#but my gods I can’t stop seeing parallels

[percivaljacksons]

those little town blues (pt 1)

the modern percabeth ghost whisperer au. girl, at this point you have to trust me. first 5k or so as i edit the big mama doc for ao3. sorry not sorry to tease! i'd give this section a t rating

“For someone who just moved here, you really know your way around,” Piper says. “I absolutely thought you were taking us to the wrong platform.” 

Two descending notes play through the speaker above their heads. The Q train’s doors slide closed. The breaks release in a puffy exhale and the car lurches as they begin to move out of the Canal St station. 

Annabeth shrugs. “I like research,” she says. “Figured if I was going to do the whole ‘move to New York as a broke twenty-something,’ I might as well be prepared for it.”

“What a load of baloney,” Percy says from somewhere behind her. “You were walking right for the Downtown platform, too. You could say ‘thank you,’ by the way.”

Piper doesn’t react—of course she doesn’t. She just tells Annabeth with a sheepish smile, “more than I did. God, this is so embarrassing, but I really did Uber everywhere for my first few weeks.”

“Asshole,” Percy cuts in again. “I can’t stand people who do that.”

Annabeth kicks one foot back as subtly as possible. She doesn’t feel it connect with his shin, but he does quiet down.

“You’re getting the hang of it,” Annabeth reassures her. “Silena said you moved here—what, two months before me?”

“Something like that.”

“Plus, I did a lot of exploring in the past few weeks and got turned around a lot of times. You’re seeing a well made facade.”

“Is that how you found that Wo Hop?” Piper asks. “God, I can’t get over that tofu. And it was in some random basement!”

While Piper waxes poetic about their lunch, Annabeth’s eyes slide to the left. It’s not an overly crowded subway car. There’s a couple pouring over the map on the wall, a short man reading a book in the seat parallel to the window, and around a dozen solo commuters buried in phones or listening to music. 

But to Annabeth’s left, leaning against the door, is a man with short cropped hair and an angular jaw. His button up shirt is untucked, wrinkled, and saturated with blood. She has to breathe through her mouth because she can smell it wafting off of him. From the corner of her eye, she can spot the elderly woman trying to read over the shoulder of the man by the window, ranting a rant he can’t hear. And, of course, right behind her is Percy, dripping wet. 

“I really hope you’re not about to take credit for finding Wo Hop on your own,” he says. 

“...in an article, right?” Piper asks, forcing Annabeth to tune back in again.

“Yeah, about the James Beard Foundation Awards,” Annabeth says. “It’s officially an American Classic.”

“Fucking typical,” Percy says. “I’m not telling you where that halal cart is now.”

“So cool,” Piper enthuses. “I didn’t even realize how much food there was out there that I’ve never even tried, you know? This city is crazy.”

“Best city in the world,” Percy and Annabeth say in perfect unison. 

Of course, only Annabeth and Percy know that. 

//

It started on her third day in New York, because Annabeth has, in general, always had completely shit luck. With a week until her new job began and her boxes (almost) unpacked, she woke up to a sliver of perfect blue sky visible between the brick walls outside her window and decided to spend the day exploring. 

While she waited for the shower to heat up, she drank a glass of water—straight from the tap—and looked around her joke of a studio apartment. Despite the near negative space she now called her own for the next twelve months, her singular closet was pitifully half empty. 

Annabeth frowned into her water. Half full? She’d never had many clothes, was the point. The t-shirts and jeans she’d favored in high school had stopped fitting once she started doing track and field more seriously, and her college dorm room hadn’t offered an abundance of space, either. 

She wandered back to the bathroom and stuck a hand under the tap. Only lukewarm. The previous two days' experience told her she had another minute before it would get hot, so she took out her phone and googled thrift stores nyc. 

The results were almost too many to believe. She shook her head. 

“Best city in the world,” she said to herself, and finally stripped down to step into the shower. 

