#which to me is a bit on the nose bc if ares is one who binds him why is hephaestus not the other? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lxiewrites · 5 years ago

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Capture the Flag

The complete fic of the PJO au from klance au month

also tumblr decided to take out most if not p much all my italics but i’m too lazy to put them allll back in bc I’m an italics ho and there would be a lot

Ao3

Lance scrutinized the stance of the baby warrior in front of him. Circling around the young half-blood he kicked her right foot farther behind her. “You would have a better center of balance if you place your right foot here—you're right-handed right?”

She adjusted her stance and nodded, gripping her sword tighter in her fist, hand shaking a bit with effort. Lance bit down a sympathetic smile. She was a fresh camper; just dropped off by a satyr a few days ago. He could see the embarrassed flush on her cheeks and her eyes darting to the other campers practicing their sword fighting.

“Okay, so loosen your grip a bit. That much tension ends up straining the tendons in your elbow for whatever reason, trust me.” He scooped his sword up from the dusty ground next to her and took his stance. “Okay, let’s start with the basic attack.”

They took a step in sync, swiping their swords down with one hand slicing the air in front of them. Nadia blocked her invisible opponent with her wooden shield while Lance brought his sword up in a block. Together they sliced down once again, the air whooshing at the speed. Stepping back into formation Lance turned to his pupil with a big grin. “Good! With enough practice you’ll be beating flying pigs and hellhounds.”

Nadia offered him a small smile before biting her lip. Dropping her sword, point down, into the dirt she asked, “Could I just… skip capture the flag tonight?”

He wrapped an arm around her slight shoulders. “Sorry, kid, Coran says the best teacher is experience. And our cabin is leading this time. Our own members can’t just sit out!”

“But--!” Nadia objected, gesturing helplessly to Lucas and Katy painting each others nails off to the side of the arena. One or two more of the others dropped off from practicing and went to relax and gossip in the shade, only a few still sparring on the field.

Lance ran a hand through his hair to cup the back of his neck, sheepishly smiling at the baffled twelve-year-old. “Okay, so they’re more lovers than fighters. We’re a work in progress; sue me. But I got a feeling about you, Nadia. We’re Aphrodite cabin, we can go to fight just like anyone else, we just look better doing it.” He winked to punctuate his statement but she still looked skeptical. Finally he rolled his eyes, “Fine,I got Hecate cabin, Demeter, Athena, and the Apollo kids. And,” he said, raising his voice to be heard across the entire arena, catching the attention from their other cabin members. “If we win I’ll treat everyone to a spa day with my special face masks.”

When the clang of swords resumed, enough that they echoed around them, he snickered, not noticing the person that crept up behind him.

“So that’s how you get your team motivated. Bribery.”

Startled, Lance yelped as he spun around, shoving Nadia behind him, sword at the ready. His sword clanged against a familiar knife that extended into a sword, the dull side barely grazing his cheek.

Lance smirked, dropping his sword and smoothly ducking under Keith’s, bringing him in very close to the son of Ares. Close enough he could smell cedar and smoke from the offering fire. “You’re just jealous you can’t get your cabin to be a team on anything.”

Raising a brow Keith looked around the arena, probably taking in every flaw, every sloppy stance or messy attack. “At least my cabin can fight.”

Frowning, Lance crossed his arms. He debated firing back, saying that they’re doing their best or even taking a jab at Keith’s cabin. Instead he stepped aside, out of Keith’s space, to introduce his new recruit.

“Keith, meet Nadia of Aphrodite cabin. Nadia, this is Keith, head of Ares cabin.”

Lance watched how Keith’s stance softened, the corners of his mouth quirking up in a small smile. Biting down hard on his lips Lance forcibly turned to watch Nadia tentatively shake Keith’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Keith nodded, respectfully and still stupidly soft. “You too, Nadia.”

Clearing his throat Lance jerked his head towards Virgil who was getting disarmed way too many times in a row. “Hey, Nadia, why don’t you go over there and spar with Virg?”

Nadia’s hazel eyes darted from one head counselor to another before scurrying off to the struggling thirteen-year-old.

Watching her go, pointedly not looking at the other counselor Lance asked, “So, have you come here to check out the competition, Kogane?”

“Something like that,” Keith murmured.

Heat flushing through him, Lance bit down on his lip. He willed his cheeks to cool, unprepared for Keith’s answer. They’ve known each other for four years. They went on their first quest together, fought together, bickered, picked strawberries, did all the stupid camp activities dangerous and mundane. They didn’t do this! They didn’t… flirt. They fought, they pushed, they challenged each other. Ever since they went on their last quest to retrieve his mom’s girdle—which was really just a fancy belt that shifted to an accessory that would compliment the wearer’s outfit, kinda lame—Keith’s been… flirty.

And it’s not in Lance’s head! He’s the son of the goddess of love and beauty he knows when someone’s flirting! And furthermore, he knew Keith. He knows when Keith is being flirty, which is so subtle he normally won’t notice but—

He knows. It’s exactly like that time he was flirting with this one guy two years ago when they were going to fix whatever was happening with Iris. Gods he was so annoying, always ”mission first, Lance” and the first guy to show interest in him and he’s all ”Oh, I like your weapon” “that’s a cool knife”.

And recently he’s been looking for him for help with strategies against other cabins or partnering up with him. Somehow their stupid fights seem more lingering, softer, the rough edges sanded down to a fine grain like the beaches back home. Where Lance can’t help but stay and run his fingers over it in fascination.

And he has no idea how to handle it.

Face, unfortunately still hot, Lance said, “Well, you better watch your back, Keith. ‘Cuz Ares cabin is going down.”

Keith scoffed, eyes twinkling, “Maybe you should worry less on Ares cabin and more on your own.”

“Oh, my cabin is great. We’re a well-oiled machine. We got everything down to a science.”Lance ignored the fact he could see some of his siblings in the corner of his eye, stopping to look at them. Lucas and Katy whispering to each other and snickering. “We’re gonna whoop your ass, and I’m going to gloat it over you until the end of the summer.”

“Sure, Lance.”

“Hey, once upon a time Aphrodite was worshipped as a war goddess as well as love. Don’t underestimate us. Aphrodite cabin is gonna whoop your ass!” Behind him there was a weak cheer from his siblings and Lance had to restrain a sigh.

“Sounds like a lotta talk.”

Okay, he’s had it up to here with him. “I bet you that we whoop your butt!”

Keith paused, giving Lance enough time to hear what he just came out of his godsdamned mouth and regret. “Okay,” Keith drawled, “it’s a bet.”

“Fine! What’s the bet?”

Keith shrugged, the obnoxious orange T-shirt stretching over his shoulders. “I don’t know. I’ll think of something later.” Smirking, Keith started towards the exit, calling out, “Good luck with the troops, Lance!”

When he disappeared Lance buried his face in his hands, groaning in them.

From the side he could hear Katy shout, “Does this mean no face masks?”

Lance sighed as he adjourned the meeting with the other head counselors. Many were skeptical when he proposed the strategy to them, Pidge kept interjecting with other strategies—those Athena kids are such know-it-alls—but he was insistent.

He knew Keith and he knew how he worked. Impulsive, direct, but crafty and a quick adaptable thinker. He might play at strategy for a while but it won’t last long until he rushes in.

Lance has faith in his team. They might be outnumbered and facing against the kids of the god of war but they got this! They totally got this! Keith might have the numbers and strength but Lance and his ragtag group got the razzle-dazzle!

He made his way to the mess hall to devote some more garlic knots to his mom for some divine luck in capture the flag. He had full faith in his team but some godly help couldn’t hurt.

At the mess hall, he made the rounds from table to table, not staying too long for Coran to start pointedly clearing his throat. Most of the cabins he convinced to be on the side of love were because a) he was just that good or b) either they owed him a favor or he now owes them a favor. The only reason Hephaestus cabin was on Ares’s side was because Keith got to Hunk first damnit. And he saved his life during that fight with a giant pig but whatever.

He cornered his own cabin when Katy just got back from the offering fire. Bracing both hands on the table he looked at each member of his cabin in the eye. “You all know your roles?”

There seemed to be a simultaneous eye-roll across the table. Sophie waved her freshly manicured hand as if she was shooing a bug away. “Yes, yes, we all know what to do. Honestly, Lance, you’re way too into this game.”

Lucas snorted into his cup. “Oh, I don’t think it’s the game he’s into,” he said wagging his brows.

Giggles rose up around the table, each of his half-siblings chiming in at what that could possibly be. The only one not sticking their unwanted concealed nose into his love life was Nadia, who was a dear angel child who did not know what anyone was talking about.

Lance, face way too hot, closed his eyes and willed the blush from his face. Snatching a piece of garlic bread from Katy’s plate he chucked it at Lucas and hit him square between the brows. Lance turned to Nadia as Lucas was screeching about the grease and acne.

He looked into her hazel eyes and wiggled his brows, making her giggle. Crouching down he asked, “So, are you ready for capture the flag?”

She bit her lip, frowning so hard creases formed between her brows. “I don’t think I’ll be good at it.” She turned to look at him, eyes big and pleading, using every bit of what she inherited from their mother. “Do I have to play?”

Lance gave her a sympathetic smile, hand brushing her soft, brown hair from her face and tucking it up into her bun. “Unless you’re injured you gotta play, kid, Coran says.” At her silence he sighed and darted his eyes around, lowering his voice in a conspiratorial whisper he gestured for her to get closer. “Listen, I got a really important job for you during the capture the flag alright?”

At her nod he leaned in to whisper her directions, her shoulders relaxed and she even chuckled. Patting her on the shoulder he stood up. “All you gotta do is stick with Romelle and you should be fine.”

He gave the rest of his giggling siblings a look, using the universal signal for ‘I’m watching you’ by jabbing two fingers at all of them. “Remember. No face masks unless we win.”

After a chorus of boos he left, restraining himself to only stick his tongue out instead of flipping them off because there are children.

“Real mature for a head counselor.”

Lance, for the record, did not squeak. He yelped. A very manly yelp. “Keith! What are you doing here!”

Keith scrunched up his face, nose wrinkling like a little bunny instead of the son of a war god. “It’s…the mess hall?”

Lance felt his face heat, from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. Spluttering he grabbed Keith by the shoulders, turned him around, and shoved him out of the mess hall.

Now, Keith might be mostly made out of solid muscle but he’s also a seventeen-year-old boy and Lance had witnessed him try to talk to a squirrel because he thought it was a type of dyad. Lance, similarly, has been on nearly every one of Keith’s quests and has just as much muscle. Moving him was not an issue.

The issue was feeling that muscle under his hands. How easily Keith let Lance maneuver him when sometimes he didn’t move his stubborn butt even for Coran. How stupidly adorable his face is, all scrunched up and cute.

It made Lance’s stomach twist and sweat in uncomfortable places and that was the issue.

“Nope! Nope, nuh-uh, I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to steal our strategy! Not happening buster.”

Keith’s face slowly shifted from a confused bunny to a smug bastard. He tried to press his mouth in a line but Lance could see his smirk. Whenever Keith tried to not-smile he would get damning dimples on each of his cheeks. And there they were! Damning Lance to Tartarus.

At his glare Keith gave up, lips tilting into a full smirk, one dimple disappearing. “If you’re so worried maybe you should just give up now.”

Lance stabbed a finger in his smug, stupid face. “Oh, you would like that wouldn’t you? Just wait, you’re going to eat those words.”

“I guess we’ll just have to find out won’t we?”

Cheeks burning for no good reason Lance opened his mouth to say something… only to find he had no words. Just a burning face and a heart beating way too fast.

Normally, Keith would fight back, say something just as petty and childish as Lance. Now, he fights back in a way that Lance can’t? Instead of pushing back he gives in and flipping sneak attacks him leaving Lance flustered and burning.

Smirking, Keith patted Lance on the chest before brushing past him to the mess hall, leaving Lance gaping at him still trying to find his words.

Lance helped slide a chest plate over one of the younger Hecate kid’s heads, securing the straps nice and tight. With that done he tied a blue handkerchief around their arm in a neat knot. The kid beamed up at him before scampering off somewhere. Their smile a shade bloodthirsty but that’s what he wanted to see! Furious little warriors that will kick Keith’s butt!

“Are you sure you don’t want me on the front lines?” A voice wheedled behind him.

Lance tipped his head back and groaned to the gods. “For the last time Romelle, I need you to hang back.” Leaning forward he lowered his voice, “I really need you to watch Nadia.”

Romelle threw up her hands, a whining noise escaping. “You’re putting me on babysitting duty? What if you break a leg? If I’m with you I could swoop in and cast a healing spell! Or, or, boost you with extra speed or strength and save the day! Oh, oh!” Lance took three quick steps back when the daughter of Hecate’s hands flew up in excitement, magic crackling off her fingers. “I’ve been working on some offense spells and this levitation spell. If I get close enough to Keith I could just levitate him and bam!”

Lance silently prayed to the gods to shut the girl up. “Romelle, please just watch Nadia?” Lance widened his eyes and laid it on thick. “You’re the only one that I can trust to protect her.”

Her lip pushed out in a pout, huffing, she crossed her arms and turned away. “Fine. But you are wasting my talents.”

“And I will forever regret it.”

She rolled her eyes, popping out her hip and pinning him with a stare. “I know you’re mocking me but you will regret it. And when you lose against Keith you’ll have no one to blame but yourself and I will laugh.”

Lance huffed and spluttered before settling on a stilted laugh. ”Ha, ahahaha, ha. No. Because I will beat Keith because I know him better than anyone here and therefore know the best way to defeat him!”

“Yeah but doesn’t that mean that he knows how to defeat you?”

“W-well, in theory—“

“Which is why you should put me in front He’ll never see it coming!”

Irritation grated on Lance’s last nerve as she rambled on. He loved Romelle and she was a key player in his plan but by gods she was annoying to deal with sometimes. She was two years younger than him and just as annoying as he was then. To a point she reminded him of himself, except more cringe—but that might just be him.

