pointedly does not look away from Lance's face as he slips off his dark red leather jacket and hands it to Lance. He takes it gratefully and slips it on. Keith ignores the chill that racks his spine when another cool breeze passes. Lance is the one who almost died, Keith can suffer a little chill. Not that he hasn't done so before anyways.

"We talked about a few things, but not much about the quest. Though," Lance trails off. "I have a decent idea of what's going on."

"You do?" Shiro asks, surprised. It seems he never expected Lance to answer.

"I had a dream while I was," Lance swallows thickly, Adam's apple bobbing at his throat. For some reason Keith is enthralled with the movement. "Dying. A nightmare more like actually." They're silent as they wait for Lance to elaborate. "I was in Camp, and it was empty. Then a strange man spoke to me like he knew who I was. He said-" Lance pauses, hesitates.

"Well it doesn't matter what he said, but I think he plans to overthrow the gods. He showed me the camp in ruins, flames, and the camp looking like some Disney villain army encampment. The same thing with the Roman camp. As well as two others I don't recognize, but I'm fairly positive they were demigod camps. Of some kind." Lance explains. His face turns twisted like he's in pain.

"Do you have any idea who it is?" Hunk asks. Lance shrugs unevenly, one shoulder higher than the other.

"I don't know, I've never seen the man before but Coran gave me a- the journal!" Lance bursts out in panic surging to his feet, wobbling, then rummaging through all of the packs and supplies. The sudden burst of movement makes Keith flinch unintentionally.

"Journal?" Hunk asks. "What journal?"

Lance finishes off one pack, the contents strewn across the ground haphazardly, and moves onto the next in much the same manner. Lance mutters frantically underneath his breath. He forgoes taking everything out one at a time and just dumps the pack upside down. This one is clearly Hunk's pack as a bunch of random gadgets and mechanical pieces crash to the ground.

"Hey!" Hunk whines, though he doesn't sound that upset about the mess. More like he's concerned. Or worried. Or scared. Or a lot of things actually. Keith needs to learn how to read people better.

"Coran gave me a journal that seemed really important and necessary and I need to find it!" Lance says. Pidge is the one to cry out indignantly when it's her pack being turned over.

"Geez lance be careful! And have you thought to look in your pack first?" Pidge huffs. Lance pauses in his rummaging and looks for his pack, as if he had suddenly remembered he had one of his own. He dives for it like a volleyball player diving to save the ball from touching the ground. Soon Lance's stuff joins the mess.

His stuff isn't quite so unique compared to the gadgets in Hunk's pack and the computer and stuff in Pidge's. In actuality his pack almost resembles Shiro's, the first pack to be rummaged through. Shiro seems to have no concern over Lance going wildly through their stuff as he watches out into the darkness of night.

The flames of the small fire cast flickering shadows on the wall of the overhang, coating the entire group in an eerie glow. Once again Keith wishes he could draw, to capture the moment on paper. The way the fire dancing across Shiro's face makes his scar almost dance with it, his metal arm shimmering with the light. The way Pidge is cast in Hunk's shadows, and how Hunk looks looming and dangerous with the flames touching his dark brown eyes.

And Lance.

The way Lance moves so frantically through his pack, the flickering light making Lance's movements seem like he's moving through water. Like he is water. A form barely held together as a whole. It's makes his tan skin glow gold like Apollo's. His blue eyes nearly glow, white teeth gnawing at his lower lip. Dark hair twisting around his head in flashes of flame and flashes of darkness. Keith's red jacket like their own flames engulfing Lance's body.

Keith swallows thickly and looks away.

Somehow his eyes land on the very thing Lance is looking for. It's hidden beneath his jacket, now torn at the shoulder where Lance was injured, a dark red stain surrounding the hole. It makes sense that no one thought to look there. The jacket is pushed up against the wall in a heap, dark enough that it blends with the dark dirt and far enough away that the flames don't cast light upon it. The journal that peeks out from beneath is dark too, but the pale cream of the pages on the side is a bright spot against so much dark.

Keith eases up slowly, not wanting to cause any unwanted attention. Everyone's eyes are on Lance as he gives a short shout of frustration. Keith grabs the book before Lance can start making a mess of his pack too and stops Lance from going after it with a hand on his shoulder. He holds the journal out delicately, looking Lance in the eyes. His pretty blues are misty with tears that haven't fallen.

"Is this it?" Keith asks near silently. The misty look disappears from his eyes and he goes to grab the book from Keith. The movement at first is violent, reaching to grab the book and yank it from Keith's hands. Then as Lance settles his long fingers around the spine, their fingertips touching just barely, his movement slows to a crawl. He slowly takes the book from Keith's grasp. The brief contact wasn't a lot but it still sent hot tingles up his wrist.

"Thank you." Lance says. And then the charged moment snaps as their eyes look away from each other. Lance settles on the ground with a heavy thump and an even heavier sigh.

Keith returns to his place on the other side of the fire. The seating is no longer one sided though, the four of them no longer on one side and he on the other. Shiro, Pidge and Hunk still sit across from Keith, facing out into the openness beyond. But now Keith and Lance sit on the other side, next to each other, knees almost touching.

Keith is not a thinking type of person.

He doesn't think about his actions most of the time, he just goes for it and damned be the consequences. It's gotten him kicked out of many schools, thrown out of many foster homes, and unintentionally made him a bully or a victim. Sometimes (most times) he was the stronger one, making Keith the bully even though the other kids started it. Other times he was the smaller one and the other kids had the advantage so Keith became the victim.

So he's no philosopher, and he's no ponderer.

But it seems even Keith can make an exception. He knows he's not the brightest when it comes to other people. It's hard to understand the emotions and feelings on their faces, and the intentions behind their actions. He's not even used to being so thoughtful about what he isn't.

He's never before lamented he was a fighter and not an artist. He's never lamented that he sometimes can't understand other people unless they explain it to him in clear words. He's never lamented the fact that he's technically only ever had one friend, and that's Shiro. But now? Now he wants it all with a burning passion.

He wants to understand jokes so he can laugh with other people. He wants to understand facial expressions and body language so he can be the one to comfort someone else for once. He wants to have friends other than Shiro who won't just disappear when he gets too much of a burden.

There's always been a metaphorical line that separates him from other people. One that he tries desperately to cross but he can't see it. Only those on the other side know where the line is and refuse to let him cross into their world. Up until now Shiro was the only one who ever crossed the line to Keith. Now, just as Lance sits beside him on one side of the fire, so might he stand beside him on Keith's side of the line.

Or perhaps Lance has one foot on either side, ready to cross either which way but not decided on which side he would choose yet. Keith vainly hopes Lance leans to Keith's side, but he won't know until Lance crosses completely.

"So," Shiro finally speaks up, drawing the word out with a faint southern drawl. Shiro isn't southern, but Keith is. It makes Keith wonder if maybe Shiro picked up on Keith's barely there southern accent. If that's even possible. "What's so important about the journal?" Shiro asks.

"I don't know yet. I haven't read anything from it but something about the man in the dream made me think of Coran and subsequently the journal." Lance explains. He cuts himself off with a yawn before continuing. "Whoever he was though he was good at controlling my dream. He had me paralyzed, barely able to speak, let alone move. And he said something along the lines of him seeing my impending death on my soul."

"Huh." Pidge says, a hand on her chin in thought. "A son of Hypnos maybe? Since he could control dreams?"

"No," Lance says as he shakes his head. "He's too powerful. If he's a demigod, which is still unclear, I'd say he rivals the power of Shiro and Allura. I could see it."

That makes Keith curious, the way he said that. As if the power coming off of the strange man in the dream was something he could actually see. Something corporeal, something he could touch. His mouth is speaking before Keith has a chance to realize he's doing it.

"What do you mean by you can 'see it'?" Keith asks. Lance snaps his head to the side to stare at Keith with wide eyes, then stares at the journal in his lap, picking at the leather cord binding the pages closed.

"Uh, well." Lance stammers. "Okay so, you can't laugh at me. I swear I'm telling you the truth."

"Lance." Shiro says in a calming voice, finally looking away from the nighttime darkness. "You can tell us anything. We're your friends."

Lance stares at Shiro for a long moment, making the silence between the five of them grow tense. The only sounds in the air are the crickets and the distant howling of bobcats or coyotes or whatever big predator animals the desert have. Lance finally slumps his shoulders with a sigh.

"So ever since I was young I get these," Lance pauses to try and figure out the words. "Flashes of color around certain people, and it didn't really happen until I learned of my godly blood. Then it happened more often but I kind of learned to ignore it like it wasn't there. To the point where sometimes I don't even realize it happened again until after the fact." Lance explains. He starts drawing little runic designs in the sand that look vaguely familiar.

"I get them for everyone, or at least the demigods and Gods. Usually the color is muted gold, maybe with another color kind of mixed in. Sort of like auras? But not quite. Some demigods shine brightly, blindingly like Macaria and," Lance pauses and swallows thickly. "Shiro and Allura too. They all nearly blinded me the first time I saw them. The gods, or at least those I've met, which isn't many, all shone the brightest. First time I met Apollo I nearly passed out from being overwhelmed by the glow."

"Glow, as in what Macaria said?" Pidge asks tentatively. Lance nods.

"She knew what it was, and she explained only that it made me unique, that I was gifted due to my heritage. It's supposedly one of many things that are in my power that makes me stand above other demigods or whatever." Lance says, and Keith can practically feel the waves of bitterness rolling off of him. "And I'm sorry, by the way."

Lance looks up and eyes them all with a sorrowful look.

"Macaria she, she used the glow against me. Used it like Shiro and Allura didn't know they could." Lance says. Shiro nearly jerks back in shock.

"What do you mean?" Shiro asks.

"I mean, there's a reason I'm always hanging off of you two." Lance says wryly, a dry smirk quirking at his lips. "The glow, when it's bright enough, enthralls me. Makes me crave the close proximity to it. At least that's what Macaria said it was. She told me to learn to resist the thrall or I won't be a help on this quest, I'll only hinder it."

"But what does the glow mean? What's it there for?" Hunk asks. Lance goes to answer, then pauses, eyes wide and bewildered.

"You guys are making it sound like you believe me." Lance says. Keith tilts his head curiously to the side, eyeing Lance's profile.

"Why wouldn't we?" Keith asks. Lance looks at him and Keith stares into glowing blue eyes. "You said you were telling the truth, why wouldn't we believe you?"

"Exactly." Hunk says, nodding. Pidge hums her agreement.

"I've never known you to lie about something so important Lance. I doubt you would start now." Shiro says. Lance blinks and then smiles a tiny little smile.