In the end, she chose a thrift store in lower Manhattan, a little to the east so it was on the yellow line and she wouldn’t have to transfer trains. It was close to Washington Square Park, too, so she could check that off her architecture bucket list. Just like that, she had a plan for the day—and Annabeth loved having a plan.

She flew down the four flights of stairs, keeping her eyes on her feet so she wouldn’t get drawn into whatever was going on with the man who always lingered on the second floor landing. He left something in his jacket pocket, but Annabeth had never stuck around long enough to hear what it was or who he needed to tell. She’d get around to it eventually. Probably.

After riding the N train two stops in the wrong direction, she managed to get on a Manhattan and Brooklyn bound W. It was all part of the learning curve. The car was near empty, so close to the origin in Astoria, so she found a seat by the window and watched as the lower buildings of northwest Queens morphed into the skyscrapers of Long Island City before the train finally went underground. She pulled a book out of her tote bag before long and focused her gaze on the paper, even though the letters were swirling around the page so aggressively that she couldn’t read a word. 

Her dyslexia always got worse when she was stressed. She turned a page in her book, a perfect pantomime of reading, so that the three ghosts standing within fifteen feet of her don’t realize that she can both see and hear them. 

Spirits, earthbound souls, whatever. They were all ghosts, really, haunting people or places or things. She thought maybe they were haunting this specific subway car, except a man in a navy suit got off at 59th street and one of them—the woman in bright red lipstick and a mink coat—followed him off. 

Annabeth kept looking at her book, flipping forward a page every minute or so. She had long ago perfected the half-glazed over expression that tricked most ghosts into thinking she was just like everyone else—unable to see them. It was a small part of the reason she’d decided to move to New York: everyone here had that expression on. Everyone here avoided eye contact on the sidewalk and went about their business, so maybe—just maybe—Annabeth wouldn’t acquire her usual ‘rude and standoffish’ reputation. 

One of the ghosts sat down next to her. He was mumbling in a language she didn't recognize. Hungarian, maybe—a relief. She wouldn’t have to try so hard to not react if he said something appalling. 

Annabeth turned to the next page in her book. She didn’t even remember what it was about. The stops got more frequent in Manhattan, crawling at times only five blocks between stations after Times Square, before the W finally pulled into 8th Street-NYU. 

Annabeth put her book back into her tote and stood, edging around the ghost’s legs with a mumbled, “excuse me.”

She realized her mistake two steps later, when the voice got panicked and excited, rapid-fire consonant heavy speech trying to get her attention again. Annabeth kept her head down and walked towards the closest exit like she knew it would take her where she wanted. It worked, either because he thought it was a fluke or he was tied enough to that train car to stay put, and when she walked up into the autumn sunlight she was once again alone. 

Not unhaunted. She was never really unhaunted, but she could be—however briefly—alone. 

Maps told her that the Buffalo Exchange was close, only a few blocks south. She made her way there, realized she was on the wrong side of the street, and blatantly jaywalked to get to her destination. One thing she certainly would not miss about California was driving and cars and mechanics. She hoped Clarisse would love the hunk of bolts Annabeth couldn’t have more joyously parted with.

The thrift store wasn’t too crowded inside, because it was around 11 on a Tuesday, so Annabeth took her time. She started in the back, sifting through women’s cut jeans and giving up quickly, moving to the men’s section in the front where the inseams were longer. She found a few potential successes, all dark wash enough that she could probably dress them up for work, and made her way towards one of the circular clothing racks in the middle of the shop. 

Annabeth hadn’t lived on the east coast since she was twelve, but she remembered the cold bite of the winters. She didn’t have nearly enough sweaters to get her through January and February, only a few short months away. A few hoodies with stains and holes got flipped past, but eventually she came across a maroon crewneck with a faded lettering that said MONTAUK. She threw it on over her shirt and managed to catch her reflection in a nearby mirror—exactly the kind of baggy she’s always preferred. Perfect. 