“—In fact, you should bring me with you to keep you from getting distracted by your crush on Keith—“

“Woah, woah, no, wrong,” Lance interrupted, taking Romelle by the shoulders and physically turning her and walking her forward. “No, nope, there’s no crush and you have your position. Just stay with Nadia and make sure she stays out of trouble.”

“—But!”

Lance pushed her forward towards where Nadia was fumbling with her shoulder straps. “Bye!”

Ignoring her complains he turned on his heel and marched away. Romelle was a sweet kid with ideas too big for her brain, and some of them were completely ridiculous! Him? Letting a crush ruin this? Nah, this has been in the works since Keith first flattened him on his back the first day of training. Sure, the rivalry might have not been at the forefront, especially with the last few quests but it’s still there! And it will continue to be there until Lance beats Keith.

Crush or no crush he will defeat Keith Kogane.

Lance waited in the front of his troops, the point in a semi-angular formation. He could barely make out the speck of red in the distance. The enemy’s flag.

He swallowed, feeling stones in his throat, pressing, making it harder to breathe. Sweat beaded up under his armor as he waited for Coran to blow the whistle, making his orange T-shirt cling to his chest under his chest plate.

As he stared at his goal with his friends and allies behind him he could almost feel his heart rate calm. He had a rock solid plan and a secret weapon. He knew Keith inside and out. In fact, Keith was probably snapping at James or Rebecca for poking at his plans.

Today was the day he was finally going to prove, at least to himself, that he could keep up with Keith.

The whistle blew and he could feel his lungs expand with humid air as he and team shouted, charging into the forest.

Lance’s heart pounded in his chest as his team broke into groups. Each group disappearing in the foliage and leaving the sword-competent veteran kids in front.

He and the first line of defense battled through the first wave of campers, the red handkerchiefs fluttering like butterfly wings with each disarmed kid. He let Francesca of Athena’s cabin organize a small troop to tie them up, uncurling a length of rope from her enchanted fanny pack—which, normally, hideous, now, very useful.

Lance scanned the woods around them, so far no one in sight. He could hear the sounds of fighting in the distance, the clashing of swords and the dull thuds of weapons against shields. They couldn’t be more than a fourth of a mile away. His nose stung from the scent of smoke, someone—probably a Hephaestus kid—launching Greek fire at someone smoke rising off to the left of him.

“I’m going on ahead. Stand your ground here and wait for the archers to move up.”

Francesca didn’t look up from where she was tying up the other team. “Shall we proceed as normal or send reinforcements to—“ she nodded in the direction of the plume of black smoke.

Lance was already jogging ahead through the trees. “Send three of the archers over and go ahead!” he called over his shoulder.

Further away there was another explosion, more kids shouting in either fear or indignation. It seems like Keith didn’t waste time in bringing out the big guns. The quickest route is a straight line, after all.

He sprinted forward, uncaring to see if his group followed him, he was a man on a mission. Bursting through the trees and into a small clearing—that was smack dab in the middle way of the two flags—he shouted and brought his drawn sword down.

Another sword screeched against his as he stared right into the shocked eyes of Keith Kogane, close enough to see the whites of his eyes and the enlarged pupils surrounded by a galaxy of colors. They narrowed in concentration as he pushed against the sword. Lance smirking as he let him throw him off.

Keith didn’t look particularly surprised, maybe disgruntled at how Lance attacked first but not from his presence. Keith might be direct in his battle tactics but he was never one to search for glory for himself (something Lance learned about him after, oh, the fifth adventure he went on with him). He probably had another group headed for the flag but Lance wasn’t worried. They were fine.

Lance casually swung his sword around, twisting his wrist in what only looked like a complicated maneuver. “Surprised, Mullet? Thought I’d bring the fight to you this time.”

Keith lunged forward and swiped at Lance, making him dance back. Advancing, Keith slashed at Lance; his attacks practiced and smooth. Lance could barely keep up as he deflected each attack, each hit jolting his wrist making it ache.

Just as his back hit a tree he used his sword to guide Keith’s momentum from his swing to the tree trunk, his sword embedded into the bark above Lance’s head.

Keith panted, his chest heaving in his T-shirt, not even wearing any armor—the idiot. Sweat dripped from his temple and his eyes were lit up as a smile played at the corners of his mouth. “What fight?”

Lance felt his face screw up and his heart speed up as anger and adrenaline mixed in a dangerous cocktail in his chest. “Oh, screw you.”

And he punched Keith in the stomach.

Keith’s wheezed as his breath left him, hand slacking on the handle of his sword. Lance kicked his chest, pushing him away and losing his grip on the blade. Lance tore the blade from the tree and threw it on the ground in front of him, face hot and chest tight.

“I might not be the greatest half-blood of this generation but I’m just as good a fighter as you,” Lance gritted out, heart drumming against his breastbone.

“What?” Keith wheezed, reaching out to grab his sword, stumbling to a stand.

It took a minute for everything to catch up to him but when it did Lance felt the adrenaline dip down, leaving him shaky but there’s just enough for him to say what’s been bothering him.

“We have been on practically every quest together since we came here when we were twelve. You lead practically every quest, you’re the best fighter, you are… so hard to chase after. I just—“ Lance wanted to look away. He wanted to look away from the realization flickering across Keith’s face. He swallowed hard and kept his head up. “I just want you to take me seriously for once.”

“Lance,” Keith started, eyes scrunching up, nose wrinkling. “What are you talking about? I always take you seriously.”

Lance sighed, shoulders slumping. “Dude—“ He barely heard the whistling of air, his arm moving before he fully registered the action. His sword clanged against a familiar sword, diverting its path from his face.

“Dude! What the fuck?!” he shouted at Keith.

Keith was already on the move, running toward where Lance knocked his sword and scooping it up before running at him.

Lance blocked when Keith slashed down, the contact reverberating down his arm. They pushed against each other, swords sliding, the screech of metal on metal grating Lance’s ears.

“I always take you seriously,” Keith gritted out before dancing back on light feet. “Why do I always choose you to be on the quests with me?”

“I don’t know,” Lance snapped back, out of breath, stepping back in to swipe at Keith’s leg, barely nicking the fabric of his jeans when he dodged. “Because Coran told you to.”

“No you, dumbass.” They circled each other; eyes open for any opening in their defenses. Keith went on the offense, sprinting forward to aim at the vulnerable parts of Lance not covered by his breastplate.

Lance caught Keith’s sword with his own, locking them together and wrenching Keith’s sword out of his hand. Before he could swing his sword around Keith tackled him to the ground. Lance hit the ground hard, sword falling somewhere and the breath knocked out of him, making him wheeze.

Keith sitting on his stomach didn’t help him with the breathing situation. A hand was wrapped around his wrist and another on his shoulder, pinning him down. Lance gasped for breath, neck straining as Keith was haloed above him like some sort of godsdamned angel.

“I choose you,” he panted, “because you always have my back. I trust you.”

Keith’s expression was fierce. Brows furrowed and lips pressed in a firm line, ready to attack if Lance dared to disagree with him. His eyes were flitting over his face, searching, open.

The trick with Keith is that his scowly face and general grumpy body language only made him look like a closed book locked in a box in an underground safe. His eyes were what gives him away every time, which is why he never wins the poker nights with any of the Hermes kids. That and he sucked at lying.

Lance huffed out a laugh, head falling back to the ground with a soft thunk. He convinced himself for years that when he and Keith were equal then he’d be good enough. He spent so much time trying to convince himself and others that he was just as good as Keith when, apparently, Keith always thought he was.

Gods, he just… really liked him.

“Why are you laughing?” Keith demanded, “I’m being serious here.”

Lance quieted until he had a big, goofy grin stretched across his cheeks. Keith was still glaring at him from where he was sitting on his stomach. “I know you are.” He closed his eyes and groaned. “Gods, I’m so stupid.”

Keith’s mouth twisted like he ate a lemon. He eased the pressure on Lance’s wrist and shoulder, settling back onto the bone of his pelvis. “What was this about, Lance?”

“How about I tell you after I beat you?” Lance taunted, smirking up at him.

“I’m on top of you. I think that ship s—gah!”

Lance braced his feet against the ground, thrusting his pelvis up and jostling Keith into a tabletop position above him, his right arm still trapped but Keith’s left hand slipped to press into the dirt by Lance’s head. He used the opportunity to use his left arm to hug the one trapping his wrist at the elbow. Planting his left foot on the other side of the leg Keith has pressed against his side he pushed, toppling Keith over and landing between his thighs.

Keith was disoriented enough to allow Lance to swipe his sword from where it fell, hovering the blade above Keith’s throat.

Lance leaned over the demigod under him, his hair just long enough to fall forward and tickle his ears. He braced his hand against Keith’s shoulder, keeping him pinned just in case. His sword was close enough that with one sudden move Keith would need a medic and a ton of ambrosia.

Keith’s eyes were wide, darting back and forth between the blade and his eyes. Lance pressed harder on his shoulder. He didn’t want to actually hurt him but he still wasn’t about to lose either.

His cheeks were pink and he licked his lips, opening his mouth to speak when the woods erupted in cheers around them.

Lance straightened, head twisting around to see if he could see whose team was cheering. “Wait, who won?”

He stood up and wandered to the edge of the clearing. Where was his team? Godsdamn someone just tell him who won!

Behind him, Keith stood up, face hidden by his bangs as he dusted himself off. Combing his fingers through his hair Keith walked over. “Can you see the banner from here?”

Lance sighed and shook his head. The trees had too much cover and they were in a little dip between the two flags. Wherever he looked it was just more and more trees.

The cheering got louder, the trees shaking with celebration. From the direction of Keith’s base, a small crowd of screaming kids from the Ares and Hephaestus cabin surged through the foliage. Seeing Keith they cheered even louder, nearly popping Lance’s eardrums.

Crowding around them they grabbed onto Keith and hoisted him in the air, chanting.

Behind him, he felt a couple of hands on his shoulders. Lucas’s mouth was twisted in a rueful smile, squeezing his shoulder. Katy next to him, arms crossed and hair a mess of twigs and mud.

It took a hot second for everything to process. The exuberant cheers from the other team and how his own was tolerating it.

“We lost?” Katy sighed, chest moving with how deep it was, and nodded. She dug into her hair and flicked out a berry. Disbelief filled his entire being; he could feel his eyebrows crawl to the top of his forehead. “How?” He gestured to Keith who was finally being put down from his grinning team. “I had everything planned. I know him so well I might as well had his plans!”

“Lance,” Keith called, lips quirking at the side, head tilted slightly and eyes surprisingly soft. “You forget. I know you just as well as you know me.”

Lance pouted as he turned his marshmallow. The bonfire in front of him an excited red, so bright it could probably be seen from space. That color definitely came from the Ares kids, they were celebrating enough for the whole camp.

He wasn’t upset per se but he wasn’t exactly jumping for joy. He wasn’t bright red happy. Maybe a muted orange or a consolatory yellow—godsdamnit! He was so sure they would win!

He couldn’t help the pout on his lips as he let the marshmallow fall off to sizzle in the fire with a wet plop. Poking around the fire, letting the tip of his stick catch fire and watching it burn, he didn’t notice the presence that literally popped in next to him.

He jerked as Romelle and Nadia materialized into existence next to him. ”Holy Hera, don’t do that!” Romelle pouted at him, crossing her arms as she flickered in and out of existence like static. An ace bandage was slapped on her forehead and a Hello Kitty Band-Aid was barely hanging on to her chin.

Nadia settled in next to him, slowly becoming solid as Romelle’s magic wore off. He handed her a fresh marshmallow.

Romelle stomped closer, still not saying anything but clearly saying something. He eyed her warily as she glared at him, the flickering slowing down until she was fully solid. He bit the bullet.

“You couldn’t have done that during capture the flag?” he snipped at her.

Her hand shot out before he even registered her moving, smacking him on the head. “You couldn’t have told me I was a part of your little scheme?!”

“That’s because you can’t keep a secret for sh—“ Lance cut himself off and placed his hands on either side of Nadia’s head, ignoring her insulted look. “Shit,” he mouthed over her head.

Nadia smacked his hands off her head exclaiming that she knew what swear words were. She reached around him and snagged another marshmallow or three. Her voice was a little muffled as she tried to speak with her cheeks full like a little chipmunk. “When we were separated we were hit by green balls of fire. Romelle saved me but she was knocked out.”

Romelle gingerly touched her bandage, a dejected smile touching her lips. At his look she waved off his concern before squinting her eyes at him in a playful glare. “Next time, McClain, let me in on the plan instead of having your sister tell me when we’re under attack by Greek fire.”

Lance winced. “Sorry about that, won’t do it again.” He looked between Romelle and Nadia. “Other than that you two were okay?”

“Oh yeah!” Romelle exclaimed, waving her arm in a grand gesture as if to brush off his concern but only making it look like she was swatting at a mosquito. “When we were under attack I went bwoosh and Nadia was like aahhh, but in a good way. She even got a hit in before we were captured!”

“Yeah?” Lance looked over to where Nadia was blushing. “So you had a good first capture the flag?”

She looked over at him, dark cheeks still flushed with color from Romelle’s praise. “Green balls of fire,” she deadpanned.

Lance sighed, resigned and not willing to push it. She isn’t the first Aphrodite kid to be more of a lover than a fighter. And if she didn’t like it there wasn’t much he could do about it.

“…But it was fun.”

Lance felt his eyebrows climb up his forehead, a grin spreading over his face. “Really?”

With a tiny smile, Nadia nodded.

“I’m glad, Chiquita,” Lance said reaching over to ruffle her hair.

“We can totally pair up in the future,” Romelle added giving Nadia a side hug. “Now that we got a good strategy!”

Lance rolled his eyes. “Romelle, Keith already knows what I was planning. That was how he knocked you out.”

With a heavy sigh, Romelle crossed her arms and popped out a hip. “Ugh, that guy. He knows you too well.”

“Five years will do that.”

They all jerked to the new voice, Nadia releasing a little “eep” of surprise.