"Thanks guys. But to answer Hunk's question I don't know. I don't think Macaria knows for sure either. She said she was the only person she's known for centuries who sees it until I was born." Lance says, a shrug of his shoulders. Then he wrinkles his nose. "And apparently she felt it when I was born too, which weirded me out so I changed the subject."

"Well first," Pidge starts. "Creepy. Second. Did she say anything else about what she does know?" Lance shrugs to her question.

"Just that the fates put her through hell in back a few times, even literally. That I should be careful of my own self and of others if I want to survive." Lance says. He throws it out there casually, but even Keith, antisocial Keith, can see the hard line of Lance's lips, and the tense set of his shoulders, the strain of his voice to stay casual.

"Anyways." Lance explodes out suddenly, jumping up and quickly repacking everything he made a mess of in no time flat. He soon turns on heel and places his hands on his hips. "I'm tired. Who has first watch? And no, Shiro, it won't be you. When I woke up you were standing watch." Lance says, beating Shiro to the punch.

Shiro actually pouts and concedes to Lance's demand.

What a pushover.

Keith goes to offer himself up as watchman when Lance glares him down. Apparently Keith is lumped in with Shiro on the whole being forbidden from taking watch thing. Seems it's up to Pidge and Hunk.

"I'll do it." Pidge says, standing with a languid stretch of her body. Keith winces as he hears her neck, knees, and fingers pop. Then she twists her body and her back pops too. Keith suppresses a shudder at the sound. He hates that sound. Why would anybody do something like that to their own bodies? "I've got enough sleep anyways. Y'all get some rest, I've got your backs."

Pidge then swipes up her weird boomerang blade thing and strides out to the edge of the overhang with a blanket, settling up against a rock and crossing her legs. She's a far more relaxed sentry then Shiro was, but Keith has no doubt she's twice as deadly.

Lance is the first to stride over to where he had been unconscious earlier as he healed, laying down and sliding the heap of a jacket underneath his head as a pillow. Hunk isn't far behind, and for that matter neither is Shiro, though he simply lays on his back where he had been sitting, arms beneath his head. Keith looks back towards Lance and freezes when glaring blue eyes lock onto him.

With a huff he slides onto his side to fall asleep, or at least pretend to.

Every time Keith peeks his eyes open Lance is still looking at him with a deadly glare. Eventually the allure of rest conquers and he's soon falling asleep to Hunk's snoring and Shiro's sleepy whistle noises he makes in his sleep.

"Goodnight Keith." Lance whispers and Keith doesn't have time to return it before he's falling under the veil of unconsciousness.

******

(First)(Previous)(Next)(Last)(AU 1)(AU 2)(AO3)

#voltron #voltron fic #lance mcclain #keith kogane #katie holt #pidge gunderson #takashi shirgane #shiro #hunk garrett #broganes #hunay #shadam #adashi #klance #percy jackson universe #greek gods #greek mythology #pjo!voltron

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ryouverua · 6 years ago

Text

Kaito Momota FTE - (Kaede #2)

alright who’s going to be the one to tell him -

Kaede would you please share with the rest of the class? I want to hear the stories too!

..... Damn it.

Kaito FTE #1

You’re welcome, Kaede.

too soon?

RIGHT I FORGOT TO TAKE A SCREENSHOT SO I WANT TO MAKE IT CLEAR THAT I DID NOT HAND HIM A COPY OF HIS OWN JACKET THAT SHUICHI PEELED OFF HIS CORPSE IN ANOTHER TIMELINE -

IT’S JUsT NiCE, YOU KNOW... TO SEE HIM SMILING.... AND NOT BLEEDING...

Kaito is just jumping into all of these conversations guns blazing lmao -

Also, for a while??? Kaito it’s been two days??? How much have you been thinking about her???

no seriously like Kaito is honestly all over her and gushing about her in chapter 1 canon and his FTEs fhghgh

“BECAUSE I’M SUPER INTO YOU AND WOULDN’T IT BE COOL IF WE WERE THE FIRST COUPLE IN SPACE -”

It’s interesting - I bet I would have taken this all for him being a blowhard if I’d played this in Chapter 1, you know? Just trying to steal Kaede’s thunder, or take partial credit via an imagined what-if scenario. You know the type of guy I’m talking about.

But... well, we do actually get to see him in action. And even though he isn’t able to get everyone on-side at first, that can be partially attributed to the first murder creating an obvious rift in the group. He does manage to pull Shuichi and Maki together, and then even Himiko, Gonta and K1-b0 and Tsumugi.... sorta... in Chapter 4 and 5. Everyone rallies together to rescue him, and they all clearly comment on the void his absence leaves (hell even Korekiyo in Chapter 3 comments on it). He was able to rally the group together, pretty impressively so!

AGAIN.... ACTUALLY TRUE...

Because yeah Kaito does go ahead impulsively on things (punching Kokichi in the escape tunnel is a big one), but you know who was a better example of this post-game? Maki. Kaito was actually pretty good about working together with everyone else. The only time he really isolated himself had to do with his own illness.

i-is that a flutter of a death flag waving in the distance or is that just me -

AMAZING.

d e n i e d

KAITO YOU ARE WAY TOO BLASÉ ABOUT FORGERY ASDF;LKJ

does... does that include astronauts Kaede I’m asking for a friend

I guess just being interested in me is fine

kaito pout

I think I talked about it in Shuichi’s first FTE with Kaito and I was looking the stats up for a different reason, but... the current mortality rate of an astronaut is apparently between 1-4% which is actually somewhat high. Not nearly the highest, but it’s not great. Thankfully a lot of that is behind us, with some of the deadliest catastrophes being the original Apollo 1 training mission pre-flight and the Challenger, but... well.... there’s a reason there’s such a high bar being placed on who can go up there. The training itself to be able to handle being up there is intense.

Also, they apparently spend two hours every day exercising when they’re up there to maintain their health damn. You can catch these hands at one hour, thanks

“But you’ll also have to work out two hours a day.”

shit

Yeah I was pretty fast to click the most positive option ha ha ~ I was pretty caught up in his enthusiasm!

MY BOY.... EVEN NOW, THINKING ABOUT OTHERS...

With that said, I definitely wanted to check out the other options. So without further ado:

AND THEN I FUCKING CRIED BECAUSE GOD KAITO JUST REACHED OUT THROUGH THE SCREEN AND SHOOK MY UNMOTIVATED ASS -

no seriously may consider putting that up somewhere as a background hmm

Honestly Kaito doing his best to try and motivate Kaede gives me life -

Ultimate Life Coach Kaito Momota???

and now, the ‘Kaede just isn't that into you’ option -

“A-And I’m definitely not conflating the universe with myself at all! Nope! Definitely not!”

Shouldn’t have given him an in, Kaede ~

But yeah, as soon as it comes to facing down challenges he’s grinning again. It’s not surprising at all. Rising up to a challenge, perceived or otherwise, is practically his bread and butter! he’s also apparently into that. thank you LSE for that enlightening look at Kaito’s interests -

Aaaaaand we’re back!

It’s nice to have a reminder that ‘mad at Kokichi’ isn’t his default mode.

hguuuuuu

WHELP AHAHA THERE’S HIS ENTIRE CHARACTER ROLE LAID OUT FOR US

The game is literally telling us that he’s here to be the one who supports everyone

what I’m not crying you’re crying

shut up

AND HE FUCKING.... DID.... WITH HELP, HE MANAGED TO CREATE THE PATH TO GET EVERYONE OUT....

it’s okay Kokichi will do the planning for you, on the fly, and it’s going to involve a lot of ‘nishishis’ on your part and a few references to nipples. Don’t worry, it’ll make sense when you get there -

‘He’s not always logical, but there’s an intense power to his words.’

That’s some damn high praise coming from Kaede, who is more than happy to speak her mind. Aaaah, jeez, they were so great to see interact. Until next time, Spaceman.

#Kaito Momota #Kaede Akamatsu #Ryou plays drv3 #spoilers #drv3 spoilers #Momomatsu #tagged because I can't shut up about it lol

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onkey-bedtime-stories · 7 years ago

Text

Tremble (1/3)

WINTER

***

Taemin : Are u going to show up tomorrow?

Jinki : Still think about it

Jinki : The restaurant closed around 10

Taemin : Come on! U hv two sous chefs!

Taemin : Let them work :P

Jinki : Dude, it’s not a restaurant without the head chef around

Taemin : But what’s the point of hiring them if you cannot gain some free time?

Taemin : Come on, Jinki.. U know tomorrow night is important to me

Jinki : I know, that’s why I said I’m still thinking about it

Taemin : You won’t regret it

Taemin : I have lots of good looking friends on my guest list

Taemin : #wink

Jinki : I can get laid by myself

Jinki : I even have invitations already waiting for me until the weekend

Jinki : And it’s only Wednesday

Taemin : Show off

Jinki : Sometimes drastic measures are needed

Taemin : Okay, just consider it

Taemin : Not because I have people with good asses coming to the party

Taemin : It’s because you’re my friend and this is important

Jinki : I know

Jinki : Text me the address anyway

Jinki : Just in case I can sneak out one hour earlier

Taemin : Cool! I’ll send the e-invitation to ur email

Taemin : The party starts by 9

Taemin : C U tomorrow! :)

“Aren’t you too old for that?”

Kibum came back to their table with two cups of coffees. He handed one cup to Taemin and sipped what’s inside his before flopped to the grey couch at the corner of the cafe, continued to read the book from where he left it.

“What? Texting?”

“Hmmm,” his eyes aren’t leaving the page opened before him.

“This is what you’ve called networking. You need to keep up with today’s trend to be able staying at the top of society.”

He finally lifted his head to meet Taemin’s eyes, “Drink your coffee. I think you’re not getting over your last night hangover.”

“Ha. Neat,” he put his phone aside, “You’re coming tomorrow, right?”

“You mean your party?”

“What else?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. There would be lots of important people coming over.”

“I should have been insulted with your statement that makes me and my achievement less important but I guess you’re right, I still have the headache from last night I refused to have any quarrel with anyone.”

“Honey, you can stick with your phone and all those youngster hype, but this is what I called networking. Don’t be too sad, I still love you.”

“Whatever. Dress up nicely.”

“You seriously doubt my wardrobe taste?”

“There’s someone I want you to meet. He might looks like a careless person, but when he stepped on any party, he’s not a joke.”

Kibum raised his torn eyebrow when the words finally hit him, “He?”

Taemin chuckles across the table, “Well, after your recent divorce, I don’t think you want to hang around someone who has more than one X chromosome in their DNA. So?”

“So what?”

“Are you interested?”

“I don’t know.”