“That’s mine,” someone said.

Annabeth looked over and gasped. Standing next to her, soaked from head to foot, was a guy about her age. He was a bit taller, with dark hair plastered to his head and green eyes so bright they forced the air out of Annabeth’s lungs. Every inch of him was dripping water in the middle of the perfectly dry Buffalo Exchange.

“You can see me,” he realized, eyes getting wider. “You can actually—holy fuck.” 

She bought the sweater, in the end, because she stopped letting ghosts decide what she was and wasn’t going to do a long time ago. Percy—I’m Percy, by the way, can you still see me?— didn’t seem to mind, even as she ignored him and checked out with her new pants and sweater. 

“I know you can hear me,” Percy said, following her out the door. “You’re not a very good actor, you know.”

Annabeth pulled out her headphones and slipped them on. She fiddled with her phone, miming a call, and finally turned to face the very wet ghost beside her. 

“Percy, you said?” She asked. 

He grinned. “Yes! Yeah, I’m Percy. I can’t believe you can hear me. It’s, like, so great to talk to someone.”

“I’m Annabeth.” She didn’t reach out to shake his hand, because they wouldn’t be able to anyway. “I’m going to the park. Want to come?”

They walked the two blocks to the north side of the park, until Annabeth stood directly under Stanford White’s famous arch. She knew it already, of course—the Tuckahoe marble used to construct it, the fact that it commemorated the centennial of George Washington’s presidential address in 1789—but Annabeth’s favorite thing about architecture isn’t facts or materials. It’s the way she feels looking at it; it’s something about the innate nature of human beings and the way they just can’t help their desire to create.

She could see Percy out of the corner of her eye, watching her. As she stood there, her gaze still fixed upward, someone in a purple t-shirt walked right through him.

“Okay,” she finally said. “What’s your deal? Normally I’ve gotten a whole life story by now.”

“Normally,” he repeated. “This happen to you a lot?”

“Look, do you see a white light?” Annabeth asked, already losing her patience. 

“A what?”

“God, I can really pick ‘em,” Annabeth muttered to herself. “A white light. Bright, blinding even. Maybe a loved one standing there waiting for you? Walk into it.”

“I—what?” 

“Unless there’s something you’ve left unfinished?” Annabeth prompted. It usually went smoother if the ghost came to terms on their own, but this whole conversation was messing with Annabeth’s plan for the day. She wanted it over and done with.

“What are you talking about?” Percy asked, his accent hitting harder than it had before. His ah vowel was like an A and U and W smushed together. “Why are you the only one who can see me?”

Annabeth closed her eyes. “Fuck,” she said. “Seriously? This is just my luck.” She turned back to Percy, kind of vaguely relishing how no one around them seemed to care that she was talking to thin air. “You’re dead.”

Percy blinked at her. A drop of water made its way down the arch of his nose. “What?”

“I can see ghosts. Spirits. People who haven’t yet moved on.” She let that sink in for a moment, then added, “like you.”

“Moved on to what?” He asked, his voice getting louder with pure panic. 

“Your guess is as good as mine,” she said. “I’m not dead. I just have the pleasure of seeing all of you on your journey in between.”

“Fuck. What the fuck?” Percy started to pace, his hands on his head. “I can’t be dead! That’s such bullshit. I’ve never even left the tri-state area! And I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, lady—”

“Annabeth.”

“—Annabeth, because there ain’t no fuckin’ light, alright? There’s just this stupid park and a bunch of asshole NYU students walking right through me, and apparently, the only person who can see me is a goddamn Yankees fan, which is fucking rich. And!” He turned back to her, an almost triumphant expression on his face. “And I bet you you’re not from here, am I right? No shot.”

“I’m from…” Annabeth trailed off. She could’ve said Virginia, or the Bay Area, or something else. In the end, she just confirmed his suspicion. “I’m not from here, you’re right. This is my third day in New York.”