Keith settled in next to him on the log bench, legs stretched out in front of him with his hands tucked into a red zip-up over his orange Camp Half-Blood T-shirt. The fire reflecting in his eyes in reds and pinks, turning his normally blue eyes purple, as he soaked up its warmth. He had the barest touch of a smirk on his face. “You’re gonna have to work harder than that to surprise me.”

A few years back Lance would immediately think that Keith was mocking him. Rubbing the fact that he lost in his face and he would never be better than him. And, to be honest, a little voice still nags at him about it. At certain times like after losing a match or Keith being chosen for a quest. Telling him that he would never be able to be good enough, to catch up, be his equal.

But that voice has quieted. Because he knows Keith better and he knows himself better. He’s not a scared eleven-year-old running away from monsters that chased him out of his bed.

That doesn’t mean he’ll take his smack talk lying down.

“Hmm, mmhm, says the guy who I defeated today. Remember that? You know, when you were pinned down with your own sword to your throat? Hmmm?” Lance goaded, leaning ever so closer, smug smile on his face.

Red spread across Keith’s face, all the way to his ears and down his neck. “You just caught me off guard!” he shot back.

“Uh huh,” Lance was close enough to see the faint flecks of purple in Keith’s eyes. Could see how soft and smooth his skin was. A dumb, impulsive voice telling him to cup his cheek and run his thumb across it to see just how soft his skin was. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Keith scowled, lips pursing into a pout. “Whatever.” He pulled back, just an inch, and looked away, the color rising in his cheeks. “I wanted to talk to you. In—“ his eyes looked away, glancing over all the eyes on them, “private.”

Lance’s heart drummed against his breastbone. An unsteady beat that threw him off balance, unable to get back on his feet. They were too close. His heart was too fast. He had too many feelings. There were too many—

“Kiss, kiss, kiss!” A group of, unfortunately, familiar sounding voices chanted.

—people.

Lance grimaced and buried his face to hide from the world. Could a magical earthquake open up underneath him and swallow him up, please? Like right now? Where are the gods when you need them?!

Godsdamnit, he was reconsidering on the no-facemasks but not anymore those ungrateful demigods. His siblings are the worst.

Lance stood up, cheeks hot, embarrassment making his chest tight. “Come on, Keith.” He stuffed his hands in his jeans and stalked off towards the lake, ignoring the suggestive catcalls as they left.

It wasn’t a full moon but there was enough light that he could make his way down to the dock easily. The lights from the cabins fading away as the half-moon guided him to where he could think without eyes on him.

“You wanted to talk, yeah?” Lance finally asked, knowing the answer. He slowed to a stop as they approached the lake. “I’m sorry if they embarrassed you.” In his peripheral Keith shrugged.

“I don’t care what they say.”

Lance nodded, watching how the moon’s reflection wavered in the water. The silence that fell over them wasn’t uncomfortable. Just…heavy. Heavy with a lot of things left unsaid. And things that should be. He sat down on the dock, legs dangling over the edge. Keith sat down next to him.

“Are you,” Keith started in this halting, careful way of his whenever he’s dealing with Lance’s emotions. Like every word to be weighed and judged before being deemed adequate. “Okay?”

Lance sighed, trying to get some of the poison out, his chest feeling a little bit lighter for it. “I’m cool. They’re just… so fucking dumb.”

Keith snorted. “They can’t be worse than my cabin. There’s a mutiny every single day. At least your cabin respects you and listens to you.”

“Oh, oh, oh, Keith, my man, my dude, you don’t know the psychological horrors my siblings would put you through.”

Keith side-eyed him, a smirk play on his lips. “Yeah… but you seem to handle it pretty well.”

Lance… couldn’t argue with that. He tipped his head back and groaned to the stars and the moon. ”Ugh, why are you so mature and shit?”

The low chuckled sent a shiver down Lance’s spine. He crossed his arms to make it look like it was because of the cold. “I don’t know, patience yields—“

“—focus,” Lance finished. Lance shook his head. “Gods, Shiro, off adventuring and still finding ways to make us mature adults.”

“I wouldn’t say that college in New Rome is an adventure—“

“It so is an adventure!” Lance leaned forward, eyes just as big as his smile as he tried to inject some of his enthusiasm into Keith’s grumpy butt. “It’s college. A couple of years ago that wouldn’t have been an option for us. Come on, man, just imagine it, going to classes, sleeping in a dorm, getting a degree. I bet you, you would have the time of your life.”

Keith bit his lip, brow furrowed and too slow in disguising his emotions from Lance of all people. His face smoothed out into bland indifference.

“So, speaking about bets,” Keith prompted, a touch too neutral.

Lance examined Keith’s face. Watched how despite his neutral tone and how indifferent he tried to come across the muscle in his jaw still jumped and the tense muscles around his eyes asked him to leave the subject for another day. He slumped back, shoulders dropping as he whined, “what kind of horribly embarrassing thing do you want me to do? Clean out the Pegasus stalls? Follow you around with a sign that says ‘Keith is the greatest?’”

He heard a snort next to him and he felt a small thrill of victory. A smile peeked through as Keith shook his head, face relaxed once again. He cleared his throat and turned towards Lance, the color high in his cheeks.

“You have to…” Keith trailed off, the muscles in his face twitching with little micro expressions that Lance couldn’t name. “You have to… uh, I want—“ Keith’s lips twisted into a pained grimace.

Lance smirked, “You having some difficulties there, buddy?”

Keith huffed out a breath, blowing his bangs out of his red-stricken face. ”No, I just don’t want to force you to do something you don’t want to do.”

His shoulders shook from his laughter. That was so on-brand for Keith Lance isn’t even surprised. “That’s the point, man. That’s what a bet is. Making someone do something they don’t want to do.”

“Well, I don’t want to make you do what you don’t want to do.” The spots of color high on Keith’s cheeks seemed to glow brighter as his back straightened, his honor and noble-ness no doubt bolstering him. Like a knight. It would be stupid if it weren’t so attractive.

Lance smothered a smile that was starting to creep up, though Keith could probably hear it in his voice. “How about… you tell me what it is or whatever. And if I’m, like, super against it I’ll tell you no.” He fanned out his hands in a nonchalant gesture. “Sounds fair?”

Keith gnawed on his lip and nodded. His thumb ran over his knuckles as he looked at the water instead of him, clasping his hands together to stop. His lips barely moved, the sound escaping in a breathy mumble as Keith stared daggers into the fire.

“…I’m not gonna lie, I have no idea what you just said.”

Keith groaned and covered his face with his hands, still resolutely not looking at Lance.

Feeling so incredibly amused at this apparent torture Lance bit his lip because laughing at Keith’s pain would be mean. Shuffling closer, he leaned into Keith’s personal space. Close enough that he could see the flush of his skin and the faint, faint, faint freckles he sometimes gets when out in the sun too long between his fingers.

Seeing how close Lance was Keith squeezed his eyes shut and dug the heels of his palm into his eyes. A heatedly whispered, ”fuck,” later and he bites out, “do you want to go on a date with me?”

Skkkkrrt. Wait. Rewind. “What?”

Keith instantly shot up, body turning, tense and jumpy. “Fuck, never mind.”

Before he could get too far Lance had a hand on his shoulder and the other grasping his sleeve. Somehow right next to him before he even realized that he moved.

“Wait. Yes— what— yes,” he stuttered out before his mouth could do any more harm.

He used his grip to gently turn Keith more towards him. He had his arms crossed in front of him, fingers gripping the fabric of the jacket, a scowl he hasn’t seen since their first year in place. ��You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

His heart beat faster than when he faced down that Nemean lion. And somehow this was scarier than almost becoming cat food. Heat flared in his cheeks as he lowered his voice, cautious of the prying ears around the campfire. “I want to.”

Keith’s face softened, the scowl fading into a vulnerable look Lance had only seen a handful of times. He bit his lip and sat back down.

Lance sat next to him, not close enough to touch but enough for him to easily lean over and rest his hand between them. He didn’t want to push what already felt new and fragile. Baby steps. He was 96% sure that Keith would jump out of his skin and fall into the lake if he as much as puts his arm around him.

“Are you sure?” Keith blurted out, forcing Lance to drag his gaze from shark-toothed grins.

It’s almost as if he has Hermes’ flying shoes flying around in his stomach, kicking around and messing up the place. The idea of going out with Keith… that Keith wanting to go out with him… made him far too giddy for his own good.

“Absolutely. I told you I would say no if I didn’t right?” Lance bumped his shoulder against Keith’s. “You’re not calling me a liar are ya?”

Keith scoffed, leaning back on his hands, his fingers overlapping his. His fingers practically burned at the contact. “Never.” Those same fingers shifted and weaved between his, falling together like puzzle pieces. He smirked and looked over at him, hair parting so he could see his eyes. “I know you far too well for that.”

#vld #klance #PJO au #lance #keith #nadia #romelle #Swordplay and Strawberry Fields #lexwrites #whew boi it's been a hot second since i posted anything #hello

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imnotcameraready · 5 years ago

Text

chivalry is dead (19 [INTERMISSION 2])

A/N: cut to me rubbing my little fly hands together — i am SO excited to get this ball started that i’m literally boutta post 2 chapters, so bear with me here ,., also, posting them now because i’ve gotta go to work at around 11 and then dont wanna do posting/edits at like, midnight lmao

bc that’s when im just gonna. keep writing., im so excited for this arc y’all im literally shaking

WARNINGS: massive descriptions of disassociation, being lightheaded, mentions of being dehydrated, mentions of not eating, threats of being pushed down the stairs, bandage mention ig? — i think that's all on this one!!!

Words: 1181

AO3 link!

MASTERPOST! <– look here!! for the longterm warnings!! including sympathetic Deceit and cursing/swearing!

enjoy !!! <3 <3 <3 <3

“You’re in my world now, not your world~”

“Why are there so many stairs?”

“And I’ve got foes on the other side~”

“Wait, that’s not the lyric.”

“Sit down at my table~”

“.....Fine.”

“Put your mind at ease~”

“I put a spell on you~”

A small, tired laugh. “If you relax, it will enable me to do….”

“And now you’re mine~!”

“...Anything I please. I can read your future~”

“Be prepa-ared!”

“I can change it ‘round some, too~”

“Trust in me~”

More laughter. “Ironic.”

“Fuck off or I’ll drop you down the stairs. You started it!”

“I know, I know. It’s all almost done. I only hope Thomas is-I hope he’s okay.”

“Eh, who gives? He’ll be fine soon enough, don’t worry your bandages off. Come on, your gown is waiting.”

Thomas flicked his feet left and right, watching the television while paying absolutely zero attention while laying on the couch upside down. After failing to summon the Sides that morning, he’d gone to watch television, and found himself rewatching The Office again in a semi-binge state. It’d take a solid four days to watch it all but it wasn’t like Thomas had the motivation or drive to do anything else, despite the looming deadline on the new video’s script.

On any other day, he’d be able to hear Virgil screaming at him, Roman rushing around with ideas, butting heads with Logan over rewrites and edits. Patton’d pop in with some supportive words and an offer to make dinner sometimes.

But now? Now he wasn’t getting anything. It was as though all of his sides had clocked out at once — even Deceit and Remus weren’t delivering input. And whatever was holding back any of the other Sides he had (because, lets face it, Thomas had no idea how many Sides there were in total, especially not after Remus’ introduction) wasn’t letting up. So, using every ounce of deductive reasoning he had left, Thomas figured that he just. No longer had a personality.

The more he thought about that, though, the more he considered how irrational that would be. But he didn’t care enough to believe a separate reasoning? And didn’t have the focus, creativity, or capacity to think of a different explanation.

So, The Office.

He had been sitting on this couch for upwards of twelve hours. Probably bordering on sixteen to seventeen hours, but he couldn’t count. It was long past sunset outside, perhaps the stars were out.

An empty pizza box was sitting on the couch beside him. At least he had the common sense to eat one meal — an extra large pepperoni meal, but a meal nonetheless.

What the heck was happening?

The phone on his chin, balanced there out of boredom a few hours ago, buzzed and nearly fell off.

Thomas’ hand smacked up to it, causing his phone to fall and hit his nose. That caused a chain reaction of him falling over, first sideways onto the couch, then rolling off the couch all together and onto the floor.

So much for “nothing happening.” Thomas groaned as he pushed himself up onto his elbows and grabbed his phone, which had slid beneath the table.

He flicked it on.

JOAN —> IMG0492.JPG

Ah. Thomas squinted and opened it.

It was a Sanders Sides meme, one of the new templates. He covered his mouth and snorted with laughter, shaking his head.

Another text from Joan dinged.

JOAN —> you alive? you missed prime coffee shop writing hours

Oh, heck. Thomas mentally chided himself. He and Joan were going to hunker down at a cafe and hash out the new script today to get it done before the deadline. Of course he forgot, like an absolute doofus.

He began typing out a response. The thought of lying flitted through his mind, the excuse of being “out of it” wasn’t exactly the best reason. He thought for a second but he couldn’t even think of an adequate lie. Wow. Even Deceit had clocked out. Thomas probably should have tried to summon him, now that he thought about it. A little past time, but, oh well.

Alright, the truth. How the heck was he supposed to explain that he couldn’t think? Thomas pushed himself off the floor on his elbows, but winced as the weight seemed to leave his head almost immediately. He kept a hand on the couch as he sat up on his knees, one hand running through his hair and then resting on the back of his neck.

How long had he been sitting upside down again? Goodness gracious. Part of him wanted to be worried about the repercussions of not having a coherent thought process, but the other was kinda singing Disney songs on repeat.

In actuality, the most coherent thoughts he had held all day was the nonstop playlist of Disney songs that seemed to run through his head.

At least that meant Roman was still kicking? That’s what that meant, right?

Oh, yeah, the text. Thomas pushed himself up onto the couch, ignoring how both of his legs seemed to be asleep, buzzing with the prickly pain of pinched nerves and a lack of blood. Lack of blood. All the blood was in his head. Heheheh.