It’s not like Kibum wanted to solitude himself from all the females as resentment of the separation with his ex-wife. Since he knew what love is back in the first year of high school, he’s open to anyone for he believes gender determined what kind of good heart people has for him. He just needs the time for himself in general, after five years he spent together with her seemed like vanished in vain because both of them cannot handle each other ego during their three years of marriage.

“It’s about time to open your heart again, no?”

“After only six months? Are you being sober now?”

“Easy there, Tiger. I’m just thinking you blamed yourself enough for something that’s already broken more than one year ago. No offense. And don’t give me that look,” Kibum pulls the best effort not to roll his eyes, “I’m not telling you to get married again, Kim Kibum. You just need to start living.”

“Am I dead already for you or what?”

“Yes. You might be here and there trying to put on the pretty mask but you’re just so dead inside. How long we’ve known each other, really? That doesn’t work for me.”

“Lecturing me doesn’t get us anywhere. Moving on it’s not that easy.”

“I know. But moving forward is doable and that’s what you should do right now.”

Kibum leaned closer to recheck whether he’s been talking with the same Lee Taemin he knew since college, “You really are still drunk, aren’t you? Since when you had those fancy words came out your filthy mouth?”

“Internet does crazy stuff on you, you don’t know that?”

Kibum scoffed and grabbed his book back though his mind is not here to continue the story line anymore.

***

Lee Jinki is not a fan of a crowd actually, unless with some alcohol involved and the plan of fooling around entailed. Still, crowd gives him freedom, to mind his own business, to decide what’s to care about and what’s not.

Since a week ago, Taemin had been pestering him to stop by his party for the opening of his new studio. Being a famous photographer, he had the needs to make the night unforgettable. Besides, the younger man had been talking about how cool and perfect his new place is.

In the ocean of stranger like this, he regrets arrived there sober.

“Lee Jinki!!”

A bright lean man screamed from near what supposed to be the main stage. Jinki waved his hand toward him but isn’t planning to greet him yet, instead he walked closer to the buffet table near the entrance and snatched a glass of prosecco. He nods to the choice of the liquor.

“Look at you! Who said he’s not coming but dressed up like one of my model?”

“This?” he assessed himself right away, black silk shirt under the same color leather jacket matched with pair of maroon pants and white Reebok classic on both his feet, “This is nothing.”

“Bullshit. You definitely rushed home, took shower, and picked your wardrobe carefully.”

“Well, aren’t you glad I finally made it?”

“Apart of I’m quite happy about it, I was pretty sure you’re coming. Lee Jinki refusing party invitation? That only happened two years ago.”

“Shut up!” he put the empty glass back and grabbed two more, one he handed to Taemin’s hand, “Congratulation, Mr. Photographer. New studio, new adventures ahead!”

The clink sounds of the two glass meeting on the air submerged by the loud longue music from the DJ at the right corner of the stage. As usual, Jinki finished his drink in one shot, leaving Taemin shaking his head to the habit.

“In this rate, you’ll get drunk before I did my speech.”

Jinki shrugged and took another glass, “Had a rough day at the restaurant. A couple kept sending back the food to the kitchen with some ridiculous reason. I needed to drag my butt out of the back house to greet them personally.”

“Is that the reason you left early?”

“You can say that. Or more like I don’t like the thought of me missing free flow in the middle of the boring week,” he winked and Taemin only snickered, “So, what did I miss?”

“Nothing, besides the mini tour I gave to the potential important client. And simple exhibition of my previous works.”

“Knowing that I won’t be your client in any future soon and I visited one of your exhibitions before, then I can continue wandering around looking for some goodies,” Jinki raised his fourth glass now already.

“Ah, speaking about the goodies. I need to introduce you to someone.”

“Your new boyfriend?”

“I don’t date anymore, Honey.”

“Ah, I forgot you’re now the exclusive mistress of that famous dancer Kim Jongin.”

“Stop saying some gibberish, this one is a present for you because you actually made an effort to give your time to me.”

“I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

“You always said that whenever I have a lover candidate for you.”

“Because it always ended up in a mess!”

“Did not!”

Jinki gulped down his sixth glass, “Did not? The last one you brought to me, four out of five times had cried whenever I led him to the bedroom. The one before that guy, already became someone’s else wife. Which one of them that wasn’t a disaster for you?”

“Okay.. okay, I made some mistakes. Who am I to lie to you? I haven’t figured it out how to find a right man for my own.”

“Then why don’t you take this one?”

“He’s a close friend of mine! Besides, he got your favorite!”

“My favorite?”

“Yeah. Perfect pair of bow lips.”

“Prettier than that one?” Jinki put down his seventh glass while pointing across the room with his chin.

Following the direction, Taemin spun quickly just to find Kibum talking to a group of women which he presumed as new acquaintances he acquired tonight judged from the way Kibum’s standing. One and other time, he glances to the place where Taemin and Jinki are standing as if their presence is a huge distraction to the conversation he engaged with the new friends he made.

Taemin returned back to Jinki which his eyes now pass through his skull to have a better look on the guy with the cashmere turtle neck with the twinkling feline eyes. A smirk appeared immediately on Taemin’s face.

***

Kibum found it hard to continue engaged on the conversation he’s in since the sight of a man who looks like Apollo descendant intruded his vision. That guy looks so out of place but at the same time, giving the vibe that he’s born for the event like this. He doesn’t look threatening, however, those eyes, once struck with Kibum’s and he choked on the wine he’s been nursing since half an hour ago, making him spilled some of the liquid to his chest.

He thanked the universe he left the house with the black top instead any other color.

Though he’s definitely not one of the models Taemin has worked with before, the quality of this man’s look can easily passed for one. There’s something about him that hooked Kibum since the very beginning, forgetting what he convinced himself earlier to make tonight only for business purpose and stay around that circle. His initial plan ruined easily when he caught himself glancing more than three times in the span of ten minutes.

“Ah, really? That would be great. Here’s my name card. Contact me whenever you want,” he took out some card from his wallet, “Now if you excuse me, I need to go to the restroom.”

And with that, Kibum retreated himself from the crowd to calm himself. Once he reached the sink, he splashed some water to his face. Kibum slapped his cheeks several times, this is not happening.

He’s not seventeen anymore. But the drum rolled banging inside his chest is telling him the contrary. Having stupid crush is not his type of playground anymore. After some serious relationships ended up in not so nice break ups back in college and one failed marriage, he thought he would be more cautious and even became numb to this kind of feeling. Maybe it’s just the lust. And the neediness started build up in him after one year absence of attention. Yeah, maybe that’s the reason. Get a grip, Kim Kibum.

After spending what have been like forever in the bathroom stall, Kibum thought it would be safe for him to get out and mingle again. He’s searching for Taemin right away, secretly hoping the man with the maroon slack still tagging around. Nevertheless, Taemin seems unlikely to be found within the crowd. He kept looking to his muse, because there’s usually he would stand and explain some of his works, but those models are scattered here and there and no one has Taemin on their arms.

“Where the heck is this ungrateful kid?”

“You like what you saw?”

A deep soothing voice from his side startled him to after life if it’s not to death. He cocked his head to the source of force driven him crazy only by the sound, Kibum stepped back instinctively once he realized their distance is closer than he calculated back in his hazy mind.

“Earlier. Don’t tell me you’re not looking to my direction.”

“Wow. Such amount of confident,” Kibum snickered whilst inside he’s flipped upside down.

“Well, to begin with, I wouldn’t be this confident if I didn’t catch a beautiful human being like you giving me those intrigued glances every two minutes.”

“Oh, how smooth. How many glasses did you take to be this gallant?”

“So you did look at me.”

Jinki chuckles and when he caught Kibum just an inch before flustered as if someone found out his biggest secret.

“It’s a best friend instinct. When a very threatening man with this all manipulative vibe hanging around your best friend, you cannot just stand still and act as if nothing happened. I don’t want something bad happened with Taemin.”

Jinki closed their distance a little bit, aiming his mouth dangerously to Kibum’s ear, puffing hot breathe that turning Kibum’s whole body into stupid giddy sensation.

“Oh really? What about you, then? Want something bad happened to you?”

Usually, Kibum is not in favor of including himself in any conversation buttered all over with innuendo. But this man, changed every single thing he believed in less than five minutes. Especially when he can still feel him huffing on his neck though it’s wrapped completely under the fabric of his knitwear.

“I guess you took more than five. This one is so much better than your first defense.”

“Seven to be exact.”

“You better take care of yourself, Dear Stranger, the party just started and knowing Taemin for years, this is nothing but a teaser.”

Jinki doesn’t wait any clue to press his hip to Kibum’s side, “Why don’t you help me to take care myself? Or do I interrupt you?”

Kibum observed the face of the man next to him, he looks so beautiful even under the poor light, “You must have taken a time-management class very diligently.”

He poked Jinki’s nose quickly, both cannot deny the spark in such limited touch.

“Just being efficient, I don’t see the point to waste limited time for unimportant business.”

“What’s exactly unimportant business here?”

“Working on my uncooperative brain at the moment to arrange some words together trying to get into your pants while I’m pretty much sure it’s going to happen anyway without such futile effort.”

Jinki ducked his head to fix his hair. Little did Kibum know, he tried to hide his eyes while observing the latter’s reaction.

Kibum just beamed into wide smile, still doesn’t believe on what he just heard, “Aren’t you one of a kind with fancy mouth?”

“How about you can tell yourself once you get a taste on that?”

“Interesting.”

“You think so?”

Jinki kept staring intensely to Kibum. After the cute little dimples adorned the corner of his mouth a while ago, Jinki found it so hard to stay away from his flawless face.

“Sort of. Never in my life had I heard this kind of lame pick-up lines,” Kibum scoffed to control his grogginess.

“Well, someone gotta take the chance to try that out. Up until now, the success rate is still 50-50.”

“You tried this before?” Kibum’s almost shrieked toward the fact, “Who’s this poor soul that had to endure this kind of torture?”

“In front of you,” Kibum’s face turned into a mixture of disbelief and amusement, “This guy was such a talker and he got me under his skin in no time.”

“Wow. Tell me who talked about exes during their first encounter.”

“No one. But you’re beyond what people around me would describe as a perfect human being.”

“Looks like you picked up a lot from him.”

Jinki laughed, pinching his eyes into a perfect crescent, Kibum needs to brush off the urge to cup his face right away, “Let’s just say I’m a fast learner.”

“That’s actually good to put in your curriculum vitae.”

“I didn’t know this require such an application.”

“Oh, I usually don’t,” Kibum’s head fell to the back a little bit while he massaged his neck, “I did that only for the strong candidates.”