That made him laugh uproariously, too dramatic to be earnest, his hands flung out to the sides. “Of course! A fucking transplant in a Yankees hat. I can hardly believe my luck.”

With him standing facing her once more, Annabeth finally saw the logo made dark by his wet t-shirt. A baseball with dark blue skyline and orange piping, Mets written out across the front. 

“Are you done?” Annabeth asked. “I want to go see the narrowest house in the city next.”

“I’m not a tour guide,” he seethed.

“Which way is Bedford Street?”

He pointed behind him. “Like, six blocks that way.”

And so Annabeth’s first friend in the big city was a chronically damp, kind of asshole ghost named Percy.

//

“Silena said Piper liked you,” Clarisse says. They’re playing Battleship online as they FaceTime, both unwilling to admit that they want to talk for the sake of talking, and certainly unwilling to admit they might miss each other. 

It’s one thing to move across the country to an apartment you’ve never actually seen for the sake of a life you think you might like, and another to do it knowing you’ll leave behind the two best friends you’ve made in your entire twenty-two years on Earth. 

That are still alive, at least.

“She was cool,” Annabeth says. “So different from Silena, though. We got greasy Chinese food.”

Clarisse snorts. “Uh, yeah. Duh. Get sunk, by the way.” Her missile lands in open water. “Seriously? What the hell.”

“Be better,” Annabeth replies, confidently clicking on G3. Sure enough, a tiny explosion graphic goes off on G3. 

“What the—is there someone behind me giving you clues? I know that’s how you kept winning poker night in junior year—”

“I can’t see ghosts through FaceTime, that would be ridiculous,” Annabeth scoffs. 

“Oh, that’s ridiculous,” Clarisse scowls. “Sure.” One of her shots finally connects, but Annabeth’s still smiling, two ships in the lead. 

“Did I tell you I’ve got a new one?” Annabeth asks, pulling her fidget cube out from its drawer and flicking one side of it. 

“A Casper? No.”

“His name’s Percy. He’s wet.”

“Is that some kind of horrible New York slang?”

“What?” Annabeth laughs. “No, he’s actually wet. Like, dripping water.”

“That’s new.”

“Plus, he had no idea he was dead. Bizarre.”

Clarisse frowns. Clarisse always looks like she’s frowning, so it’s really hard to tell when she actually is, but at this point Annabeth’s had years of practice. “That’s happened before,” she says.

Annabeth gets a flash of sun-bleached blond hair and that awful scar in her mind’s eye before she manages to shove it back into the box in the corner of her mind. “S’not common, though,” she says. “Usually means the death was traumatic.” 

“Not to play Silena,” Clarisse says slowly, finally managing to figure out which way Annabeth’s submarine is pointing, “but should you be doing this?”

“Talking to you?” Annabeth snarks. Her next shot misses. 

“Getting wrapped up in helping a ghost your first few weeks in New York. Isn’t that why you left California? Oh, get fucked, I knew that was your battleship.” 

Annabeth shuts that right down. “I left because I got a job. I knew New York would have a lot of earthbound spirits; that was kind of a given, it’s huge. And yeah, I did say I was going to try and focus on me a little more, but…I don’t know, there’s something about him.”

Clarisse looks like she doesn’t know what to do with that. “He’s…nice?” She asks.

Annabeth laughs. “Uh, no. I’m not sure I would be if I just found out I was dead, so.” She shrugs. “I won’t be able to help him cross over until he starts to remember more, anyway. Googling ‘Percy NYC’ got me a dollar pizza place in the West Village and some place called Percy’s Tavern that isn’t even open anymore.”

“Silena’s going to be so pissed that all we talked about on our call is your new familiar.”

Annabeth sinks Clarisse’s final ship. “No, she’s not.”

Clarisse raises her eyebrows. “Oh, yeah?”

“Mhm.” Annabeth smirks. “Because you get to tell her that the new ghost is, like, seriously hot.”