Gosh, he should sleep soon, he was getting light headed. Had he had any water today, actually? The thought of water made his throat run dry — no, no he hadn’t.

Focus, Sanders. He bit his tongue and typed out a response. Using both thumbs, because for some reason, his single-hand coordination was not working.

THOMAS —> Yeah. Sorry about that, I think I’m sick or something. Haven’t been able to hold a thought all day and my head is super light.

JOAN —> thats fair, do you have tea or some soup? :( if youre that sick do you wanna push the script deadline a day or two?

What did Thomas do to deserve Joan, they were always such a beacon of sunlight. He smiled to himself and responded as fast as he could while typing like a technologically illiterate fool, one letter per minute.

THOMAS —> That would be awesome. I’ve got tea, too. Think I’m gonna go to sleep soon though

THOMAS —> Could we push one day? And if you’re still not doing anything on Sunday, we could reschedule

JOAN —> okay, I’ll let the team know. you get some sleep!!

JOAN —> I’m down for prime coffee shop o’clock on Sunday. 9 am at brewed awakening?

JOAN —> if you need some soupy soup let me know

Then they sent a cat gif with hearts from Giphy. What an angel.

Thomas exhaled and leaned back on the couch. He put his phone flat on his forehead, then crossed his arms. That was the best news to come out of today, honestly. One day was better than no days. And if he and Joan could mix up some good ideas on Sunday, then all the better.

Hopefully that’d give the Sides enough time to figure out what the flip was happening in there.

taglists!

chivalry taglist: @starlightvirgil @forrestwyrm @daflangstlairde @marshmallow-the-panda @askthesnake @k9cat @patromlogil @theobsessor1 @ninja-wizard101 @fandomsofrandom

general taglist: @jemthebookworm @okay-finne

#chivalry au #thomas #thomas sanders #sanders sides #fic #my fic #roman #roman saners #ts roman #ts fanfic #pour one out for 1 braincell thomathy #hes been having a rough time #i like how as soon as remus was introduced ive begun sliding him in at every possibility #like im wow

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disabled-queen-hc-blog · 5 years ago

Note

one of the boys dealing with intrusive thoughts bc of their ocd ?

Content Warning for Graphic Descriptions of Violence and Mutilation

♚

Roger squinted at the recipe in front of him, eyes scanning over the next step. He was home alone with no plans for the night, so he figured he could try and dabble with the recipe book he just bought. Tonight, he was attempting to make Greek gyros. Attempting.

Finely dice 1/4 a cup of yellow onions

Roger wasn’t a fan of yellow onions, so he substituted them for red ones. No big deal right?

He reached into his grocery bag with all the ingredients he had bought earlier, picking out the onion. He grabbed a knife and got to work dicing them on the cutting board. He was no chef, but chopping everything up until it was in small pieces seemed within his skill level.

He whistled as he sliced through the onion, praying his eyes wouldn’t get irritated.

And then Roger slammed the knife straight across his fingers. Blood spurted out of the nubs, his four fingers rolling on the cutting board. Roger did it again, this time cutting through his palm and thumb.

He kept whacking away at his hand until the kitchen was covered in red and gore and he was left with only a stump on his wrist. He kept going still.

Roger jumped back, awakened from his thought. He looked down at his hand, still intact, not a drop of blood leaking out of it. His breath was hitched, eyes watering, not from the onions.

Shakily he put the knife down and backed out of the kitchen, his hand on his chest. What the fuck?

He’d order Chinese take out instead.

♚

“And this new kitty is named Tiffany! Just look at her,” Freddie said, holding up the tiny new addition to his family. Tiffany mewed at Roger, batting his nose with her small paw.

Roger couldn’t help but to nearly screech at the adorable little kitten. “This is your first pure bred isn’t it?” he asked as Freddie handed Tiffany over to him. The grey kitten stretched out on his lap before curling up, unbothered by all the attention. It was her nap time, it seemed.

“Yes! I saw an ad in the paper for a breeder and well..I usually adopt, but I just had to see this litter. And I fell in love with her when I saw her. She’s a magnificent daughter isn’t she?” Freddie gushed, stroking the sleepy Tiffany’s little head. Tiffany squeaked.

Roger joined in on the petting, his pointer finger big enough to give her a nice rub behind her flattened ears.

If he linked his thumb with his pointer, his fingers were big enough to pick Tiffany up from around the neck and squeeze. And if he squeezed hard enough maybe her head would pop off. Maybe he could just rip it’s head off with his hand, no issue. It wouldn’t even struggle. He could crush it’s head under his heel, if he wanted. He cou-

Roger gasped, looking at Tiffany in his lap. Her eyes were closed, letting out a quiet purr. His heart was beating fast, a sweat forming on his brow. His whole body began to shake as he handed Tiffany back to a confused Freddie, stuttering out an excuse as to why he had to leave so suddenly.

As he walked down the hallway to the front door, he jumped when a cat brushed up against him.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered to it before running out the door. There was something seriously wrong with him.

♚

The first thing Roger heard was snapping. He shook his head, desperately trying to push those thoughts out of his head. He blinked back tears, looking at John who was trying to get his attention.

“Hello? Roger, are you there? Ar- oh. Goodness, why are you crying, mate?” John said, his disposition going soft once he saw the panic in Roger’s eyes.

Roger looked around, unsure of what to do. The jig was up. He got caught in one of those day-mares. He had just finished thinking about thrashing John’s head back into the concrete wall until it broke, until his brain oozed out, until John was more than dead.

He couldn’t say that. No. John would think he was insane. A psychopath. He had to lie.

Roger wasn’t a good liar though.

He quickly wicked away his tears, coughing. “Oh, um. I don’t know what happened. Started thinking and got emotional, uh, I think,” he said, a hint of a tremor in his voice.

John wasn’t a good liar himself either, but he did have a good bullshit detector. He nodded a little bit, scooting closer to Roger. He knew something was up even before the tears. Roger had suddenly disconnected from the conversation they were having, his face going blank. His eyes got all wide, his mouth curling into a frown. After a few seconds, he blinked himself back into reality, clearly upset by whatever just happened.

“Rog..you know I’m here for you, no matter what, right?” John said, his tone gentle. He didn’t want to pry, but something was up with his friend. It was in his nature to try to help.

Roger was finding it hard to breathe. He wanted to talk or say something, but all his brain could conjure up was the image of John dead in front of him. Dead by his hands. Dead slouched over the table or dead on the floor, bleeding out or screaming for help as Roger beat him with a chair or-

“Woah, Roger, take a breath,” John said, hands on Roger’s shoulder, snapping him out of it again.

Roger wanted to bit his lip but words tumbled out instead. “There’s something wrong with me. Something really wrong. I keep t-thinking of all these horrible things. Me doing those things. H-Hurting people and myself....Killing them...”

He covered his mouth, his eyes growing glassy. Why did he say that? Why did he admit to being a murderer in the making?

John’s eyebrows went up at the confession, but he didn’t look disgusted or scared. He would be though. Roger was sure of that.

John’s hands went from Roger’s shoulders to gripping the drummer’s hands in his own. The human touch felt good, but Roger didn’t deserve it. He was struggling to swallow a sob.

“That sounds like intrusive thoughts,” John said simply. His grey eyes stared into Roger’s, soft as ever. Roger expected an admittance of revulsion. A plan to force him into a psych ward. He didn’t expect that.

Roger shook his head, not understanding. “W-What?” he stammered, his hands quaking.

“Intrusive thoughts. Just what it sounds like. Thoughts that randomly pop up into your brain that are bad. Evil. Gross. You don’t like or want them but your brain forces you to watch them anyways. They scare you. Disgust you. But you don’t have any control over ‘em,”

The more John talked, the more Roger deflated. There was a name for this? It was normal? Especially for people with OCD? Why hadn’t anyone told him that OCD and intrusive thoughts were buddy buddy? Why hadn’t anyone told him what intrusive thoughts even were?

“So, I’m not going crazy? Not going homicidal?” Roger blubbered, the tears dripping down his cheeks. He really thought he’d be the next Jack the Ripper in a year’s time.

“You’re fine, mate. Trust me. I spend a lot of time in therapy,” John said with a small laugh, which made Roger smile a bit.

After collapsing into John’s hug and some more time talking about the phenomenon of intrusive thoughts, Roger felt so much better. He had spent months bottling up these experiences, hoping they’d go away on their own. He swore something was seriously wrong with him. To know that he was normal and not bad for thinking like this made his bones turn to jelly. John even had to drive Roger home since he was too limp with joy to manever his stick shift.

Before parting that night, John made Roger promise him two things.

One, to go see a therapist. Pills helped with OCD, but nothing could replace the tools and insight a therapist could give you.

And two, to relax. Roger was one of the sweetest, kindest people he knew. He wasn’t secretly evil or a creep. He was a good person. He was good.

With a cheeky grin as he stood at the doorway, Roger said to John he could promise two but not one. After a friendly exchange of middle fingers, Roger closed to door, leaning against, taking in a deep breath.

I’m good.

What if I slammed the door on my ankle and severed it?

I’m good.

What if I threw myself in front of John’s moving car?

I’m good.

What if I flung myself out the window?

I’m good.

I. Am. Good.

Roger let out a sigh, eyes closing. That was the first nice thought he had in a very long time.

#tw graphic #graphic content #tw blood #tw mutilation #ocd!roger #obsessive compulsive disorder!roger #Anonymous

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princemick-archive · 2 years ago

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Ok for some reason Mick is giving me strong Apollo vibes and I love that for him. I also think it’s due to his blonde hair and blue eyes.

Another person I think that could be Apollo is Seb and that’s because Apollo is also the god of knowledge (well if I look at Wikipedia) and Seb knows his shit when it comes to F1 (look no further than him naming all the F1 champions). Also you know Seb has many nicknames like Fireman Seb and Inspector Seb and Apollo is also a god of many things.

For that same reason Seb could also be Hermès.

Alonso is Hera cos they’re both petty bitches. (I mean tbf Hera is getting cheated on by Mr Can’t Keep it in His Pants Zeus but she does pull some horrible stuff) (also it’s been a while so my details are bit blurred so bear with me.

Lewis is Hades cos out of the three brothers Hades is my favourites. They both also have cute dogs and are very good at their jobs.

Danny Ric can be either Hermès or Dionysus. Hermes cos like god of mischief (actually not sure about that but the Stroll Twins in PJO are very mischievous). Dionysus cos god of wine and parties but also patron god of theatre so I seem some of Danny Ric in that.

Charles is Aphrodite or maybe even Cupid cos like it seems like half the grid loves him. (Although less on Cupid cos I don’t like due to THAT Nico scene in House of Hades). Also Aphrodite is goddess of love which can be similar to war ( or something I remember there being a scene about the similarities between Ares and Aphrodite at some point during the Heroes Of Olympus)

Yuki is giving me Hestia vibes ie not really in your face but is liked by everyone and is pretty good at their job.

George Russell (sometimes I need to write out his full name) is Athena - whipping out a PowerPoint to be able to sign a contract and try to win Rookie of the Year? Very Athenaesque.

For some reason I can’t fathom Esteban is Bob. But we love Bob in this house so Esteban is Bob.

Lance - I feel like is Hephaestus for the fact that they tend to be one of those who are in the background and sometimes they do have some spectacular moments. Like Lance’s pole in Turkey 2020(?) and his podiums. Hephaestus’ interactions with Leo is so endearing and Lance gives me the same vibe.

Ok sorry for ranting but that’s all the drivers I could find comparisons to/care about

please, theres nothing more to add to this.

apollo mick I like but his ego is honestly not inflated enough.

hera as nando is fucking stupid perfect.

hermes danny is exactly what I said to but I love dionysus but it feels to on the nose.

hades as lew I like it but hades is to passive to fit lew imo aphrodite feels like the gossipy look fixated person lew also seems like.

charles as cupid I fucking love but also cupid is to annoying for charles also him being lews kid, kinda funky

hestia yuki is fucking perfection yes pls, I'll install a hearth to pray to him

also yes russell athena but also george, lando and alex as the faiths.

seb as apollo is also banger but seb as athena is just to perfect bc this man is also stubborn enough to pop a whole baby out of his forehead

#kyle.answers #diomedesbrokeit #gods.au

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mouthfulloftoothpasterry · 2 years ago

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What happened if you don’t mind me asking?

Okay I’m being like a touch dramatic

But it was definitely one of the scariest moments ever

So my sister is looking to move out, schooling is about to end for her so she’s been saying she’s old enough and she wants to be independent and go get a place of her own

So I’m like okay yeah, show me and I can help you decorate and chose what you want to do bc i love decorating and stuff and me and my sister are really close so I was sooo excited for her to get her own place and she was like “it’s three bedrooms so you can have your own room”

And my gma rents this place out to uni students in my town I had already seen it and stuff

But we decided since she was going to rent ir out with her friend and they are going to move soon that we would check it out

And since it’s our gmas house she told us where the keys are and we go there to help her with it every now and then after someone moves out

So we went there and had a little sleepover there bc we thought it was cute, the water, air, lights, that is all still on so we had no problem

So we went to stay there, we had wine and shit it felt like we were all little teenagers again and we were having so much fun

But since we made the plans I’ve har a gut feeling that something was going to go wrong, and my gut feeling is never wrong like I’m one of those kind of people who is super into deja vu and this and that and I kept having deja vu and once we all went to go to bed I got such a sick feeling and told my sister

And me and my sister fell asleep just about the same time and once we got into deep sleep we literally shot up ar the same time because we heard the sound of a door downstairs opening and closing

And we both were frozen and couldn’t move until we heard another nose- which was the front door trying to be opened, so we were froze a bit and then we went to the kitchen to find some sort of weapon 😭, walked around a relocked doors, all that

And then we finally got home but my sister didn’t tell me until we were in the car that she saw someone through the curtains- basically there was like a sunroom in the front and there were curtains covering the door leading into the room we were in bc it also lead to that sun room

So I’m still terrified and sorry for the longest story ever 🫶

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notesofarichlycolorednight · 7 years ago

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Hey, can you do 9. ‘We might die tomorrow’ kiss and 10. ‘You nearly died’ kiss for Luke/Tori please? (when you have time)

sorry this took so long fam. i actually had an idea a week ago, but i also had to go back to grad school. so i mean good news: i’ve been able to really think abt these prompts. bad news: it took a bit to get to them. but here they are! (i may post them later to ao3 and ff, so look out for this updated post with links!)

for those of you just tuning in :D tori is my oc, and i’ve written two stories abt her so far in the pjo-verse: it’s the perfect story & i need another story, just for some context

9 and 10 are both under the cut. it just looks like 9 rn bc of organizational stuff

ps: to the anon who sent in #20 for this meme with tori, i will get to that prompt next (but it may be another week before i post it, for that i apologize). also i got your other ask abt tori and the canon other universe and will also get to that soon

Kiss Meme Prompt #9: “We might die tomorrow” kiss

Luke and I kept each other’s gaze once Percy had given our cabins their assignment, only breaking away from each other once when Thalia and the Hunters of Artemis came and offered to hold the Lincoln Tunnel. Obviously, he’d want to greet his old friend. I wouldn’t say I was friends with Thalia, but we exchanged a brief glance, nod of the head, and a small smile. Which was fine by me.