“Interesting.”

“Aren’t I always?”

“I don’t have opinion about that since I only saw you,” Jinki wriggling his wrist to check the time, “For about an hour so far.”

“Then we need to get to know each other more.”

The smirks curved on Kibum’s bow lips sent chills down Jinki’s spine. He slipped his hand on the other waist and rested it there after Kibum doesn’t make any protective gesture.

“So, here’s the thing. Who am I talking with this past fifteen minutes?”

“You may call him Kibum.”

“Ah, Kibum,” his voice ghosting above his cheek, “I like the way I rolled that name. But I can do more with my tongue, just so you know.”

“Is that an invitation Sir…”

“Jinki. I go by Jinki.”

Kibum arched his back slightly, purposely stretched his neck too much just so his milky skin peeked behind the cashmere, “Is that an invitation Sir Jinki?”

“If you said so, Dear..”

“Then I know somewhere perfect to get to know each other better.”

“Do you even know this place?”

For Jinki, Taemin’s new studio just looked like an old barn with stone, woods, and glasses for the aesthetic purpose. He has no idea actually, it’s the first time he hang out to such place besides his house, his kitchen, and bars.

“Oh, please. I sold this place to Taemin two months ago.”

***

Kibum didn’t know for sure what brought him here. Maybe the lust, maybe the lack of affection he experienced since his separation, or the needs of attention he craved during his sabbatical period. But since he closed the door of that main hall to the small green house at the back of the building, he couldn’t keep his hand for himself.

The other man of course didn’t help at all since what he’d been doing is basically groping Kibum’s pert globes or nuzzling to his side or mapping the hidden surface along his spine.

Anyway, like Kibum minds at all.

Once they sat at the wooden bench placed against the cold stone wall – Kibum basically thanked himself for suggesting Taemin’s interior designer to put some cushion on it – Jinki attacked those inviting cupid lips without further ado. Kibum’s giggles suppressed back to the down of his throat, he’s unable to laugh at his pathetic desire for Jinki’s velvety mouth melted his entire defense mechanism. He just naturally opened his mouth slightly wider when Jinki surprisingly carefully prodded its surface with his tongue.

“Hmmphh,” Kibum hissed in between heated domination battle, “You indeed have particular skill with your tongue.”

Jinki pulled back a little bit just to give him some space to nip at Kibum’s lower lips, “This is not even 50% of my capability, Sweetheart.”

Kibum yelped inaudibly when strong arms brought him settled on Jinki’s lap. The moonlight fell right on Jinki’s face from the glass roof, giving it mesmerizing picturesque shades. Kibum cupped his cheeks and devour what he left before. Jinki’s hand traveling haphazardly on Kibum’s back, and ended up grabbing handful of his ass leaving him squealing.

Again, like Kibum minds at all.

“Shit,” Jinki cussed when Kibum started going south and nibble on his exposed neck. The man lapping here and there, occasionally stopped a little bit longer to suck at his Adam’s apple, sending his soul ascending to heaven.

“Ah!” a perfect mixture of groan and moan slipped out Kibum’s mouth when Jinki rolled his hips against him. The sounds excited Jinki to move more erratically to satisfy both restrained needs. As if they’re dancing partner for years already, Kibum acknowledge the pace and started grinding back.

“Ugh, Kibum..”

The said man just arched his back and brought Jinki’s to his chest. Jinki secured both his hands to Kibum’s slender waist and inhales deeply of the other man’s scent. They were like pieces of puzzles finally clicked to each other, after wait for too long in such desperation.

Kibum detached themselves for a moment to look at Jinki’s eyes, pretty eyes that reflects his own craving, pretty eyes that drown him since the very second he drop his gaze on it. Jinki never found himself fascinated this much among his one night stands life. He realized Kibum is something when he doesn’t only want to suck every single inch of skin beneath the clothes but also handling it with care as if he’s the most precious and fragile ancient Egypt treasure.

Jinki about to lean further to capture Kibum’s lips but the hands on both sides of his cheeks restrain him to do so.

“I cannot do this.”

“Why?” even if he doesn’t have a mirror before him, Jinki can definitely see the frown fell upon his own face, “You don’t want this as much as I do?”

Kibum shakes his head again before rested his forehead to Jinki, “No, no, you’re beautiful, Jinki. So beautiful I couldn’t believe myself that this is real. But I’m not supposed to do this to you. It’s not fair.”

“Not fair?” Jinki asked again, suddenly terrified by the reality he’s about to face, “You have a boyfriend already? Girlfriend?”

Kibum pecked his nose slowly before flashing his hand above his eyes. Something cracked inside his chest when Jinki saw the silver band on his ring finger.

“You’re married.”

“It’s been only six months after a horrible divorce.”

“So? What’s holding you up?”

“You don’t get it, do you?”

Jinki rolled his eyes before stating the matter of fact here, “I’m single and you’re a widow. Whom are we going to hurt here?”

“You, Jinki. You. As much as I want you to continue what you’re doing down there,” both of them looking to the point where their crotch glued to each other, “Yes, the way your little prince been nudging my ass frantically had been driving me crazy I wanted to ruin your expensive silk shirt and suck your collar bones for the rest of the night, believe me. I just don’t want this to only because I’m sexually deprived.”

“So what do you want?”

Jinki is not the type who compromised during heated hour like this. But strangely, for Kibum, he’s willing to do it at least for once.

“I want you when I want you. Not when I need a release.”

Kibum removed himself from Jinki’s laps, he couldn’t help to chuckle when he notice the obvious bulge on the other’s southern region. He fixed his hair and adjusted the belt that slightly uneven after some battles of friction. Jinki looks disappointed at some point, but Kibum somehow know he’s not mad with the decision.

“A correction. The prince is not that little, if you know what I mean.”

Kibum let out wholeheartedly laughter and kissed Jinki slow and warm on the cheek, inhaling Jinki as much as possible.

“Of course I know what you mean. Or should I say, I felt?”

It’s Jinki turn to laugh this time, the way it sounds sent Kibum’s hand directly to his bangs and ruffles it messy.

“Now if you allow me, I need to go home and call my kid. It’s around the time she finished her school.”

Wow, a man with a baggage, Jinki sudden thought. But at least he admit Kibum’s a man of courage to go this far, unlike this ex-boyfriend he had that just a lump full of cowardliness. That makes Kibum more than his other flings. He might be too soon to fall, but he doesn’t care because Kibum seemed worth to fight for.

“When will I see you again?”

Kibum stopped by the threshold of the green house’s door. He turned his head and sincerely smiled to the stunned Jinki who sit alone by the bench.

“Spring. I’ll see you again on spring.”

Jinki smile to himself and scratch the back of his head that is not itchy at all.

“Spring is good.”

***

I wrote this on my AFF a while ago. Since I’m not going to write again until I finish my thesis and graduated, hopefully by September or October - finger-crossed, I thought it would be nice to cross-post it here. So, yeah. I appreciate all the support you all gave me up to now. Until I see you again, please be happy and be healthy :)

#onkey #jinkibum #onkey fiction #onkey fanfic #shinee fiction #shinee fanfic #shinee scenario #shinee fic #onkey fic #jinkibum fiction

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pinksweatergettingbetter · 7 years ago

Text

warning, the following has mainly snarky (and possibly furious) opinions on Spirit of Justice. Reader discretion is advised.

Alright, on to part three, where Phoenix’s big fat mouth gets Apollo and Athena into deep doodoo.

QUICK CHILDREN, INTO THE MANHOLE!

SDUFGDGSF YOU CAN ‘MOVE’ WHILE YOURE BEING CHASED

way to ruin the moooooood XD

well athena if its any consolation, smelling like a rotten egg will probably delight sadmad.

y’know. cause youre a putrid egg yolk.

“Once a rebel, always a rebel!”

apollo was never a rebel

you sent him back to America before he could do any rebelling.

>OH MY SNARK IS CONFIRMED BY APOLLO

oh everyone’s met up now

“It was like watching a pair of ostriches bury their heads in the sand”

the FUCK does that mean, Phoenix?!???

“dubious hovel”

whats wrong with athena? i thought she was huddling up in the corner because she saw something unnerving, then maybe because of all the sudden people there–– but it’s implying she’s disgusted by the shitty state of the place?

what, is Athena a germaphobe now??

“He said he hopes you’ll come back and take over this office someday.”

“M-me?”

“Those were his words! He might have been half-joking though.”

I’m not sure which I’m more offended by; the fact that Dhurke still assumed Apollo would make a shit lawyer, or the fact that Apollo does indeed take over. Spoilers. Haha.

“must’ve been because of you, dhurke!”

no it was because of Phoenix Wright because he was a cool guy, once upon a time. also because, unlike every other lawyer in the gotdamn series, Apollo just really friggin loves the law. He thinks lawyers are legit cool and he wanted to be one because he just happened to have a passion for litigating. He’s not a prop in your stupid story, he’s his own interesting person.

“Dhurke was never a hands-on kinda dad...”

you can motherfucking say that again, vore machine.

“...but not a day went by that he wasn’t thinking of ya. That much I’m sure of.”

yeah he sure was

thinking of the favours he could one day ask of him.

“Doesn’t get more paternal than that!”

Athena, you don't even have a dad. Your opinion on the subject is completely worthless.

“(Dhurke... And to think, I really did spend my days trying to forget you...)”

god apollo you don’t deserve this. you deserve trucy and klavier and thalassa (being an actual mom for once) HELL you deserve your ACTUAL, REAL DAD.

“The victim’s passport and any pictures of him were burned up in the fire. Without knowing his real name, no divination seance could be performed.”

So you’re telling me Jove brought every single glossy of himself into that blaze? And after the fire, nobody bothered checking the dental records on the corpse/asking where that neato musician from the other night went?

Once again, DDSOJ police, at their best. If there wasn’t a coverup involved, I’m gonna be pissed.

( My real dad... I was never really interested in learning about him. )

While this is a totally understandable and natural reaction... I really wish–– Actually, no; it’s best Apollo never learned that he once had a father who actually gave a fuck about him. That’d probably break his heart.

“As the son of the terrorist Dhurke, Nahyuta was expelled from the royal family.”

i.... why did Dhurke keep him in Koooraheen, anyway? He really couldn’t have sent him to a happier life in America with his half brother?

huh i think that face-palm is a new expression for Vore Machine. he almost looks reasonable.

“As his son, Yuty no doubt got the cold shoulder at every turn.”

amazing. not only was Apollo abandoned in America in some shit orphanage with zero contact from anything he knew as family, but Sadmad was forced to stay behind in a country that hated his guts. The perfect situation for both boys!!! No wonder they’re both so fucking grouchy all the time! Dhurke, you parental genius!