Clarisse just shakes her head, grinning. “She is going to love that. Damn. Well, good luck. I’ll call whenever my ego can handle a rematch.”

“Okay,” Annabeth says softly. “Bye.”

“Love you. No homo.” 

Before Annabeth can reply, she gets hung up on.

“Typical,” she says to her empty studio apartment. No one, alive or dead, replies.

//

“Alright,” Annabeth says as she steps out of her office building, her headphones on. “Where am I getting lunch?”

“I’m not telling you,” Percy sulks. “You just abuse my knowledge. I spent a lifetime accumulating this stuff, only to give it away to some yuppie. Barf.”

Annabeth picks a direction and starts walking. “I read that Ess-a-Bagel is good,” she says, already knowing what will happen next with only a week and a half of experience.

“Overrated,” Percy says. He can’t seem to help himself. “Like, it’s good, but they only put the seeds n’ shit on one side. Shmear options are okay,” he adds a little begrudgingly.

“Like, cream cheese?”

“Like, cream cheese?” Percy mocks, his voice high-pitched and whiny. “If you ask for them to scoop out your bagel, I’m actually going to start haunting you.”

“As opposed to what this is,” Annabeth murmurs to herself, well aware that he can hear her. 

“Hey! I’m, like, super chill. I haven’t even tried to get your lights to flicker.”

“You’ve never even appeared in my apartment,” Annabeth acquiesces. “Or at work.”

He shrugs, falling into step beside her. “Seems rude.” 

Annabeth almost stops in the middle of the sidewalk, she’s so surprised. “Okay, that’s a first.”

“Are the people you see always rude?”

She wrinkles her nose. “It’s more like…it’s all on their terms. No one’s ever been that concerned about appearing in the middle of my calc final, for example.”

“Yikes.”

“Exactly.” Despite having the light, she looks both ways before joining the crowd in crossing 6th. One of the idling cars honks at her.

Percy flips the car off. It doesn’t make a difference to anyone but her, but she appreciates it. “If you want to spend too much money on a bagel, I’m not going to stop you,” he tells her. 

Annabeth walks into Herald Square; she’d rather go through a tiny park than down the crowded sidewalk. “Where would you go for a bagel?”

“Absolute Bagels. 108 and Broadway.”

She snorts out a laugh. “You knew that answer way too quickly.”

“I’m tired of these bougie, overpriced bagels! Absolute is good enough I drag my ass to the west side—that’s how you know it’s legit.”

“So you’re from the east side,” Annabeth follows, nodding. “Okay, that’s something. Remember anything more specific?”

“Yeah.” Percy grins proudly, pushing his wet bangs out of his face. “El Barrio, baby! Proud of it. Just off 2nd and…” His grin fades. “Shit. Goddamn it.”

“It’s okay,” Annabeth soothes. “That’s something. I’m assuming that’s…a Hispanic neighborhood?”

“Spanish Harlem,” he says. “East side, north of, like, 96.” He wrinkles his nose in distaste. “These days, north of 110.”

They’re already on the other side of Herald Square; Percy picks up into a jog. Annabeth follows suit, only realizing that he’s trying to catch the light before it changes a few seconds later. They make it to the other side and slow back to a walk. 

“If you want,” Annabeth offers, “I could go there. With you, I mean. We could walk around, maybe spark a memory.”

“You’d do that?” Percy asks, his voice almost severe in its sudden quiet volume. 

Annabeth shrugs. She pauses on the corner, barely a moment of hesitation, but Percy points diagonally to the side of the street she wants to be on. With a wince of thanks, she says, “I want to see more of the city. Might as well check off a good deed while I’m at it.” 

“Well, I can make it worth your while,” he says with a confident nod. “D’you like Italian food?” 

“Am I human?”