Luke and I stayed quiet when Percy raised his sword and shouted, “FOR OLYMPUS!” which the kids around us echoed. Everyone started off in the direction on the place they’d been assigned to, but as I turned to follow my siblings, I felt a calloused hand grab my arm and pull me back.

“You’re not actually leaving without saying goodbye, are you?” Luke murmured in my ear. I rolled my eyes but smiled and turned to face him, Luke’s hand resting on my waist. Around us, the patter of footsteps leaving died down and I could feel eyes on my back. We were in the middle of the war, and they still found room for gossip. How human of us.

“Of course not,” I replied, resting the palms of my hands on his chest. Luke waited, when I didn’t move or say anything else he glared at me ruefully, a smile playing at his lips.

“Do I get a kiss? I could die you know,” he said.

“No, but I’ll do you one better,” I told him. Luke raised an eyebrow. “Don’t die. That’s not a request, it’s an order.”

“Is it now?” Luke asked, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me flush against him. His eyes glinted with mischief and a challenge.

“Yeah, and you’d better follow that order,” I responded, wrapping my arms around his neck, pressing myself even closer to him. “Soldier.” I closed the distance between us, not caring that basically the entire camp, minus the Ares cabin, were watching our public display of affection.

The kiss started gentle and playful, but the joking soon evaporated, replaced by a desperation and overwhelming anxiety. Luke’s fingertips dug into the small of my back, riding my shirt up slightly. My arms tightened around his neck like a vice and I stood up on the tips of my toes—I couldn’t press myself close enough to him even though I could feel his heartbeat against mine.

When we pulled away, I was so breathless I couldn’t speak for at least 30 seconds. Luke looked like he didn’t want to let go of me. Even so, I stepped away, my eyes burning with a flood of tears.

“That’s an order, remember,” I managed, despite my closing throat, my unshed tears. I pressed hand against his chest, as if to punctuate my point. Luke smiled tenderly and took my hand on his chest, bringing it up to his lips and kissing my palm before resting it against his cheek.

“I love you,” he said, meeting my eyes with such a gentle look, my heart did a summersault, reminding me why I fell in love with him in the first place.

“I love you, too,” I managed, more tears flooding my eyes.

A second passed before I began to pull my hand away, but Luke kept his hand in mine until both our arms were completely outstretched, until just our fingers were touching, then our fingertips, and then—

I spun around, taking a deep breath, trying to blink away my tears as I passed my waiting siblings. I could feel Luke’s eyes on my back, but I knew if I turned around, I wouldn’t want to go to the Williamsburg Bridge.

what

a happy au, in my writing?

the idea of luke being part of the percy’s regime is based off of a fanfic of my fanfic called djinn dreams by lucifersfavoritechild over on ao3.

summary without spoiler: it’s kinda an au where tori convinces luke to go back to camp, but someone else becomes kronos’s host so things play out p similarly as they did in the pjo books, just with luke and tori on percy’s side

Kiss Meme Prompt #10: “You nearly died” kiss

so this is almost a direct continuation from the last ask

Travis met me at the elevator to the top floors of the Plaza.

“Where is he?” I asked stepping out of the elevator, my voice hoarse from crying and terse from worry.

“This way.” Travis’ voice was quiet. He turned without another word and started making his way through the floor. I started to follow, but paused and looked back at the rest of my siblings (Will and Kayla gone—called ahead to the Plaza), all eyes rimmed with red from crying.

I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

Austin tried for a small smile. “We’ll be okay. We’ve got work to do.” His voice broke and he looked away.

“We’ll be fine,” Cressida reaffirmed.

I nodded, not believing it, but promising to check up on them as soon as I was able. I turned and followed Travis, who’d waited for me. We weaved through the other campers and Hunters grabbing something eat or drink, resting, or bandaging wounds.

I smelled it before I got there—the smell of blood and something…rancid. I tried not to gag, but my eyes watered and I couldn’t help the involuntary cough that welled up in my chest and forced its way out of my throat. The rest of the Hermes cabin was there, but parted when Travis and I came into view. My heart dropped and I felt all the air expel from my lungs. My feet froze.

Kayla was kneeling next to—what were they called?—a fainting couch, where Luke lay. Both of them looked sickly, but Luke looked worse. Kayla was pale from healing, her forehead sweaty. Luke looked…ashen grey. His eyes were closed, and from where I stood, I couldn’t tell if he was even breathing.

If he was even breathing…

“Is he—” I gasped, my body finally unfreezing and went forward to the edge of the couch. My nose had gone numb from the smell that was coming from a trash can filled with a mix of blood and some weird, dark green slimy substance. Tears filled my eyes and it wasn’t from the stench. “Kayla,” I whimpered, my knees buckling.

“He’s still alive,” she whispered. “He needs more healing, but I’ve stabilized him for right now.” She paused. “Though it may not look it.”

I was about to ask her what’d happened, but my sister’s eyes fluttered and I just barely managed to catch her. I looked up to the Hermes cabin. “Can someone help her to a bed?”

Travis came forward and I helped stand her up so Travis could sling one of her arms over his shoulders.

“Thank you,” I told him. Travis nodded and started off, his siblings parting to make a path for him. I turned back to Luke, kneeling next to the couch again, taking Kayla’s place. More tears flooded my eyes and I reached up with a shaking hand to gently brush the bangs from his forehead. Now that I was closer, I could see he was still breathing, but it was shallow and thready.

I took one of his hands in mine, holding it to my forehead as some tears slipped from my eyes.

You can’t leave me, I thought. You promised.

“He took a poisoned arrow for me.” Travis’ voice startled me from my thoughts and I pulled back. Travis was the only one here now, standing on my left. He’d pulled up a chair. I looked up at him through watery eyes. His eyes flickered to his brother. “I don’t know how, but it found a chink in his armor, I guess.” Travis shook his head, frowning. “I should’ve been paying more attention.”

I stood up, letting go of Luke’s hand and pulled Travis into a hug. It was a bit awkward because there was a chair between us, but I guess I was feeling particularly sentimental.

“This is not your fault,” I told him firmly. I pulled away and, of all things, smiled, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Besides, he’ll be fine. He’s on strict orders not to die, remember?”

Travis rolled his tear-filled eyes, but smiled. “Thanks.”

I squeezed his shoulder and pulled away. “You should get some rest.”

Travis nodded, his shoulders slumping. “Oh, and I brought this chair over for you, by the way. And, one more thing, he might need to throw-up more of that…stuff, so just grab the trashcan if he lurches or jerks awake. His body is still purging the poison.”

I nodded, every word like daggers flung into my body. I may have joked about it just now, but I was deathly afraid of losing him, worried he might not last the next few hours. Just the very thought of life without made my heart squeeze painfully in my chest.

Travis shuffled off and I moved to the chair as close as possible to the edge of the couch before sitting down and taking Luke’s hand back into mine. I was exhausted, and as soon as I sat down, it hit me like a freight train. But I didn’t want to go to sleep, or close my eyes. I wanted to keep them on Luke, make sure he was still breathing.

None of the color had returned to his skin, and his breathing was still shallow and irregular. To be fair, it’s only been like 20 minutes, but I thought if Kayla had stabilized him, it’d show. Even a little bit.

Just as I was about to doze off into sleep, Luke’s jerked and coughed. My heart shot into my throat and I had to let go of his hand to grab the trashcan and hold it up to him just in time for Luke to roll onto his side and retch more of the poison. The stench hit my nose again, fresh and strong, but I swallowed hard, forcing back my gag reflex. I was slightly relieved to see that he was no longer vomiting blood with the poison, however.

Once he was done retching, Luke fell back against the couch, his breathing labored. His eyes fluttered closed and he was out again, his breathing slowing to its shallow and ragged pace again.

More tears flooded my eyes. My hands were shaking again as I took one of his hands into both of mine and kissed his knuckles.

That’s an order, remember, I thought, closing my eyes.

I don’t know when or how it happened, but at some point, I ended falling asleep half on Luke, and half in the chair. My head rested on his chest, while from my waist down rested in the seat of the chair. (I would be told this by my siblings later.)

A soothing sensation, like something was massaging my scalp, roused me from sleep. At first, I was confused because I was having trouble orienting myself because of where I was laying. When I realized where I was and remembered what’d happened, I shot up with a gasp. But because of the position I was in, I ended up sliding out of the chair and taking a tumble to the floor with a squeak.

I pushed myself into a sitting position just in time to see Luke start to sit up, what color had returned to his face, draining from the effort.

I glared at him. “Don’t you dare.” Swallowing hard, Luke laid back down. I was close enough to tell even that little movement had caused him to start wheezing. Worry shot through me like an arrow.

I carefully picked myself up off the floor and pushed the chair away so I could sit on the edge of the couch, facing Luke. I moved my hair from my face and over one shoulder.

“You undid my braid,” I complained. Luke smiled—and, oh, was it so good to see those blue eyes twinkle again—and reached up to run his fingers through my hair.

“Your hair is soft,” he murmured. “I like running my fingers through it.”

I frowned. “How long have you been awake?”

Luke shrugged, pulling his hand away from my hair, but cupping my cheek. “Just a few minutes.” I leaned into his caress, and closed my eyes for a moment. I brought my hand up to cover his and opened my eyes again, smiling. My heart did a little gymnastics routine at his returning smile.

Slowly, I leaned forward, bracing my left lower forearm against the couch, next to Luke’s head. I hovered over him for a long moment, allowing myself to get lost in his eyes, allowing myself a moment to breathe, to feel cautious relief that he was going to survive.

Then Luke cupped my face and brought my lips down to his. I giggled and returned his affections.

Impatient as ever.

I don’t know what happened. One moment it was a sweet, but still swallow-you-whole kind of kiss, the next I felt hot tears streaming uncontrollably down my cheeks. I could taste the salt on my tongue when they hit my lips.

Luke pulled away. “Tori.” He started to shift, to sit up most likely, but I stayed where I was.

“Don’t.” I kept close, close enough our lips brushed. I could feel sobs building in my chest, and my breathing started to stutter as more tears flooded my eyes and reality settled in. I could sense Luke’s restlessness, but there was no amount of comfort he could offer me right now that would make me feel any better.

Finally, when I felt I’d gotten my breathing and tears a little under control, I pulled back so I could look at him. His blue eyes glittered with worry, and he instantly reached up to wipe away the tears from my cheeks with his thumbs.

“I almost lost you,” I sobbed quietly, looking down at him, still pretty pale. But not ashen anymore.

“I’m right here,” Luke assured, trailing his fingertips down my left arm before taking my hand into his. His other hand stayed, caressing my face. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.” His lips pulled into a crooked smile. “I’m under strict orders, remember.”

I snorted weakly, a small smile pulling at my lips, regardless.

“I love you.” Luke’s expression morphed into something I couldn’t quite read, but it was almost like…he was afraid I wouldn’t say it back. I wasn’t sure what had brought that on, but I quickly remedied it.

“I love you, too,” I replied, reaching up with my free hand to cover his that was still caressing my cheek before lacing my fingers through his.

Luke smiled, his blue eyes lighting up. I had to bit my lip on a silly, school-girl grin that was currently threatening to stretch across my face. My heart thumped strangely in my chest, blood flooding my cheeks, making me feel like a teen who’d just fallen in love all over again.

if you’ve read the books (i mean by this point, i hope you have…) this is right after the first night, and michael dying so that’s why all the red-rimmed eyes and somber mood. and i mean, luke was wounded p badly too so. also they are kinda in the middle of a war, so i mean there’s that too

this was so fun to write! thanks for sending them in ^_^ i know the second one is p long, but i wanted these to be as emotionally charged as they could be (bc i mean the prompts are p charged) but also subtle

i hope i accomplished that!

send me kisses

#asked and answered #pjo fanfic #oc: tori williams #luke castellan #my fanfic #my writing #writing ask #lucifers-favorite-child

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altheaselmaisadoradarsey · 7 years ago

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My thoughts on Hamilton West End

Thoughts on Hamilton West End 21/12/17 (night after opening!)

(This is long as shit and very messy it's full of first impressions and random things I've remembered (mainly the funny bits ngl) all mixed up together I apologise but I needed to get it out somehow cos I'm not good at expressing emotions lol, also the words funny, excited and hyper are prolly overused i apologise)

Bearing in mind I have not seen the bway show and the creative team is largely the same so I'm sure I'll talk a Talk about thinks that are similar in both

Vic pal theatre is stunning it's just been renovated our seats were sick even though we were about half way up the upper circle we had a brilliant view of the stage and the stage still felt really close

On a vaguely related note I wore my 'AND PEGGY' baseball cap and 3 of the stewards said they liked it it was cute

Act 1

FIRST THINGS FIRST THE CHOREOGRAPHY WAS STUNNING. A mash up of hip hop, modern and ballet. How you even think if that I don't know. There was always SO MUCH going on and the energy was constant - wether they were synchronised doing the same thing or all doing something different from the Schuyler sisters on the high walkway or the ensemble doing lifts in pairs even or whatever it just made me wanna dance (lol bc I can't) I can't talk about it enough but I'll stop now because I'm not eloquent enough.