“Dhurke’s the kinda guy who can become fast friends with just about anyone!”

guess that explains the fandom popularity

“Lol come over n play some jams bro”

“Ok dawg is it chill if i bring my kid my wifes uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

“Yeah its cool I'm great with kids”

“tight”

“It’s like Dhurke’s done nothing but save me all my life” yeah... from messes he made.

“Jangly Justice”

god. i want to root for Jove but like. He looks like a tool, he sounds like a tool, his stage name is the tooliest thing ive ever heard...

originally this section was me ranting about how Thalassa would never have just ‘stopped looking for Apollo’ when she heard that Jove perished in the flames, since Apollo’s corpse was never found and the rebels were out looking for her to give him to her– but instead I’m just gonna leave you with ‘that excuse is mad weak and the writers need to try harder.’

“You should try on the jacket, Apollo!”

“Yeah, yeah!”

Look, I can excuse Athena, because she doesn’t know. But Datz knows its mold infested and disgusting. And he just finished talking about APollo’s tragic past. What the everloving fuck is up with this sicko?!

Also Athena, you can’t laugh at him wearing an eyepatch when he just got done wearing one all last year.

“I’d recognize those horns anywhere!”

“Is that really the only way anyone recognizes me?”

cue Phoenix harrumphing from the corner and brushing his spikes

yknow maybe ive mentioned this before but why /hasn’t/ the queen found the safe house? It’s Dhurke’s old law office; that’d be like, the first place I’d check. Its like wondering if Dumbledore’s Army is based in Hogwarts.

I mean I guess you could say the Queen assumes theyre not stupid enough to hide in their old main haunt but... they’re stupid. they’re really, really stupid. it’s been proven like 800 times.

so we just had a ladder convo about lizards?

also what do you mean geckos like to live in houses? i thought they just climbed around outside them. aLSO WHY ARE THEY EATING THEM

... I appreciate that it ended in a Bugs Bunny Switcharoo though.

...And Phoenix ends it with “theyre just a plain old lizard”

I guess Phoenix doesn’t know flowers or lizards.

i really don’t know why none of the revolutionaries think sadmad’s playing the long con. they’ve all just completely given up on him. what if he was pulling a snape??? they talk about trust and shit and yet none of them trust their own leader’s son? shameful.

“It seems like Gar’an has some serious leverage over him”

okay, they suspect he’s being controlled with some kind of blackmail... and yet do nothing to help him? they’re dumb enough to risk their lives doing something like that, but not compassionate or caring enough?? to their leader’s son???? what the fuck??????

aww i missed Beh’leeb. I hope she and her (born/ unborn? cannot tell if she’s pregnant or not) kid are doing ok.

“So she’s trying to help the revolution along... in her own special way!”

that sounds enormously patronizing phoenix, shut up. she’s pregnant and she has to deal with fucks like Datz running around blowing off firecrackers at government officials.

...youre giving the orb to datz.

ill eat my hat if nothing happens to it.

“We’ll attract undue attention if we go in too large a group”

oh also because youre dressed like baby’s first paint set but

“AAAH!!”

“Do you know something about this?” “Nope! Just felt like shouting is all.”

yes, this is definitely the guy who should hold onto the orb for you. also i presented the attorneys badge. guess he has nothing to say about apollo’s proof of profession, eh?

“Yeah... You’d think Nahyuta might’ve cut his old man some slack, but no.” Dhurke you thick son of a bitch

wow. one single flashback occurrence where Dhurke wasn’t a dick. Well, 1/1000 ain’t too shabby...

“What? You came to visit me and you didn’t even bring me a present?”

What, like your plate of ‘my son is NOT a failure” sushi, Dhurke ?

“But I’m not a rebel.”

“Don’t be ridiculous– You’re a member of the defiant dragons simply by being my son.”

HE’S NOT YOUR SON YOU FUCK

If you present him your attorneys badge he jokes about dying happy and apollo makes it explicit that he means via execution

dhurke. that means apollo would die too. stop fucking joking about him dying you prickwad.

Apollo: Hey Dhurke know anything about this necklace

Dhurke: OOOAAHHH!!! OHHH!! AHHH!!!!

Apollo: So thats a...

Dhurke: Hahahahah its a no son give it here

Apollo: Yeah ok i see nothing suspicious about that at all and i sure hope the secret behind it wasn’t important to this case or anything..........

me: jeez i hope that stupid necklace was the last thing we had to present

phoenix, appearance from god knows where: hey maybe ask about the hostage

me: bless you baby. also i forgot you were here

Phoenix: Sounds like the minister has someone you really care about, cause you totally obeyed everything he did.

i know what youre trying to excuse here SOJ staff but no, straight up lifting right out of JFA will never be ok.

“Is there a new lady in your life?” “WHAT?! DONT BE RIDICULOUS SON!”

I’m gay now! Hahaha. But seriously. Nobody wants to date Dhurke.

“Amara was the love of my life, but she’s gone now, and there will never be another.”

cue Dhurtz shippers furiously jamming their fingers in their ears and whistling

what the

fuck is happening

to his aRM

“You tensed up” HIS BROKEN ARM STARTED VEINING SO HARD THAT IT SHOWED RIGHT THROUGH LIKE 2 LAYERS OF CLOTH

THATS SOME KRISTOPH DEVIL HAND SHIT RIGHT THERE

JESUS CHRI

oh there’s something hidden in there THANK GOD THAT SCAREDTHE FUCK OUTTA ME

“Oh I see– so youre hiding a woman’s photo up your sleeve”

oh yeah, a 3D photo. that has bumpy bits. absolutely apollo.

“You don’t need to keep secrets like that from me– You’re an eligible bachelor now. But you’ll... introduce her to me at some point, right?”

this has that creepy ‘parent insists you have a crush on that one kid’ conversation vibe to it, especially since it’s not like Apollo ever had an attachment to Amara to make him see her as a mother; she was ‘dead’ before he could even walk.

“Mon dieu! Are you into younger women, Dhurke?!”

Athena,,,,,,,, athena,,,, Apollo,,,,, he’s

it’s

oh never mind.

“Heh heh. Dhurke, you old dog, you. You got yourself a younger lover.”

ACTUALLY, YOU KNOW WHAT, NO, NOT NEVER MIND. YOU HAVE A PHOTO OF AMARA. YOU KNOW WHAT AMARA LOOKS LIKE. YOU KNOW HOW TO TELL THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN PAST AND PRESENT DHURKE BECAUSE THERES NO WAY HE COULD JUST RANDOMLY CUT HIS HAIR AND THEN HAVE IT GROW BACK THAT FAST.

I KNOW YOU THINK SHE’S DEAD BUT AT LEAST FUCKING SAY YOU THINK IT’S HER TWIN SISTER YOU UTTER UTTER NUMBSKULLS

“This is Amara before she died. If you look closer, you’ll see that I was younger, too.”

“Hey. You’re right.”

“Aww, that’s no fun.”

MY ULCERS ARE NO FUN BUT GUESS WHAT NEITHER IS LIFE

“Wait a second... Haven’t we seen this woman before?”

DAAAUUUUUUUGGGGHHHHHHH

GOOD FUCKING BALLS PLEASE PLEASE LET THEM BE TROLLING DEAR GOD AAHGGDFKAFAGF

i really love that photo though. everything about it is generally just really nice.

wait hang on. they. they just. they kept her around? after her fake assassination? they just–– WHERE YOU COULD GET A PHOTO OF HER?!

EXPLAIN–– THERE’D BETTER BE A GOOD EXPLAIN

“She was confined within the grounds, but she was fit as a fiddle.”

Ga’ran. Ga’ran. Ga’ran. You stupid, stupid, stupid bitch.

“She was being held under virtual house arrest, so I freed her, and we made a run for it.”

“Of course, we didn’t just proclaim it to the people so that they’d realize Ga’ran was a dirty bitch; that would have been way too easy hahaha.”

Ohhh I see. They didn’t know Ga’ran was the one who did it. Except Ga’ran was the one who kept her under house arrest and faked her death so... It’s pretty obviously her? Amara would know that by putting 2 and 2 together? But no... Apparently Amara was suspicious enough to suspect Dhurke of being the arsonist like Ga’ran said, but brave enough to ‘accompany him so she could ascertain the truth for herself.’

hey remember when i said brave. i meant stupid. she was stupid enough to go with someone she thought might have tried to kill her, completely unsupervised. though i guess you'd have to be that dumb to actually fall in love with Dhurke in the first place.

AH, and she was immediately recaptured. Because Dhurke sucks.

Waaaaait wait wait. How long and when did he ‘rescue’ her? The incident was 23 years ago, but Rayfa is 14– and Amara would need the usual 9 months to gestate– plus, the room she’s holding Rayfa in has the Defiant Dragons handbook in there, so it’s probably someplace of Dhurke’s––

Meaning there was a nine year gap but they still didn’t show her to the general public to depose gar– AGHHH. ITS ALL TERRIBLE!!!

“Apollo. We need to grill the queen about Amara when we have the chance.”

Hobo Nick’s ghost: Hey uhh me, that might get you uhhhhh murdered i thought we got over that after von karma tasered the shit out of u––

SOJ Nick: DOOOOHHOOOHOO I LIKE SOLVING MYSTERIESSS

Apollo: hey maybe the baby Amara’s holding is me.

Athena: Nah it’s too cute to be you.

Apollo: ....i just want to have proof that I’ve known the loving touch of a mother at least ONCE ATHENA OKAY???

“Hm? Oh... well, either way, it’s not you, son.”

yeah fuck you apollo the Sadmahdis only love their REAL children

also its Rayfa. it was in the safe next to Rafya’s letter; Rayfa basically identified it as herself when she saw it, it’s Rayfa.

Apollo: wow youre sure acting vague and suspicious about this; guess i’ll just accept it for what it is.

Dhurke: [tells apollo’s he's going to die and leave him fatherless again]

Apollo: [immediately assumes its another of Dhurke’s jokes because Dhurke’s jokes are horrible and always at Apollo’s expense]

phoenix: ...are you sick?

NICK

OH MY GOD

i shriek laughed

Apollo: [clearly emotionally distraught]

Dhurke: [continues to dance around the issue, thus prolonging Apollo’s suffering]

(Why is this happening now? Just when I was finally starting to feel like you really are my...)

HE DOESN’T DESERVE YOU, APOLLO

GET OUTTA THERE

So far Apollo hasn't said “i’m gonna do x and x and x, or die trying!” and honestly i know it’s a bit on the nose but it’s more true for this situation than any other ones it’s usually said in.