“Okay, so we’ll swing by Patsy’s, then. Oh, or Sam’s! And that bakery with the killer conchas—”

“I have no idea what that is, but I’m sold,” Annabeth says. “Why does Spanish Harlem have Italian food?”

He shrugs, sending tiny flicks of water flying. “Dunno. Better Italian food than Little Italy, though.”

“Haven’t seen it yet,” Annabeth says, pushing her way into the surprisingly large bagel shop and immediately struggling to focus. 

“It’s mostly gone, honestly. Hey, you good?”

“Hm?” Annabeth blinks away from the menu behind the counter. “Oh, yeah, it’s just loud in here. You weren’t kidding about the cream cheese.”

Percy doesn’t say much as they wait in line, or as she orders—toasted sesame bagel with olive cream cheese—but he sort of squints his eyes, like he’s sizing her up. 

“What?” She hisses out of the corner of her mouth as the cashier rings up her order. 

Percy shrugs, the movement of his shoulders just barely visible out of the corner of her eye. “Nothing.”

She raises as much of an eyebrow as she dares, smiling quickly at the cashier, tapping her credit card, and hoping to get back outside as quickly as possible.

“It’s clearly not nothing,” Annabeth says once they’re on their way again. The bagel is hot even through the paper bag it’d been stuffed in. 

Percy moves like he wants to grab the door for her, then awkwardly follows her as she jerks it open herself. “I just think you’re a sociopath for getting olive cream cheese.”

Annabeth rolls her eyes. “You’re so dramatic. Ever heard of not yucking someone else��s yum?”

“Nope. Where we headed?”

“I thought we’d sit in the park?” 

“The squirrels are going to maul you.”

“Well, you’ve never seen me fight before.” 

Privately, even as Percy laughs, she casts a few suspicious glances at lingering squirrels as they make their way into the park. Most are high in the trees or lingering around the trash cans. She picks a free table that’s far away from both, sits down, and kicks out the empty chair so that Percy can sit down, too.

“I feel like a food critic,” she says, unwrapping her lunch. She opens the bagel using two hands to get the visual, her stomach rumbling at the sight of cream cheese going a little runny from being sandwiched between two warm halves of bagel. “Except kind of like I’m cheating, you know? I haven’t had to look up any new things to try in two weeks.”

“You’re welcome,” Percy says. He rubs at one eye and flicks the water off his hand after. “But I feel like you should know that I’m not telling you everything.”

Annabeth gasps in mock offence. “But you’re so endeared by me.”

“Lie. I’m living vicariously through you.”

“By not telling me everything?” Annabeth asks cheekily, taking her first, relatively heavenly bite.

“You know what?” Percy says, clearly trying to sound pissed off but failing by laughing halfway through his sentence. He flicks some water at her, and Annabeth swears she can feel it land on her arm. 

“What’re these big secrets you’ve been keeping?” She asks. “It’s not like I’ve gotten food poisoning or anything.”

Percy sighs, still kind of smiling. “Well, then they wouldn’t be secrets, would they? Gotta keep some stuff for the locals.”

Annabeth pouts. Percy rolls his eyes.

“Fine, whatever.” He jerks his thumb over his shoulder, gesturing back across the street. “You didn’t have to wait on line in there.”

Annabeth chews slowly, trying to figure out what’s been lost in translation. “I…ordered in person?” She says. “I didn’t use, like, an app or something.” 

Percy looks just as confused. “Yeah, I was there. I’m saying you could’ve skipped the line.”

“No, you said I didn’t need to be online.”

“Yeah,” he repeats a little slower. “You didn’t have to wait on the line. Have you, like, stopped being able to hear me?”

“Who says wait on the line?” Annabeth asks incredulously. “You wait in a line, Percy.”

“Everybody says that! There’s an invisible line on the ground, and we all stand on it.”

Annabeth takes a bite without looking away from him, wondering how she ended up here. “I’ve literally never heard that before in my life,” she says through her mouthful. “Online is the internet. You wait in a line. I live in a city. I ride in a car.”