Burr - voice is really unique and it was kinda weird at first (may be due to being used to Leslie) but you got used to it and I think reall suited the character? His mannerisms and physicality were SO BURR. Also was really funny! All his little one liners were done really funny-ly and well thought out.

Before they had King George to do a little announcement about phones and I love it also meant I was ready for the dum dum dumdum bc I was super nervous (in a good way?)

A.ham (song) - ahh it's such a good intro. when burr first came on there was an orange yellow light behind him and it made a super long shadow onto the stage and it was p o w e r f u l.

When they all came to the front of the stage in a line I was so excited because I've been waiting for that moment for 2 years

I LOVED Jamel Westman as Ham he was sick. He's just come out of RADA how do you deal with taking on a part like that with such little experience whoa . I must say that I think I liked him a lot more in act 2 than act 1 he seemed a bit stiff in act 1 but that may have been be I'm used to Lin who I think played him more nerdy and hyper? Kinda. I love both but Westman was insane. Also had a really nice singing voice.

Angelica slated my entire being Rachel John is perfect for that part

George Washington had a husky singing voice and it suited him so well

KING GEORGE III is possibly my favourite character ever he's so funny and extra.

I don't think Michael Jibson had the best singing I've heard in that role (but like who can even sing that it's high to kudos to him for hitting those notes) his 'kill your friends and family' was hilarious he sang the up until 'and family' which he said really seriously and then he left a massive pause where he just stared at the audience. I giggled. On the last da da dadadaaa's he did a little shoulder wiggle which was funny too! There was a couple of points over the three songs where he held long notes for even longer than necessary which was good too

Now my friends went and saw it in previews a couple of weeks ago and said they didn't really like Rachel Ann Go as Eliza so I did go in expecting to not like her as much ( I trust my friends opinions) which obviously wasn't great and I tried to go in with an open mind but I kinda understand why you might not like her however overall I thought she was good and I liked her a lot more in act 2 than act 1. At first I felt she was almost too excitable and hyper which more of a Peggy thing (speaking of, Peggy was really grumpy and cute which was funny) although Eliza did become a lot more restrained throughout the show which I think was a good choice as it helped show age and I think was more Eliza anyway. I thought her Best of Wives and Best of Women was perfect though. He American ACCENT though was not great I hate to say it but it was very British a lot of the time and in the 'ohhh I do I do I do I dooo' bit in helpless she sounded cockney? I'm sorry how

AWE IN HELPLESS ANGELICA COULDN'T GET ELIZA'S VEIL ON IN TIME SHE TRIED LIKE TWICE AND IT JUST SLID RIGHT IFF I FELT SO BAD It wasn't super noticeable though and things are bound to go wrong

In story of tonight reprise when Lauren's goes I've seen wonders great and small they all looked at Laf bc he was really short it was funny

Most of Wait for it was really still which was nice as it gave a rest from the crazy continual movement and action from the last few scenes. Also Burr has a peng voice

Ten duel commandments was super intense ahh

YORKTOWN WAS SO EXCITING IVE SEEEN ALL GHE PROMOS FOR THAT SONG AND TO ACTUALLY SEE IT LIVE SO EXHILARATING Westman was a stern leader and it worked really well

You could just tell that the audience thought it was the end of act one but NOPE SIT DOWN WE STILL GOT MORE

Also cheer on "immigrants: we get the job done" was British and polite but still there and I was READY FOR IT

on 'I'm so blue' in What Comes Next? Kings George did a little frustrated stamp and the red light he was standing snapped to blue it was good

Dear theodosia was super cute Burr and Ham were in matching costumes but Burr's waistcoat was purple and Ham's was green

Laurens' death was SAD but Cleve September is PERFECT for that role

Felt the transition from Laurens' death to not stop was bit quick, like I needed to feel sad for longer, it just sort of went straight into not stop

NON-STOP DAMN after the treasury or state bit Ham's 'lEtS gO' was so exciteable loved it.

On angelicas as it about her husband they got to the don't forget to writteee part and Angelica got taken away on the revolve Eliza was put into her place it was SO CLEVER near the end the staircase came into the middle and Washington was on the top and it was I N T E N S E

Clapped a freaking lot at the end of act one

Act 2

Dad called jeferson 'purple rain prince guy'

Seriously though the purple velvet was A Look

SUCH AN CRAZY Jefferson! Did loads of dancing and jumping and twirls is was so funny how he would just suddenly go into it

Ham snaked Washington when going in for a handshake he fully cut him off

I'm Take A Break they changed "John Adams doesn't have a real job anyway" to "the Vice President is not a real job anyway" which I think was changed so it's clearer to the audience who they're talking about

The cabinet battles were fab like I said before Westman was a calmer Hamilton but was more realistic 'We will reconvene after a brief reset' was said really sweetly to the audience like nothing was going wrong it was funny

Before Say No To This my friend just whispered Owh Dear really quietly and honestly? Mood

Christine Allado did a super sultry voice which was strong but deffo works for Maria.

The room where it happens was sick!!!

At one point the whole stage was in red lighting except for a bright white box that Burr was in it was so cool. Also VOCALS in this were amazing The Riffs!!!!

Cleve September as Phillip was cute you could really see the age difference between 9 and 19

The vocals in One Last Time we great "George Washington's going homeeeee" had me shook

In I Know Him King George seemed really crazy and manically smiled on 'that poor man their going to eat him alive'

And the crazy laughs at the end was brilliantly MANIC

He didn't leave at the end of his song just sat lower stage right and danced to the beginning of The Adams Administration which was funny but what was even better was that half way through his little introduction Burr noticed the king watching a gave him a odd look and the king just did a hand wave to tell him to continue and kept shimmying

WESTMAN'S VOICE IN HURRICANE WAS BEAUTIFUL

REYNOLDS PAMPHLET WAS FUNNY RVEN THOUGH I FELT BAD JEFFERSON LOOKED SO HAPPY AMD THE SET LOOKED REALLY COOL WITH ALL THE PAPERD FLYINV AROUND HAM BUT I COULDN'T EVEN FOCUS ON ANGELICAS BiT BECAUSE I WAS BUSY LAUGHING AT KING GEORGE DANCING WITH THE CHORUS AND ADDING HIS ONE SHEET IF PAPER TO THE MESS

oh but I loved was when Angelica arrived and the ensemble too way her bags in one motion it was slick and I enjoyed it

Burn was nice but I think Rachelle Ann Go made it a bit too vibrato-y which became kind of annoying (also I kinda felt though the entire thing she was forcing a really classical voice which was nice but didn't really work) her voice is amazing though apart from that and I really felt the reserved sorta anger in the performance

Blow Is All Away was SAD I COULD HEAR EVERYONE ONE CRYING AROUND ME, good dying (lol) on September's part

I wasn't a fan of Eliza's scream/cry when Phillip died I'm not sure what it was I didn't like but her counting WITH him was PErFECT

It's Quiet Uptown is the saddest thing ever lemme tell you. I don't cry. I cannot remember the last time I cried, particularly not at normal sad things. I saw Les Mis two weeks ago and didn't even get tear-y, so you can imagine how freaking sad this song has to be to get me to almost cry. I had pretty watery eyes and one hell of a snotty nose. It was bad. The lines like 'the unimaginable' were the worst. If you thing the cast recording is sad just wait until you see it live

After Jefferson came in with "can we get back to politics" he said it like he was tired of all the sad personal stuff which was funny and the Madison came on saying please and his voice broke like he had been crying at It's Quiet Uptown as well which was funny and it provided some well needed comic relief

When ham said he was voting for Jefferson Jeff did his twirls and dances again which was great and burr looked SO MAD

Your Obedient Servant was passive aggressive af it was great. And the ensemble was doing like lighthearted ballet and around them which actually worked really well Line change from "weehawkin, dawn" to "New Jersey, dawn" I'm assuming cos they've mentioned New Jersey more so it was clearer? Idk

Like I already said Best if Wives And Best of Women was 10/10 perfect

Ok so the world was wide enough Giles Terra (Burr) didn't do The Line™ in a really emotional way he did IT angry bc let's be honest you don't wanna compete yourself to Leslie on that so I enjoyed the change. HAMS SPEACH WHEN HE GEST SHOT IS SO GOOD I COULD NOT DEAL WITH IT

Also the choreo when Burr says "they row job back across the Hudson" they did this cool rowing move next to Ham and with the revolve it looked like they were on a boat!

I thought Eliza was quite good in WLWDWTYS "the orphanage" is such a nice bit

The gasp at the end was not made clear however. I understand it as Eliza seeing the audience and realising that her work has come true and that the legacy continues right? I only know that bc I read it beforehand, I think it could have been made clearer by the house lights come if up slightly so the audience knows Eliza seeing us. Also the way the gasp/hand move was done it made it seam Eliza was about to go into some really stereotypical opera singing? I just think she could have referenced the audience more but it's a really cute idea that I like.

All the cast bowed at the same time it was so cute and important bc everyone put in so much effort and they all deserved to be together

Straight up standing ovation oc

The play out music at the end was a really jazzy mashup of the songs and if my brain had been fully functioning after the show I would remember what songs but it was sick and they did the classic bum bumbumbum bum bum bum! At the end and the red and white bulls eye lighting they had for the duels flashed it was sick

SPEAKING OF LIGHTING IT WAS INCREDIBLE

THERE WAS LIKE A LIGHTING CUE EVERY 3 SECONDS I DINT KNOW HOW THAY MANAGED IT BUT IT WAS ALL SO WELL THOUGHT OUT AND CLEVER LIKE THERE WAS LITTLE LIGHTS AROUND THE EDGES LIKE STREET GRATES THAT IF LIKE BURR WAS IN ONE SIDE IF THE STAGE AND HAM ON OTHER THE GRATES WOULD BE ORANGE ON ONE SIDE AND BLUE ON THE OTHER. EVERY. SINGLE. DETAIL. Yes I'm gonna rant bc techies don't get enough respect

I've definitely missed so many things I wanted to put here but I was quite overwhelmed which I think is understandable when I've been waiting for over two years for it but it was so so worth it.

Ok I'm done I might add more if I remember goodnight folks

#Hamilton #Hamilton West End #personal #thoughts #refff #musicals #Alexander Hamilton #Aaron Burr #Lin Manuel Miranda

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estherroberts · 8 years ago

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spin the bottle

part of advanced PLACEMENT: an ars PARADOXICA high school au about a gang of queer teen nerds, by @estherroberts , @podcastmecaptain , and @lizzieraindrops

all three of the aformentioned dorks are equally responsible for the hijinks found in this post.

click here for the au masterpost | track #ars placement for updates!

so when last we left our heroes:

esther, bridget, sally, anthony, helen, jack, and penny are at chuck e cheese’s, wasted.

quentin and june have taken off

chet, the night manager, at one point thinks esther and jack are a couple, there’s uproarious laughter

(jack is mildly pleased that chet read him as a guy though, and tells esther)

(she mimes waving a gay flag and smiles)

(“but no seriously i would never date you” “god, ew, gross, no”)

(he visibly shudders)

helen comments that the manager’s kind of cute

anthony, freaking, dips chet in response to that and lays a kiss on him

big ol’ smackaroo

helen wolf whistles

chet almost doesn’t kick them out after that but He Has To

sally has to be dragged out bc she’s laughing too hard

they show up at june’s doorstep bc her parents are out of town and they’re all still super drunk

(halfway there they turned around because they forgot anthony)

(even though it’s literally his van)

(esther loudly whispers that she thinks there’s someone missing, helen does a headcount and tells her she’s right, but who)

(bridget quietly mumbles that it might be anthony? wasn’t he by the whack-a-mole?)

(penny is the designated driver and she takes some convincing to turn around)

when they get there, june’s irritated bc she and quentin had just escaped them but she lets them all in once she sees that helen’s there, too

“HI HELEN - and, uh, everyone”

esther’s already inside, she starts making pancakes

bridget comes to help her after she breaks an egg on the floor

and then someone finds a bottle of rosé and sally’s like “We Can’t Drink that we’re already drunk”

anthony: “then what THE HELL do we do with i—ooHHHHH HEY HELEN I’VE GOT AN IDEA"

“is this anything like your last idea because i’m not taking you to the hospital-”

“what no no this is way better”

jack sits on the kitchen counter

bridget has her head in esther’s lap and esther’s playing with her hair

june is fully leaning on quentin

helen sits in the fanciest chair and anthony is at her feet

sally found a spinny chair and is Constantly spinning in it

penny is sprawled on her stomach on the floor, kicking her feet in the air

sally was momentarily horrified at the prospect of spin the bottle because kissing is gross, but she’s much happier when they told her she didn’t actually have to kiss anyone to play

sally’s rules: any kind of affectionate contact is acceptable on your turn but no hugging

because anthony’s hugs last hours

the lesbians don’t have to kiss boys on the lips

if the couples get each other they have a time limit and a hand traveling limit

jack and quentin kiss

“jack how was it?”