Dhurke: I’ve got a big secret

Apollo: You’ve been hiding something *ELSE* from me?

Dhurke: I’m afraid I can’t tell you what it is. I’d be betraying a certain someone if I did.

WHY DID HE EVEN BRING IT UP THEN!? WHY IS DHURKE JUST THE FUCKING WORST?!!!

“You’ll discover a truth that is hard to accept. But I know you. And I know you can handle the truth, no matter what it turns out to be.”

After all, you’re super great at accepting all the misfortune my existence has heaped upon you! Hahaha!!!

“Apollo... Are you okay?”

“...I’m fine.”

they ask you how you are, and you just have to say that you’re fine, when you’re not really fine, but you just can’t get into it b

h e r e c o m e t h e r e b e l s

and once again you have to manually move there.

action bomb over here from Vore Machine

also beh’leeb sweety youre doing amazing

“Dhurke belongs to the people!! Give him back!!!”

he what now

(sigh)

..............................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................hi.....................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................sadmad...............................................................................................................................................................................

“They’ll be arrested? Just for protesting?!”

Apollo... you live in the real world, r–– oh well technically he doesn't hm

that point’s moot

“They are aiding and abetting a criminal by seeking his release”

uh pretty sure that’s BS yut

“Her Eminence, Queen Ga’ran, has ordered they be arrested and judged en-masse”

ok im fucking

I'm wheezing so bad not ONLY do we have to save a revolution and Dhurke the rebel leader, but we are now about to defend most of the population of an entire country at once. Stakes RAISED bro

good fucking lord apollo stop being all “weren’t you a defiant dragon once?!wehh!!”

even Phoenix, with his Edgeworth obsession, didn’t really question it when Edgeworth was being his shithead prosecutor self.

Nahyuta: Sigh. Guess I can’t escape you. I mean I could use my magic beads to tie you up and then prance off but i have a plot to advance.

“Enough with the zen monk act, Nahyuta– Tell me how you really feel!”

Damnit, Sadmad, it’s not like we have someone who can read emotions by listening to-– oh yeah.

“She’s being held in secret where nobody is allowed to see her.”

second time’s the charm!

Apollo, simply bringing up the reason he’s doing what he’s doing won’t get him to stop. Remember the Phoenix and Maya situation? Until you can guarantee her safety, Sadmad’s just going to keep steam rolling along.

OH FINALLY

ok athena dish the dirt

alright, here we go, folks. time for Nick to get all their asses killed. i mean just listen to that ominous music :/

i love her laugh sprite.

“a lawyer AND a comedian, HOW DROLL”

the royal guards weird me out a bit though. its those masks. I'm getting high lady gaga gives

lady gagaran

Apollo: better give her evidence to burn–– i mean, jog her memory with some evidence.

Ghost of hobo nick: future me!! stop this!! don’t you remember what always used to happen?!

SOJ Phoenix: DOOOHOOOHOOO WE GOT HER NOW, APOLLO!

...........that worked

....no it didn’t. just spring you damn trap already, gagaran.

Apollo: Hm better not tell the people, that could stir up the revolution and actually make it happen. Especially since there might be REAL terrorists hiding out there, just waiting until someone goes, “Hey, that dead queen isn’t really dead!!”

lol

something went wrong?? no way

“Eeeek! Apollo! Don’t strip here!!!”

why is athena such a ditz in this case???

I HEARD A BELT

wow. apollo’s ass canonically bared in AA6

klavier gavin cries a million miles away

“HE WASN’T HIDING THE BULKY ASS ORB IN HIS CLOTHING, YOUR EMINENCE”

“damn i really thought he was hiding it in his skintight pants and vest. also ignore the other two, they couldn’t possibly have it.”

oh lord pls don’t hurt rayfa

“Your mind has been poisoned by the barbed one.”

“It was an honour and pleasure, your eminence”

phoenix i know that was highly badass and all but youre literally sitting pretty to be executed

“”””discipline””””

“Well, Apollo, let’s head back to the safe house for now.”

yes, just in case any spies follow us! so that the queen can get her hands on the orb that much fast!!

oh hi edgeworht, youre in this game

WOO YOU TELL’EM EDGEY

DOWN WITH PLUMED PUNISHER!! DOWN WITH PLUMED PUNISHER!! DOWN WITH PLUMED PUNISHER!!

“Moving along to things that actually matter...”

it’s true, but he shouldn’t say it

“Yeah, it’s like the more we learn about this case, the less we understand.”

just like me and this game’s writing process

“A trial without evidence...”

there’s evidence, you wankers, what do you think that photo of amara, the old case files and the necklace are????

“Athena, you’re too young and extra to die. Sit this trial out so we can save on sprite space.”

“Gotcha, chief.”

“Plus, there’s prosecutor Blackquill to think of. he said he’d use me for sword practice if he put you in harms way.”

Yeah, if Athena dies, who’ll his new punching bag be??? don’t think i haven’t forgotten story teller. i will not forget. i will not forgive.

“Remember; the worst of times are when lawyers have to force their biggest smiles.”

ugh, finally it’s used semi right.

And so, we come to the end of another frustrating chapter. It’s finally time to move on to the final trial. I’m actually kind of curious to find out how everything went down– though something tells me my suffering won’t end when i do.

Welp, friends – till next time. The final hurdle is at hand. Or at least, part one of it.

#sulking over SOJ #ooc #we're almost done... just the final trial still to go...]#spirit of justice spoilers #soj spoilers

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walterfilmmemorabilia-blog · 5 years ago

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8 Great Black Jazz Musicians

BY BILL REED

In the first half of the 20th Century these eight, great black jazz musicians, who helped to create one of America’s unique contributions to the musical canon, come alive in the wonderful posters, photographs and promotional pieces that are part of Walter Films’ collection of African Americana. Jazz, a music genre that originated in the African American community, is known for its soulfulness and complex musical variations.

MILES DAVIS

BACKGROUND

One of the greats in the pantheon of African Americana is Miles Davis (seen above). Davis picked up the trumpet at age 13. Before it was all over, he’d won just about every honor and glory a jazz musician can achieve, including six Grammys and numerous best-selling albums. The Grammy Hall of Fame inducted ten of his releases, including 1949’s Birth of the Cool, and, from a decade later, Kind of Blue. *

The groundwork above and much more was laid down when, in 1944, he relocated to New York City. He soon became part of the wellspring of the new jazz sound, known as be-bop. His contemporaries included the likes of bandleader Billy Eckstine, alto sax giant Charlie Parker and trumpeter Dizzy Gillespie.

Before long, Davis became well-known enough to start up his own small music group. It included name musicians, like Sonny Rollins and Art Blakey. Its descriptive title . . . “The New Sounds.”

ON THE WAY UP

In rapid order came two record contracts. The first was with the noteworthy Prestige outfit, followed by a mainstream affiliation with none other than one of THE big three record labels, Columbia.

THE “IG TIME

There are far too many highpoints to address here; however, two of which cry out are the album Kind of Blue (1959), which became the most significant selling jazz album of its day, and the Miles Davis- [arranger] Gil Evans big band trilogy: Miles Ahead, Porgy and Bess and Sketches of Spain. One of his major European engagements included a period of early ‘50s residency in France where he was awarded the rubbed shoulders with the likes of Jean Cocteau, and conducted an affair with singer Juliette Greco.

FINAL DAYS

Davis’ later years were filled with many health issues resulting in the musician’s death at the relatively young age of 65. Inasmuch as this WalterFilm photo of Davis does not seem to appear in other known jazz collections, it should be regarded as rare.

SARAH VAUGHAN

TWO LEGS UP

No doubt about it. The numbers one and two female jazz vocalists in the golden age of the art form were Ella, Fitzgerald and Sarah Vaughan. Three-quarters of a century later, that still — more or less — holds true.

Along the way, there were many memorable recordings, and the winning of countless awards, including four Grammys.

Though Sarah came along a decade-or-so later after Ella, like “First Lady of Song” Fitzgerald, she got a head start by winning the historic talent contest at Harlem’s Apollo Theater.

One of her very earliest sides, “Lover Man,“ (1945) found her backed by Charlie “Bird” Parker (also in this WalterFilm collection) and Dizzy Gillespie. Several decades later, France’s Michel Legrand made a recording with Vaughan. He remarked of her, “She sings from the stars.”

Not long after completing her final recording in 1990, “Sassy,” as Vaughan was lovingly nick-named, passed away.

DUKE ELLINGTON

There is little question that Duke Ellington was the most famous, respected, charming, talented, elegant figures of the jazz musician and “beyond category” a definition oft-used to describe him.

The elegance of this WalterFilm poster gives some sense of how much admiration his label, Victor, accorded him. The Master had been primarily with that label from 1924 onward, with stops along the way at Columbia, Capitol, and Bethlehem records.

Flash forward to the end of his life (in 1974), and Ellington had created music for just about every form of show business, including theatre and film.

The Duke once claimed that the only reason he kept his band together was so that he could hear what his imaginary musical notes on paper sounded like in real-time. A hang-up for which we, his listeners, are eternally grateful.

This retail store advertisement (above) does not appear to have been recycled into any other Victor placement, i.e. catalogs, record jackets, etc., which would make it doubly rare.

NANCY WILSON

RIGHT OUT OF THE STARTING GATE

Born in Ohio, jazz vocalist Nancy Wilson, after much performance time on the road, arrived in New York City in 1960. She soon signed with Capitol Records. Right off, she had the good fortune to record with the label’s stars Cannonball Adderley and George Shearing. Both recordings were hits. It probably helped in marketing Wilson that she was exceptionally attractive.

Wilson would have a successful career with Capitol, lasting from that start in ‘60 to 1971. She would also have success on TV–with her own show, in nightclubs, jazz festivals, etc. Her honors were many, including multiple Grammys and the Martin Luther King Jr. Center for Nonviolent Social Change. She continued to perform and record with other labels until 2011. It was then that she remarked: “I’m not going to be doing it anymore, and what better place to end it than where I started, in Ohio” –– her last professional engagement. She died in 2018.

CHARLES MINGUS

VERSATILITY PERSONIFIED

It was a long row to hoe for this master musician, from the ‘40s L.A. Central Avenue Swing-to-Bop crossover scene. Eventually, however, he could be found starring at the likes of major Japan concert halls. In 1971, he even recorded an album while performing there.

TRACKS RECORD

Mingus had first recorded in the early 1940s. The overall sound was much like swing stars of that era, such as Benny Goodman. However, a Mingus 78 rpm disc from just a few years finds this player/composer/arranger thoroughly ensconced in the bubbling bop cauldron.