“You get on a bus. I ride on the subway. And I wait,” Percy says, leaning in, “on line.” 

“Maybe you’re not dead,” Annabeth theorizes. “Maybe you’re a demon raised from hell, come to torment me. Maybe you’re from an alternate universe!”

“This is what I get for revealing the schmear only express line at Ess-a-Bagel.” Percy shakes his head. “I should’a known.”

“What?” Annabeth asks. “I didn’t have to wait in that stupid fucking line?”

Percy throws his hands up. “That’s what I’ve been saying!”

“Tell me that before next time. You had to wait in the line, too.”

He shrugs. “Not so bad. I’ve got nowhere to be.”

It sends her into a little bit of a tailspin. Sure, he’s actively dripping water on an otherwise dry and sunny day, but he’s around her age and died relatively recently, if the in-style cut of his jeans is anything to go by. He’s easy to talk to. It’s easy to forget he’s dead.

Annabeth takes another bite of her bagel. It’s a little strange that the sesame seeds are only on one side, but it’s just the right amount of chewy and pretty big for what she paid. The olive cream cheese is more of a disappointment, but she’s not going to tell Percy that.

“This is really good,” she says. “Your place is better? Or are you going to gatekeep that now?”

“Oh, shut up. It’s not like Absolute is a big secret, they’ve got a crazy line all weekend.”

“Good to know.”

“I don’t fuck around when it comes to bagels, Annabeth. Honestly, have any of my food recommendations let you down?”

“No,” she agrees. “Why do you think you remember all of that so well?”

He shrugs, his eyes sliding to the side. Annabeth doesn’t think he’s particularly interested in the squirrel eating a cigarette butt, so he probably just wants to avoid looking at her. It strikes her somewhere beneath her ribs, how sad it is, to wander around your home with only the innocuous pieces left.

Not for the first time, she wonders what will happen when she dies. Will someone see her? Will she even know that she’s dead? Will she be here, or in San Francisco, or on Berkeley’s campus, or back in Richmond? Has she ever known a place her soul would cling to?

“What’s your favorite thing about New York?” Annabeth asks, deciding suddenly to change tactics. “Since you keep insisting us transplants don’t know—”

“—know shit about shit,” Percy finishes. He looks back at her. “Uh, it’s the best city in the world.”

Annabeth rolls her eyes. “I know that. That’s why I moved here. You could argue that means I love it more than you.”

“Shut up,” Percy says, his face screwed up with indignation. “No, it doesn’t!”

“Great comeback,” she drawls. 

“Okay, I love the people,” Percy answers. “I love New Yorkers, and the way we treat each other.”

“Like?” Annabeth prompts him.

“We leave each other alone, but if I’m short a dollar on groceries there’s almost always someone who’ll cover me. And I just…I love walking places, and the subway, and I love it when I hop the turnstyle so smooth you can’t even tell I jumped it. I love the old guys who play chess in the park. The graffiti. I love riding the bus at night and Biggie, and shitting on Jersey and the goddamn Mets. I love not giving a fuck, I guess.” 

“Well, that’s things you love, but what’s your favorite?” Annabeth pushes. “Mine is easy, it’s the—”

“—the architecture, I know,” Percy finishes again. “I like that, too. I…well, maybe it’s the food. The food here is the best.”

Percy has admitted to never going anywhere else, so Annabeth doesn’t really know how he knows it’s the best, but she doesn’t call him on it. 

“But my favorite…” Percy goes a little still, like he’s remembered something. “My favorite thing when I was a kid is gone now,” he says. 

“Yeah?” Annabeth prompts

“Yeah. It was on the west side, if you can believe it. When you got off an uptown 1 at 79th, if you went up the staircase that took you to the northwest corner—there used to be a Circuit City there, next to the DSW.”

“There’s a name I haven’t heard in a while,” Annabeth mutters.