“soft”

esther is in hysterical tears

lots more under the read more!

penny squishes sally’s cheeks and then gives her butterfly kisses until she starts giggling ‘cause it tickles

june usually bites people

it’s not fun at all

for anyone

jack: “ not soft :O ”

and then esther spins her, and gets up and it’s, like, fuck, a real makeout kiss

it’s Intense. super intense.

everyone is just a little uncomfy with it

bridget is actually hurt, (or at least, has esther convinced that she is) helen smiles coyly, and quentin is simply mystified

esther whispers something in bridget’s ear to reassure her and bridget blushes and later, they disappear to who knows where (we know where)

sally starts narrating like Steve Irwin

“ah she’s got some beautiful teeth on her this one, look out!” when june bites yet another hapless soul

“AND HERE WE HAVE IN THE WILD AUSTRALIAN LIVING ROOM BUSHWHACK OUTBACK, THE MATING RITUALS OF THESE PRIMITIVE CREATURES COMMENCES. LOOK AT THOSE NERD MARKINGS ON ITS T-SHIRT, SURELY AN ATTRACTIVE PROSPECT FOR THIS BEAUT”

“sally i swear to g OD”

“look! this one’s venom sacs have dropped”

“SA LLY”

sally only stops after june lands on her, gets up, kneels in front of the spinny chair, and intently stares her right in the eye for a solid minute from only like a few inches away

it’s dead quiet for that minute and nobody moves, sally doesn’t even spin the chair - until june suddenly boops her on the nose and she falls out of the chair with a squeak of surprise

every time quentin kisses someone it’s very delicate and most people wind up blushing

penny and helen kiss and it’s short and sweet and penny winks at helen after and she blushes for like 10 minutes

anthony gets the Softest forehead tap from sally and then she drunkenly pats his face

pat pat

esther delicately kisses both of sally’s cheeks, sally giggles

sally spins esther right after that and pinches both of esther’s cheeks until she laughs

sally gets the LOUDEST HIGH FIVE EVER FROM JACK

(the two of them make a point of high fiving all extra like that from then on and everyone else Regrets)

esther and jack salsa dance up to each other, and she kisses him on the nose

he kisses her hand like she’s a princess, she cries

he does a silly little bow and once he sits back down, giggles so hard he almost falls off the counter but he’s also tearing up

when helen spins anthony she just leans down so he’s still at her feet

he swoons

bridget tangles her hands with sally’s and kisses her fingers

quentin grabs penny’s hands and spins her around in a few dance steps because he’s not sure if she’s actually down with kissing him or not but she surprises him with a peck on the lips and he makes a little !!! sound

bridget and june is payback for esther and esther sufffFFERS

this is largely because june has returned to biting her victims

and well, bridget. moans.

esther, who is rapidly turning beet red, covers her face with her hands and lets out a gurgle of frustration

everyone else laughs

bridget ruffles jack’s hair

sally spins quentin and they do a double fistbump followed by simultaneous dramatic fingerguns

“come on, quentin, fist bump, fist bump, eeEEEYYYYYY!”

helen bestows a kiss on sally’s forehead and she is #blessed

bridget and helen is GODLY

it’s like, a three minute forehead touch while gazing into each other’s eyes and then they actually kiss

bridget and penny, PURE

anthony and jack

they both snark at each other in between kissing and just stop because they’re giggling too hard

“this is weird” “stfu” “the people deserve a better show than this”

“ANTHONY YOU KISS LIKE A DOG YOU’RE SO BRISTLY” “how would you know what kissing a dog feels like” “shut up and give me your stupid beard burn” “oh really i thought that was blushing- HEY HANDS A LITTLE HIGHER BUDDY”

helen films it

jack winks at the camera and gives anthony a damn hickey

the whole time anthony is bitching about it and but he’s swearing. an. an awful lot let’s be real.

(anthony is gonna get some weird looks tomorrow with jack’s hickey on his neck and june’s teeth marks on his lip)

penny spins esther, esther says “hey jack i’m gonna kiss your girlfriend better than you ever could.”

“STFU ESTHER”

“jack babe, take notes”

wee ap student jack goes for the notepad instinctively and then stops himself angrily

sally is actually taking notes

they just say “ew” and later down “double ew”

anthony: “what the fuck are you writing”

“i’m chronologizingisming like, whatever the fuck, this is"

“it JUST SAYS EW AND DOUBLE EW”

“IT’S SCIENCE”

btw, bridget is totally loopy by the time esther and penny kiss

this is after esther has MORE THAN MADE up for kissing june and bridget is very tired and very drunk and very in love with her girlfriend and she’s just, like, in a ball, laughing

helen actually fully makes out with esther, esther is Shook, and helen is suave

esther makes eye contact with bridget while it’s happening like “IS THIS REAL” and bridget laughs harder

the gang is starting to get worried about her because she’s barely breathing in between giggles

luckily, anthony lands on bridget next

he picks her up and spins her around singing the “i’m just a little black raincloud” song and kisses her forehead

which helps a bit

helen films this, too

helen spins june, and even though most of the gang has seen them kiss before, they’re reminded again that this is GOD KISSING THE DEVIL and they should consider themselves privileged to witness it

#ars placement #ars paradoxica #sally grissom #esther roberts #anthony partridge #helen partridge #june barlowe #jack wyatt #bridget chambers #quentin barlowe #penny wise #podcastmecaptain #lizzieraindrops #high school au #modern au

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igot7idiot7 · 8 years ago

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Lonely Hearts Club

Pairing: Jinyoung x Reader

Words: 1434

Genre: ummm… i rlly dont know???

Summary: You had a troublesome past with love, so you created the Lonely Hearts Club. To your dismay a really cute boy joined and oh shit.

A/N: Just a side thing that I thought of the other day. Based off of Lonely Hearts Club by Marina and the Diamonds bc i can apparently only write when i get ideas from music lmao gbye me. p.s. F/N is friend’s name bc i dont want to write in idols cause im lazy bye

Sitting on desks wasn’t necessarily allowed at school, let alone the teacher’s desk, but when the teacher’s gone, the students will play. As the gracious club president, asserting your dominance over the room full of teenagers was vital. You were sorta known for being stoic and against love. They weren’t completely off, you just weren’t fond of it due to a few unkind incidents in your past. You were simply just okay with not finding a lover anytime soon. It didn’t matter though, as long as your club had members, that’s all you cared for.

Five minutes have passed and you look around to see the room full yet again. Slowly you lifted yourself from the teacher’s desk, motioning with your head for your vice president to join you at the front of the room.

“Alright kiddos, today we ar-” A balled up piece of paper hit your VP on cheek. The class lit up with laughter and giggles. She picked it up and looked out into the large group of teens, hoping she can find out who the hell threw it at her. She glared but no one was going to admit to doing it. The paper crumbled more under her grip before she decided to just throw it away.

“As F/N was saying… today we don’t have much planned except talk about how shitty the last episode of Empress Ki was so, unless you guys have some other idea, then feel free to exit.” You explained loudly.

Suddenly the room became loud again, everyone was trying to think up of ideas for today’s meeting. It was rather hot outside, and everyone needed a reason to stay inside where the cool air is. Ideas were thrown left and right, but none of them struck you as amazing.

A boy, probably a senior, soon looked towards your direction and slowly stood up. His dark hair was pushed back showing his magnificently thick eyebrows. The more you looked at him, the more you believed he was an actual Disney prince. His lips were perfectly plump forming just the smallest of smiles. He was clearly toned under the Beatles shirt he was wearing, due to it being just slightly too big for him, but fitting around his arms perfectly.

“That sounds like a great idea! Right, Y/N?” F/N nudged you in the side.

You shook your head, trying to shake away imagining the boy in the back row, singing with animals in hanbok. “Yeah that was a great idea– umm?”

“Jinyoung.” He said going back into his seat.

F/N turned to you and whispered in your ear, “You didn’t hear a word he said did you?”

“I got distracted he looks like a Disney prince. i can just see him singing with a bunch of woodland forest animals”

“Okay you have a point.”

It was hard for you to admit that you might be getting feelings for a boy. A few years back- you remember it like it was yesterday- you had the biggest crush on another, and he liked you too. Or so you thought. It took months of gathering courage on your part so officially ask him if he had the same feelings. When he replied with a ‘yes’, your heart was filled with a joy that no words could explain. Eventually a few weeks later he would ask you on a date, but that was when you were the busiest with life. You had to deny him a few times before you finally had free time. That’s when you tried to ask him out, and he denied, him being at his busiest. You hadn’t given up when summer came around though, you tried to keep contact with him, but the messages got shorter, the long conversations turned to small talk, the nicknames turned to first names, and then they ended. Summer came to a close, and finally it was time to see him again, but you didn’t. Instead, you had to hear from a friend that he ‘Only likes Koreans. He also only liked you out of pity.’ That was the day you decided love was never worth the effort.

Time slowly went by as your final year in school came to its winter break. Lonely Hearts Club lost members as time went on and the teens found love, best friends, or people to cling to. One person though, he still hasn’t left, and he stayed gorgeous the entire time. You couldn’t stop staring at him each time. His perfectly clear skin, full lips, messy hair, princely attitude, gentlemanly actions; basically he was the whole package. But, there is no chance you would ever admit to liking him.

What you didn’t know was that he liked you too. He thought the way you would ‘stare off into space’ was beautiful. The way you bit your lip when you were stuck in thought. The way you blasted music in your earbuds so you couldn't hear people around you. How you weren't afraid to sass him back with the same sass he used on you. He loved just about everything about you. There was nothing he could name that he didn't like about you; well maybe the fact you weren't his. He was scared to confess to you though, you were the president of the Lonely Hearts Club, you’ve stated so many times that you didn’t want to fall in love. He wasn't about to let you go though.

Now here you both are, facing each other in one of the alleyways that the classrooms made. You could hear his faint breathing. His heart was beating so hard, it was amazing that you couldn’t see his pounding heart reaching out of his chest to meet yours. The sun was hidden behind heavy clouds, but that didn’t stop small beads of sweat forming above the dark hairs of his thick eyebrows.

He pushed his fingers through his dark and slightly curly hair, “Y/N…“ His eyes darted from your face to the floor, "There’s so much I want to say, but its hard to say it in person. So…”

“Jinyoung, is everything okay? You don’t have to talk to me personally if you’re leaving the club, y'know?” You smiled softly at him. “If that’s all, I gotta get to class.”

Turning away, tears started to fill your eyes. Once again, you thought, Love proves itself useless. You took small steps towards your class, fighting the urge to let waterworks happen at school. A soft pitter patter of rain started to hit the ground. Best to forget Jinyoung in that light, it wouldn’t have worked out anyways; he is too princely for you. A tear fell from your eye, you knew that the rain would hide the tears, but not the swelling of your eyes.

Hard footsteps came after you and stopped in front of you. He stiffened at the sight of your swollen eyes, and took a mental note to never make you cry again. “Take this at least. It should explain more.” Jinyoung handed you an envelope with your name written in beautiful calligraphy, and a rose drawn in the corner. When you looked back up he had already left the scene. You were now left alone in the rain with your thoughts and a loud bell. One minute till class starts.

You slid into your seat right before the late bell rang. The teacher was late, which gave you just enough time to open the letter Jinyoung handed to you. You gingerly tore open the already wrinkling envelope. With careful hand you opened the folded letter that read:

Dearest Y/N,

I’m sorry I can’t bring myself to say it to you in person. I’m better at writing things out anyways, but for the past 4 months, I think I’ve fallen for you.

Everything about you is perfect. Even if you think that the way you crinkle your nose when you smile is weird. Even if you think you laugh too loud. Even if you think your hair is a mess. Even if I know you will never love me back.

It’s fun to fantasize that one day maybe you will. Hopefully this short note to you will get my feelings to your heart. Until then, I will watch you from afar, and will respect any distance you may wish to take.

Best Wishes,

Jinyoung

P.S. Check one

[ ] Give Me Time

[ ] I don’t see you that way, and probably won’t.

[ ] We’re better as friends

[ ] I like you too.

You quickly checked the very last one, with a happy smile.

#jinyoung x reader #junior x reader #jr x reader #jinyoung imagines #jinyoung scenarios #got7 imagines #got7 scenarios #got7 fanfics #jinyoung fanfics #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop fanfics #i got the sad love story from a personal expierence #fuck cute boy tbh

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emmagreen1220-blog · 6 years ago

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New Post has been published on Literary Techniques

New Post has been published on https://literarytechniques.org/epiphany-in-literature/

Epiphany in Literature

Epiphany is a mystical revelation, a profound insight gained when one suddenly grasps the essence of a mundane object, statement, moment, or gesture—that is, when one suddenly sees these things for what they truly are, their essence, their actual nature. The writer who introduced this term into literary criticism, James Joyce (as he indicates through his alter-ego in Stephen Hero) “believed that it was for the man of letters to record these epiphanies with extreme care, seeing that they themselves are the most delicate and evanescent of moments.” Irrespective of Joyce’s advice or precisely because of it, many authors have done just that, documenting (or inventing) some of the best-known and life-altering epiphanies in the history of human ideas. Here are 10 of them.

10 Examples of Epiphany in Literature

Example #1: The Epic of Gilgamesh (c. 2100 BC)

When they arrived at Uruk the strong-walled, Gilgamesh then spoke to Urshanabi, the ferryman, (and said): ‘Urshanabi, ascend and walk about on the wall of Uruk, inspect the corner-stone, and examine its brick-work, whether its wall is not made of burned brick, and its foundation laid by the Seven Sages. One third for city, one third for garden, one third for field, and a precinct for the temple of Ishtar. These parts and the precinct comprise Uruk.’

There are at least three epiphanic moments in the earliest surviving work of literature. The first one occurs in the very first book of the epic, when Enkidu, a primitive man who eats and runs with the beasts, is seduced by Shamhat, a temple prostitute; after six days and six nights in her embrace, Enkidu realizes that his strength has been “diminished,” but also that he has somehow, in the meantime, acquired judgment and has become wiser. Gilgamesh is the one who experiences the second epiphany, soon after the death of his (by then) faithful friend, Enkidu; suddenly, Gilgamesh becomes aware that he is mortal and that he will one day inevitably die as well (Books VIII and IX). So, he embarks on a mission to become immortal, but the rejuvenating plant he obtains with much effort eventually gets eaten by a snake. And that’s when Gilgamesh’s final epiphany occurs. As he and his ferryman Urshanabi reach Uruk, watching the city walls he had once built, Gilgamesh utters the words above. They signify his realization that, in a way, he has already reached immortality: though he will ultimately die, his creation, the divine walls of Uruk, will remain long after he’s gone. No wonder the “ars longa, vita brevis” motif is such a common topic in literature!