Later in his career, Mingus could be found versatile enough to be performing with players from any era. An example: an early Sixties trio of Mingus, vibist Red Norvo and guitarist Tal Farlow.

WAY TOO SOON

Although Mingus died at 56, his name remains high on the list of jazz greats. Two major documentaries attest to this.

MUSICAL INTEGRATION

In addition to his significant seven-decades-long career as a jazz musician, bandleader, vibes player, African-American Lionel Hampton (1908-2002) is also remembered for another undertaking. In 1936 he helped Benny Goodman tear down the walls between white and black musicians in “live” performances.

Years later, Hampton observed: “The Benny Goodman Quartet made it possible for Jackie Robinson to get into major league baseball. This was such an important development that we just cannot fluff it off or forget about it.”

This re-formatted groundbreaking Goodman Quartet would end up playing at the likes of the Waldorf-Astoria.

Of interest is the number of awards Hampton received along the way, including the National Medal of Arts and several Honorary Doctorates.

Somewhat ironically, Hampton’s big band ended up lasting even longer than Goodman’s. It has the distinction of giving jazz vocal stars Betty Carter and Little Jimmy Scott their first big.

CHARLIE PARKER

FAST FORWARD

Starting in the mid-Thirties, alto saxophonist Carlie Parker found himself inspired by the swing era likes of Ellington and Basie. But not for long. It would not be stressing things too much in calling this Kansas City, Missourian, “the man who invented modern jazz.”

Parker has received numerous forms of tribute, including documentaries, biographies, and stage productions, with one of the most well-regarded being the big screen docudrama, Clint Eastwood’s Bird.

As noted in the description of the press kit herein for director Clint Eastwood’s daring work, the film “remains one of the few classic movies about jazz.”

Sadly, Parker dies at the implausibly early age of 34. One can only wonder how he would have developed artistically if he had been given more time. Parker is a prime example of The Good Die Young.

COUNT BASIE

ON THE T.O.B.A *

Starting in show business, pianist Count Basie worked as a back-up player on the historic black vaudeville circuit, the Theater Owners Booking Association *. Eventually, these musical meanderings landed him in Kansas City, Missouri. It was there, in 1935, that he founded his first big band, which would endure for the next half-century.

Basie didn’t leave his Jersey home (and place of birth) entirely behind; he would become widely known as “The Kid from Red Bank.” It stuck with him for the rest of his life.

However, a few of the noteworthy Basie instrumentalists and singers who gained early-on professional experience include Lester Young and Freddie Green, and songsters, Joe Williams and Jimmy Rushing.

The Count was especially popular with Jewish comedians, namely Jerry Lewis (Cinderfella) and Mel Brooks (Blazing Saddles).

WALTER FILM’S AFRICAN AMERICANA COLLECTION

WalterFilm.com offers a range of African-American Cultural History that celebrates the achievements of black actors, black artists, black musicians, black athletes, black politicians, and other members of this country’s African-American Community. To see the extensive vintage original collection click on this link; African-American Collectibles and Black Memorabilia,

OUR GUEST AUTHOR

BILL REED

Bill Reed is a journalist and writer whose articles on show business, the arts, and popular music have appeared in a wide variety of publications, including Rolling Stone, the San Francisco Examiner, International Documentary, and Japan’s Swing Journal. Among his books are: Hot from Harlem: Profiles in Classic African-American Entertainment, Brains as Well as Feet, Early Plastic: A Memoir, and Shared Air: My Six-Decade Interface With Celebrity. He as also worked as a video jack-of-all-trades for the Criterion Collection, and produced many jazz recordings for SSJ Records, Japan. More: https//musicians.allaboutjazz.com/billreed

Blog is originally published at: https://www.walterfilm.com/8-great-black-jazz-musicians/

It is republished with permission from the author.

#jazz #jazz musicians #collectibles

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whatordertowatchthemarvelmoviess · 6 years ago

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The Marvel of Space Flight! A Visit to the Kennedy Space Center

Amid the turmoil of the turbulent 1960's, one of the most exciting and positive events I fondly remember was watching the live early morning rocket launches from Cape Canaveral. Huddled around our livingroom, our family's eyes were glued to the black and white Philco television set, in breathtaking silence as the rocket boosters spewed copious clouds of white smoke that engulfed the launch pad, before the Saturn V rocket finally lifted off the pad and into space. Those early years of the space race were heady ones, filled with exuberance and a hope for a bright tomorrow. The future of the NASA (National Aeronautics and Space Administration) space program promised to free mankind from the confines of our troubled planet earth, once and for all.

A visit to Florida wouldn't be complete if it didn't include a visit to to Merritt Island and the home of the John F. Kennedy Space Center. This historical island, about six times the size of Manhattan, encompasses 140,000 acres, bordered by the Intra-Coastal Waterway on the west and the Atlantic Ocean on the east. It is home to NASA, where space technology integrates with the surrounding wildlife habitat.

Parking is free at the Kennedy Space Center Visitor Complex, and I chose the standard ticket (currently $38.00 for adults and $28.00 for children 3 - 11 years old) that included the bus tour that runs throughout the day.

I first checked out the Rocket Garden with examples of early Redstone rockets, propulsion systems, guidance systems and technology as new discoveries advanced NASA's scientists to develop tools and equipment to enable astronauts to probe further and for longer periods of time into the new frontier of space.

After that I boarded one of the sleek tour buses and watched a video monitor as the tour guide gave us instructions as to when to watch and when to look out the bus window. The retired gentleman at the wheel also pointed out interesting things to us as we traveled through the natural reserve. We passed by a lazy alligator languishing in a drainage ditch.

Once our bus neared the Vehicle Assembly Building (VAB), which is the second largest building in the world per volume, the driver pointed out the enormous specialty crawler that transports the space shuttle and rocket to the launch pad. At one mile per hour, it creeps along on a unique gravel road bed designed to bear the combined earth crunching weight of the crawler and orbiter.

"I wonder what's going on here," remarked the bus driver as we observed employees gathered in groups sitting along the roadway. "I've never seen this before," he remarked with a note of concern in his voice. "Something must have happened." We discovered later that there had been a small fire inside the VAB and everyone was evacuated.

Our first stop was in front of the LC-39 Observation Gantry. The second floor vantage point allowed us panoramic views of the two space shuttle pads 39A and 39B. They were still quite a distance away, for safety's sake, separated by indigenous forest. The gantry also offered a bird's eye view of the VAB and Crawlerway. Once on the main floor, I joined others for a historical video about the Kennedy Space Center.

I hopped on another bus that took me along with a group of young students to the Apollo/Saturn V Center. It was here that the 'wow factor' came into play. Seeing the awesomely huge Saturn V rocket, even measured by today's advanced technology, is still the most complex device made by man! It dwarfed anything man made that I had ever encountered. Simply amazing! This completely restored example was first shown to the public in 1995. A model of the Lunar Rover is also on display here.

The doors opened to the adjacent room and there before us was the actual Apollo 11 Control Center, with details like tee shirts and jackets draped over the chairs, from the various contractors and suppliers like Boeing, IBM, etc. right to the same white ceramic tiles on the floor. Everyone was in reverent silence as the soundtrack played synchronizing with a colored light display that lit the affected command center areas, realistically depicting the events that took place that July day in 1969 when that historic launch that propelled Apollo 11 to the moon. That world landmark event that would result in the first men to walk on the surface of the moon. It was the fulfillment of the daunting promise of President John Kennedy to land a man on the moon by the end of the decade. The vivid memory of that hot July day when Neil Armstrong stepped off the ladder of the lunar module onto the soft blanket of fine dust of the moon's surface is permanently etched in the memory banks of my mind.

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watchthemarvelmovies · 6 years ago

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The Marvel of Space Flight! A Visit to the Kennedy Space Center

Snapping back to reality, our tour group shuffled our way to the theater. In the comfort

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blackkudos · 8 years ago

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Otis Blackwell

Otis Blackwell (February 16, 1931 – May 6, 2002) was an African-American songwriter, singer, and pianist, whose work significantly influenced rock and roll. His compositions include Little Willie John's "Fever", Jerry Lee Lewis' "Great Balls of Fire" and "Breathless", Elvis Presley's "Don't Be Cruel", "All Shook Up" and "Return to Sender" (with Winfield Scott), and Jimmy Jones' "Handy Man". He should not be confused with another songwriter and producer Robert "Bumps" Blackwell.

Biography

Otis Blackwell was born in Brooklyn, New York, United States, and died in Nashville, Tennessee. He learned piano as a child and grew up listening to both R&B and country music.

He first became famous by winning a local talent contest ("Amateur Night") at the Apollo Theater, Harlem, New York in 1952, led to a recording contract with RCA and then with Jay-Dee. His first release was his own composition "Daddy Rolling Stone" which became a favorite in Jamaica where it was recorded by Derek Martin. The song later became part of The Who's Mod repertoire. Enjoying some early recording and performing success, he found his first love was songwriting and by 1955 had settled into the groove that he would ride for decades. His first successes came in 1956 when Little Willie John's R&B hit with the sultry "Fever" was an even bigger pop success for Peggy Lee. Then, "Don't Be Cruel" began a highly profitable association with Elvis Presley.

Blackwell was one of the leading African American figures of early rock 'n' roll, although he was not well known by the public. His own records never cracked the Top 40, yet he wrote million-selling songs for Elvis Presley, Jerry Lee Lewis, Dee Clark and others. He also recruited other songwriters to write for Presley such as Winfield Scott.

From the jacket liner notes of the Elvis' Golden Records (1958) Anne Fulchino from Radio Corporation of America wrote:

"While sipping coffee, Steve Sholes pulled out a demonstration record of "Don't Be Cruel" and told Elvis it was a new song written by Otis Blackwell, whom Elvis had long admired as a rhythm and blues artist. It took just a few bars to convince Presley that it was a perfect song for him, and he decided to cut it right away. Presley learned the song within minutes—he has an inherent musical sense—and in short order a great master was put on tape. It isn't often that the title of a song will create a whole new expression in Americana. "All Shook Up" did exactly that. Youngsters and adults alike have made the phrase a common part of everyday usage. The background to the song itself is a rather interesting one. Since the huge success of "Don't Be Cruel", Elvis had been anxious to record another song from the pen of Otis Blackwell. Eventually, Blackwell came around with "All Shook Up (first recorded by David Hill on Aladdin) ." Presley wasn't completely satisfied with the song, and with Blackwell's consent re-wrote part of the lyrics. Thus, as co-writer as well as artist, Presley produced his ninth consecutive gold record, his first in the year 1957."

During an appearance on "Late Night with David Letterman," Blackwell said he'd never met Presley in person. When he was having a contract dispute with his publishing company, he also wrote under the white-sounding pen-name of "John Davenport", Throughout his lifetime, Blackwell composed more than a thousand songs, garnering worldwide sales of close to 200 million records. Colonel Tom Parker, manager of Elvis asked Otis to appear in the Presley movie Girls! Girls! Girls!, for which he had written "Return to Sender," but the superstition about meeting Elvis kept him from accepting.

In 1956 Blackwell first gave "Don't Be Cruel" to friend Frankie Valli's group The Four Lovers but as they were recording it he asked to take it back and in turn gave it to an up-and-coming Elvis Presley. In exchange for this song he gave them "You're The Apple Of My Eye" which became a chart hit for the Four Lovers (Billboard #64). The song was performed on the Ed Sullivan show that same year and was probably instrumental in at least shaping events for the group to eventually becoming The Four Seasons. A shortened version of "You're The Apple Of My Eye" is also featured in the Broadway show "Jersey Boys".

As the tide of rock 'n' roll receded, Blackwell recorded R&B material for numerous labels including Atlantic, MGM and Epic. In later years he was in semi-retirement, making only occasional live appearances. Otis Blackwell is the grandfather of Torian Brown.

During the 1980s, Blackwell toured and recorded with The Smithereens as his backing band for both live shows and studio recordings.The partnership produced two self-funded albums, "Let's Talk About Us" and "From The Beginning," which were released independently on Blackwell's ROC-CO imprint.

In 1991, Blackwell was left paralyzed by a stroke. Three years later, Shanachie released Brace Yourself! A Tribute to Otis Blackwell. The album features 15 Blackwell-penned tracks recorded by the likes of Kris Kristofferson ("All Shook Up"), Blondie's Debbie Harry ("Don't Be Cruel"), The Smithereens ("Let's Talk About Us"), Graham Parker ("Paralyzed"), and Ronnie Spector ("Brace Yourself"). Otis Blackwell died in 2002 of a heart attack and was interred in Woodlawn Memorial Park Cemetery in Nashville, Tennessee.

Awards and recognitions

Otis Blackwell was inducted into the Nashville Songwriters Hall of Fame in 1986 and in 1991 into the National Academy of Popular Music's Songwriters Hall of Fame. Blackwell's crowning moment came in the late 1980s when the Black Rock Coalition, a prominent organization of black rock musicians, led by Vernon Reid, the lead guitarist of the band, Living Colour, held a tribute for him at the Prospect Park Bandshell in his native Brooklyn. Many prominent musicians and singers took part including Blackwell himself, who performed an assortment of his best songs, including "One Broken Heart for Sale," "Black Trail," "Don't Be Cruel" and "Daddy Rolling Stone."

Blackwell was named one of the 2010 recipients of Ahmet Ertegun Award in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. This category encompasses those who primarily work behind the scenes in the music industry.

Legacy

Otis Blackwell was one of the greatest R&B songwriters of all time. His songwriting style is as uniquely identifiable as that of Leiber and Stoller, Chuck Berry, or Willie Dixon and helped redefine popular music in America in the 1950s. This is true even though he often collaborated with such partners as Winfield Scott, Eddie Cooley, and Jack Hammer. Blackwell was one of the most important innovators who helped invent the musical vocabulary of rock & roll at its very beginning. Blackwell's works have been recorded into immortality by a host of other major figures in the record field, including Elvis Presley, Jerry Lee Lewis, Ray Charles, Otis Redding, James Brown, The Who, Johnny Thunders, Billy Joel, James Taylor, Dolly Parton, Conway Twitty, The Judds, Carl Perkins and Peggy Lee, among numerous others. At other times in his career, Blackwell has also been successful as a record producer, having helped turn out hits with artists as diverse as Connie Francis, Mahalia Jackson and Sal Mineo.

Songs

Songs he composed, with the performer who made them famous, include:

"All Shook Up" (Elvis Presley)

"Don't Be Cruel" (Elvis Presley); inducted in the Grammy Hall of Fame in 2002

"Fever" as "John Davenport" with Eddie Cooley (Peggy Lee inducted in the Grammy Hall of Fame in 1998, Little Willie John, Madonna, The McCoys, Elvis Presley, Bob Dylan, Over the Rhine, and countless other performers).

"Great Balls of Fire" (Jerry Lee Lewis); inducted in the Grammy Hall of Fame in 1998

"Breathless" (Jerry Lee Lewis and X)

"Hey Little Girl" (Dee Clark)

"Handy Man" (Jimmy Jones, Del Shannon, James Taylor)

"Return to Sender" (Elvis Presley)

"One Broken Heart for Sale"(Elvis Presley)

Wikipedia

#Otis Blackwell

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alexandersimonmartinezstyle · 7 years ago

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Diadora, back the B. Elite sneakers loved in the 80s

To present the P / E 2018 collection, the sports brand, which this year celebrates its 70th anniversary, has involved young and talented artists and influencers Passion, authenticity, audacity. These are the values that represent the “crew” made up of interesting and promising young creative talents of the moment, chosen by the Diadora brand for the new Powered by Defiance campaign. Joan Thiele, Federica Abbate, Felipe Conceicão, Valentina Pegorer, Jack Saunders, Yxng Bane, all under 25, are the protagonists of the new project born to tell the spirit of the collection for spring/summer 2018; a group that reflects the values of the brand as the desire to get involved, the dynamism, the tenacity, the adventurous spirit and the optimistic gaze towards the future. All the guys were proud to wear the iconic sports models of the legends of the past that today come back to the fore in a modern way to interpret the latest trends in street fashion. Among these, the most loved shoe among those signed Diadora: the B. Elite, once worn by the most famous tennis players of all time and today at the feet of new generations. The model retains the shape that made it famous, but returns to office with new colors and options in the B.Elite L. As for the clothing items, the proposal is really wide and very cool. The streetstyle collection in fact is inspired by the ’80s, back in fashion in style, and offers garments like the track jacket or the polycotton overalls revisited and characterized by truly captivating colors and details. The retro style of the past glories of tennis merge with research and stylistic innovation to create a truly original and exciting collection that has also won the protagonists of the POWERED BY DEFIANCE project. We met some of them to get to know them better. Valentina Pegorer – Born in 1990 in Milan, she is fascinated by dancing, television and acting since she was a child. After having participated in several advertisements as a child, she worked at Deejay TV and joined Claudio Bisio and Frank Matano in “The Comedians”. The fame comes, however, thanks to Beijing Express where in 2017 wins in pairs with Ema Stokholma. She would like to conduct new types of programs in the future to be able to “modernize” today’s TV. What do you like most about Milan? In Italy, in my opinion, it is the most projected city in the future and unlike London, where I lived for a while, it is less confusing. My favorite places are The Prada Foundation, the Bicocca Hangar and the Apollo Club. What relationship do you have with social networks? I follow them directly and I like to post photos, but only when I feel like it. I do not have to feel it as an obligation. Are you a sportswoman? I practice yoga, climbing and I love running. With the dance I was confronted during the participation in the program “Dance Dance Dance 2” and this experience has shaped me a lot. Above all, he taught me the value of constancy. Even when I do not practice sport I love being comfortable and almost always wearing sneakers. I have a lot of them and my favorites are those high and bright colors. Jack Saunders – London, began his radio tour with Fly FM, the student radio of Nottingham Trent University. In the summer of 2014 he joined Kerrang! Radio then moved to Radio X in 2015. Every month he organizes an evening of music called Hopscotch and invites some of the most interesting emerging bands to perform at The Social, in central London. The event has attracted the attention of prestigious magazines such as The Times, Guardian and Music Week and is fast becoming a highlight for new bands in search of visibility. In 2017, Jack collaborated with MTV and presented the UK Blog Awards. Your biggest satisfaction? Having brought several youth bands to the fore. Their success makes me really happy. What are your artistic dreams? I would like to become one of the greatest talent discoverers internationally. At the moment I’m not interested in becoming a record producer, I just want to hunt for talent. The dive city would you like to live? I would like to live in Australia in the future. Where the environment, from the radio point of view, is similar to that of England, but the climate is quite another thing. London is really too messed up! What types of garments do you prefer to wear? I love the leaders of the English street culture of the 90s. In particular, the jackets with zip as the track jacket by Diadora, a cult among the boys of the time that in recent years is back in fashion. Felipe Conceicão – Genoese Vlogger, is one of the emerging stars of video production in Italy. Passionate about music and computer science from an early age, he makes the first video at 17 and is noticed thanks to Youtube. Among his latest works, the direction of the video clip “New generation kids” by Luca Cikovani, photography of the latest video of Benji and Faith “Love Wii-fi” and that of Leo Stannard feat. Chiara Galiazzo “Gravity”. What relationship do you have with sport? I’m not a very sporty type even though I find it important to dedicate time to one’s physical well-being as well as one’s own passions and intellect activities. On the other hand, my favorite style is sportswear. Do you love to travel? Where would you like to live? I like traveling the world but do not leave for short trips. I like to stay in a place to really understand the culture, the customs and the way of thinking of the people who live there. Currently I moved from Genoa to Milan but one day I would like to live in Los Angeles. What are your future goals? I would like to become a successful director and give life to science fiction films or TV series that intertwine with the real world. Yxng Bane – British rapper, grew up in Custom House, a district in the London borough of Newham. At 19 he is noted with the piece “Lone Wolf” published on Soundcloud. After collaborating with Yungen for “Bestie”, he launches “Fine Wine” feat. Kojo Funds and part for a long tour that sold out in different locations, including Dubai and Ibiza. With “Rihanna” he enters the top 40 of the United Kingdom last year and gets great visibility. Ed Sheeran complimented his cover of “Shape of you” which has depopulated on the web and currently has 16 million views. Have you always wanted to sing? In my family, music has always occupied an important place. At the beginning I only had fun doing remixes and only two years ago I discovered a passion for singing. Are you hyper-connected? Do you personally follow your social profiles? Before making music the social world did not interest me in the least, then I was forced to use the various Facebook, Instagram, etc .. to give visibility to my work and now I have a manager who takes care of it. But I have a good relationship with my followers and I’m happy to tell me about them. Are you a sporty type? What are your favorite items? Years ago I played football and basketball, now I do a lot less sport but I’m always on the move. I love the suits and for the Diadora campaign I chose to wear the track jacket with white and black zip with gold logo. A perfect match with my golden necklaces. Article taken from https://www.gqitalia.it/moda/trend/new/2018/03/20/diadora-tornano-le-sneakers-b-elite-amate-negli-anni-80/#!#%2Ffullscreen%2F0%2F1%2F

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