Example #2: Laurence Sterne, Tristram Shandy (1767)

I was but ten years old when this happened: but whether it was, that the action itself was more in unison to my nerves at that age of pity, which instantly set my whole frame into one vibration of most pleasurable sensation;—or how far the manner and expression of it might go towards it;—or in what degree, or by what secret magic,—a tone of voice and harmony of movement, attuned by mercy, might find a passage to my heart, I know not;—this I know, that the lesson of universal good-will then taught and imprinted by my uncle Toby, has never since been worn out of my mind: And tho’ I would not depreciate what the study of the Literae humaniores, at the university, have done for me in that respect, or discredit the other helps of an expensive education bestowed upon me, both at home and abroad since;—yet I often think that I owe one half of my philanthropy to that one accidental impression.

Taken from Laurence Sterne’s picaresque novel Tristram Shandy, the excerpt above describes “possibly the first non-religious epiphany in English literature” (Wim Tigges). It occurs in the twelfth chapter of the second volume of the book, and it follows an extremely trivial moment: Tristram’s uncle Toby setting free a “caught at last” fly “which had buzzed about his nose, and tormented him cruelly all dinner-time.” Lifting up the sash and opening his hand to let it escape, “go,” says Toby, “go, poor devil, get thee gone, why should I hurt thee? – This world surely is wide enough to hold both thee and me.” As you can read here, this event left such a profound impression upon the young Tristram that he credits half of the philanthropy of his adult self to it.

Example #3: Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust, Part One, 775-784 (1808)

An unbelievably sweet yearning Drove me to roam through wood and lea, Crying, and as my eyes were burning, I felt a new world grow in me. This song proclaimed the spring feast’s free delight, appealing To the gay games of youth-they plead: Now memory entices me with childlike feeling Back from the last, most solemn deed. Sound on, oh hymns of heaven, sweet and mild! My tears are flowing; earth, take back your child! (Tr. Walter Kauffman)

Despairing at his inability to transcend the confines of human knowledge, at the beginning of Goethe’s marvelous play Faust, the title character decides to commit suicide. However, just as he is about to drink a lethal amount of poison—the bowl already pressed to his lips—he hears the chime of the Easter bells and a few choral songs celebrating the rebirth of Christ. Even though not a believer (“Although I hear the message, I lack all faith or trust”), Faust is suddenly overcome with an incredibly sweet feeling which brings tears to his eyes; at first he is confused as to why the Easter bells should have such an effect on him, but he soon realizes that it is because they had involuntarily reminded him of his childhood days when “heaven’s love rushed at [him] as a kiss” and “every prayer brought impassioned bliss.” The epiphanic experience is so strong that, in a second, it inspires Faust to rethink his decision to kill himself and embrace life yet again. By the way, it can be argued that there is nothing more central to Goethe’s greatest work than the power of epiphany; Faust, after all, agrees to give his soul to Mephistopheles only if the latter one provides him with an atemporal experience, i.e., a moment to which he should say: “Abide, you are so fair” (1700). He does do that on two different occasions—but in both cases, his soul is saved.

Example #4: George Eliot, Middlemarch (1872)

She opened her curtains, and looked out towards the bit of road that lay in view, with fields beyond outside the entrance-gates. On the road there was a man with a bundle on his back and a woman carrying her baby; in the field she could see figures moving—perhaps the shepherd with his dog. Far off in the bending sky was the pearly light; and she felt the largeness of the world and the manifold wakings of men to labor and endurance. She was a part of that involuntary, palpitating life, and could neither look out on it from her luxurious shelter as a mere spectator, nor hide her eyes in selfish complaining.

In Epiphany in the Modern Novel, Morris Beja rightly claims that “novelists before James and Conrad, say, did not use moments of revelation to the same extent, or with the same emphasis—and certainly not with the same distinct effect—as many modern novelists do.” However, he does point out that authors such as Dickens, George Eliot, and Hardy “wrote novels which contain such moments.” The excerpt above, taken from the 80th chapter of the 8th book of Middlemarch, is enough evidence of this. In it, a casual gaze through the curtains—which reveals to her images of “pearly light” and “figures moving”—opens the eyes of Dorothea Casaubon to “the largeness of the world” and inspires her to start feeling as if a part of—as Walter Pater would say—“the fullness of existence.” Beja’s point is that Woolf or Joyce would have probably ended their short stories or novels here, allowing the reader to experience the full weight of the epiphany by means of an open end; in the case of Eliot, however, as Wim Tigges notes, one is left wondering whether Dorothea is even aware of her revelatory experience as epiphany.

Example #5: Anton Pavlovich Chekhov, “The Student” (1894)

The student thought again that if Vasilisa had shed tears, and her daughter had been troubled, it was evident that what he had just been telling them about, which had happened nineteen centuries ago, had a relation to the present—to both women, to the desolate village, to himself, to all people. The old woman had wept, not because he could tell the story touchingly, but because Peter was near to her, because her whole being was interested in what was passing in Peter’s soul. And joy suddenly stirred in his soul, and he even stopped for a minute to take breath. ‘The past,’ he thought, ‘is linked with the present by an unbroken chain of events flowing one out of another.’ And it seemed to him that he had just seen both ends of that chain; that when he touched one end the other quivered. (Tr. Constance Garnett)

In Anton Chekhov’s charming 1894 short story “The Student”—which the author considered both a favorite of his and a “manifesto for optimism”—the 22-year-old title character, Ivan Velikopolsky, while returning home from shooting, happens upon Vasilisa and Lukerya, a mother and a daughter, both widowed. It is the evening of Good Friday, and Ivan is “the son of a sacristan, and a student of the clerical academy,” so the obligatory greetings quickly evolve into Ivan recounting to the two women the story of the Denial of Peter. Both of them are deeply moved: big tears start flowing down Vasilisa’s cheeks, and Lukerya’s face becomes “strained and heavy like that of someone enduring intense pain.” As you can see yourself in the excerpted paragraph, this is what leads to Ivan’s epiphany, to his realization that all of history must be connected in some way, and that “truth and beauty… had continued without interruption to this day.” Chekhov’s ends the short story with a description of the otherworldly feeling which overwhelms Ivan upon this realization, with one of the simplest and most beautiful depictions of the internal realm of an epiphanic experience: “…the inexpressible sweet expectation of happiness, of unknown mysterious happiness, took possession of him little by little, and life seemed to him enchanting, marvelous, and full of lofty meaning.”

Example #6: Kate Chopin, “The Story of an Hour” (1894)

Now her bosom rose and fell tumultuously. She was beginning to recognize this thing that was approaching to possess her, and she was striving to beat it back with her will—as powerless as her two white slender hands would have been. When she abandoned herself, a little whispered word escaped her slightly parted lips. She said it over and over under her breath: ‘free, free, free!’ The vacant stare and the look of terror that had followed it went from her eyes. They stayed keen and bright. Her pulses beat fast, and the coursing blood warmed and relaxed every inch of her body. She did not stop to ask if it were or were not a monstrous joy that held her. A clear and exalted perception enabled her to dismiss the suggestion as trivial.

Louise Mallard, the heroine of Kate Chopin’s somewhat controversial short story “The Story of an Hour,” is afflicted with heart trouble, which is why the news of her husband’s death is broken to her as gently as possible. Devastated, Mrs. Mallard retreats to her room, where she despondently awaits for her grief to either subside or kill her. “There was something coming to her,” remarks Chopin, “and she was waiting for it, fearfully. What was it? She did not know; it was too subtle and elusive to name. But she felt it, creeping out of the sky, reaching toward her through the sounds, the scents, the color that filled the air.” And then suddenly that “something coming to her” shows its face: Mrs. Mallard is overcome with an unexpected sense of relief and freedom. She leaves the room triumphantly but, as she descends the stairs, her husband suddenly enters the room: the news of his death was false. Upon seeing him, Mrs. Mallard’s heart gives up; ironically, the doctors say that “she had died of heart disease—of the joy that kills.”

Example #7: Joseph Conrad, Lord Jim (1900)

I kept him company; and suddenly, but not abruptly […] he pronounced, ‘Mon Dieu! how the time passes!’ Nothing could have been more commonplace than this remark; but its utterance coincided for me with a moment of vision. It’s extraordinary how we go through life with eyes half shut, with dull ears, with dormant thoughts. […] Nevertheless, there can be but few of us who had never known one of those rare moments of awakening when we see, hear, understand ever so much—everything—in a flash—before we fall back again into our agreeable somnolence. I raised my eyes when he spoke, and I saw him as though I had never seen him before.

Reviewing Joseph Conrad’s Lord Jim for the 26 July 1917 edition of The Times Literary Supplement, Virginia Woolf excerpts the passage above and says that it is “one of those passages… which interests us almost more for what they reveal of the writer than for any light they throw on the story.” In it, Marlow is drinking with “that French naval officer who appears very distinctly for a few pages and then drops out altogether” and experiences an enlightening revelation (excerpted here), even though its trigger is a pretty commonplace remark: “how the time passes!” The “moment of vision,” Woolf continues, is such which allows Conrad himself to see his own characters “as if he had never seen them before; he expounds his vision, and we see it, too. These visions are the best things in his books.” At about the time Woolf wrote this, Joyce settled on a name to describe these visions: epiphanies.

Example #8: Robert Musil, The Confusions of Young Törless (1906)

He was standing very straight, as proudly as if he were the judge here; and he looked straight ahead, past the men facing him—he could not bear the sight of this ridiculous assembly. There outside the window was a crow, perching on a branch. Apart from that there was nothing but the vast white plain. He felt that the moment had come when he would talk clearly, coherently, and triumphantly of the things that had at first been vague and tormenting within him, and later had been lifeless, without force. (Tr. Eithne Wilkins and Ernst Kaiser)

The Confusions of Young Törless is the unjustly overlooked literary debut of Robert Musil, whose magnum opus, The Man Without Qualities, is widely considered one of the most important novels of the 20th century. A bildungsroman, The Confusions of Young Törless is set in an Austrian boarding school, where three students— Reiting, Beineberg, and Törless—catch their classmate Basini stealing money, and, instead of turning him over, decide to punish him themselves. As time passes, Reiting and Beineberg torture Basini ever more sadistically, and Törless (who is mostly an onlooker) grows disgusted with the three of them. Eventually, at the advice of Törless, Basini turns himself in, and the matter is investigated by the school authorities. While being questioned by them, Törless seems disinterested in defending himself, as he suddenly realizes that there is “something quite weird” in him; “as though soliloquizing,” with eyes fixed on some far distance, he proceeds to give the board an inspired—but utterly irrelevant—speech on his unique capability to “see things in two different ways.” Even though nobody but Törless grasps its depth, it is evident to everybody that he has experienced some sort of epiphany at this moment, since the words and the figures of speech he uses are far beyond what is appropriate to his age, and yet they flow “easily and naturally from his lips in this state of vast excitement he was in, in this moment of almost poetic inspiration.” In the end, he is deemed too intelligent for punishment—and even for the institute itself.

Example #9: H. P. Lovecraft, “The Outsider” (1921)

Nearly mad, I found myself yet able to throw out a hand to ward off the foetid apparition which pressed so close; when in one cataclysmic second of cosmic nightmarishness and hellish accident my fingers touched the rotting outstretched paw of the monster beneath the golden arch. I did not shriek, but all the fiendish ghouls that ride the nightwind shrieked for me as in that same second there crashed down upon my mind a single fleeting avalanche of soul-annihilating memory. I knew in that second all that had been; I remembered beyond the frightful castle and the trees, and recognized the altered edifice in which I now stood; I recognized, most terrible of all, the unholy abomination that stood leering before me as I withdrew my sullied fingers from its own.

In H. P. Lovecraft’s most commonly reprinted short story “The Outsider,” the unnamed title character tells us that he has spent all his life alone living in an abandoned, decaying castle, surrounded with fabulously high trees which block out all sunlight. In search for companionship, he decides one day to leave his ruined home and, after wandering through desolate realms, he eventually encounters a group of partygoers. However, upon his joining the party, the people start screaming and fleeing from the room, seemingly afraid by some monster, the appearance of which is so ugly (“a compound of all that is unclean, uncanny, unwelcome, abnormal, and detestable”) that the narrator himself is utterly abhorred. However, when he accidentally touches the creature, he is swiftly overawed by one of the unholiest epiphanies in world literature: in that second, he understands all that had been and all that is but would rather not to. Because, as we learn in the final sentence of the short story, what he touches at the party is not another being, but “a cold and unyielding surface of polished glass.”

Example #10: Katherine Mansfield, “The Garden Party” (1922)

There lay a young man, fast asleep—sleeping so soundly, so deeply, that he was far, far away from them both. Oh, so remote, so peaceful. He was dreaming. Never wake him up again. His head was sunk in the pillow, his eyes were closed; they were blind under the closed eyelids. He was given up to his dream. What did garden-parties and baskets and lace frocks matter to him? He was far from all those things. He was wonderful, beautiful. While they were laughing and while the band was playing, this marvel had come to the lane. Happy… happy… All is well, said that sleeping face. This is just as it should be. I am content.

At the beginning of Katherine Mansfield’s most celebrated short story, “The Garden Party,” we find the Sheridans in the midst of their preparations to host a lavish party for their wealthy friends. However, soon after rearranging the furniture, they learn about the death of their working-class neighbor, Mr. Scott. The only one even superficially affected by this seems to be Laura, Mrs. Sheridan’s daughter, whose suggestion for the party to be called off is not accepted by the rest of her family. However, after its conclusion, Mrs. Sheridan sends Laura with a basket full of leftovers to the Scotts. And there, looking at the face of the deceased man, Laura suddenly experiences something sublime and “marvelous,” something difficult to be put into words. “Isn’t life,” she stammers through tears to her brother Laurie, “isn’t life—” “But what life was,” adds Mansfield, “she couldn’t explain. No matter. He quite understood. ‘Isn’t it, darling?’ said Laurie.”

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