“Yeah, it closed ages ago, but it was in this little, two story building. And it meant, when you were going up the stairs, if you looked up all you could see was the sky. Like the sky was the ocean and you got to go down the ladder and jump into it.” He goes quiet for a moment. Then, “now there’s an ugly fucking apartment building.”

Annabeth resists the urge to scoff. “You think any new building is ugly.”

“That’s not true! I like the Jenga building downtown.”

“The Jenga…” Annabeth thinks. “You mean 56 Leonard?”

“Is 56 Leonard the building that looks like a wonky Jenga tower?”

“I—” She sighs. “Yes. But it’s a Herzog & de Meuron.”

“You’re a hotdog and demure one.”

“You’re not that funny.”

He shrugs. “I dunno, you’re smiling.”

You’re flirting, Annabeth realizes. You’re flirting with a ghost, and he’s flirting back. 

“I can show you the ugly building some time,” he offers, blinking some water out of his eyelashes. “It’s right by the Natural History Museum. You like museums, right?”

“My second favorite thing about New York,” Annabeth confirms, and just manages to stop herself from saying it’s a date. 

//

Her dad texts her on a Saturday morning, the first time he’s reached out since she moved to the east coast, and his message reads [ Hi, Annabeth. I hope you’re settling in well at your new job. How is New York? Let me know when you might be free to talk.]

She doesn’t respond for three days. What’s there to say? She wishes she could explain to him that you can walk south on the east side of Broadway, from Grand to Howard, and you can look up and see the top of One World Trade peak through the buildings. You can look down so you won’t trip over the subway grate, and when you look back up again 56 Leonard has taken its place. 

She could tell him that if you walk past the entrance to the NQWR to the corner of Canal, you can see all of Herzog & de Meuron’s creativity, bottom to top, and you can decide that from then on out you’ll be calling it the Jenga Tower. She could type it out, or even try and call and inevitably tell him in a voicemail, but he wouldn’t get it. He’d probably say something ridiculous, like ask what Jenga was, or tell her about an exhibit that has something to do with planes that’s soon to arrive in the tri-state area, and Annabeth would remember why she hadn’t reached out either.

Instead, she tells him about work, and doesn’t talk about buildings or bagel shops or the bitter and charming conundrum of a ghost that’s taken to appearing at her shoulder as she makes a city her father hates her home. 

[ravencounsellor]

watching red white & royal blue and holy shit the glorestor vibes are off the charts

[clownjacket]

If Kipperlilly DOES end up betraying Porter/Jace as part of a secret other scheme she has (whether good or evil) and it has to do with saving Lucy, I just know she’s going to be a bitch about it and pull a ‘sorry, I only save High Five Heroes’ before leaving her other friends to die or some shit. And then she will take her final form: Magic Betty from Adventure Time, betraying her allies and saving her frost gf at the expense of the world. It would also parallel what Ankarna is going through (‘your girlfriend’s out of town, it sucks’, becoming a little imperialist rage machine under the influence of Porter/Sunstone but not being able to fully turn on Lucy despite going against her values and turning into a violent weirdo). This is my wish. My dream. I am manifesting it. Magic Betty Kipperlilly I believe in you.

[exopelagic]

everyone was so harsh to alola it deserved so much better. like this region is so well designed and so pretty and the story is actually really fun? will never forgive everyone for what we did to her

[comicaurora]

OHHHHH MY GODDDD IM GOING INSANE OVER AURORA RN

Like both Kendal and Unnamed Paladin Guy/Michael both have a major choice to make, (whether or not to kill the people in the way of them accomplishing their goals), and they both have a god talking in their head. For Michael it’s the Light Dragon telling him to accomplish his (and her) end goal of putting a stop to VD’s plans, and for Kendal it’s Vash telling him that doing the stabbety stabbety is not one of the cards he’s willing to play.

And then they make opposite decisions!! Kendal is willingly putting down the sword, at the possible cost of his friend’s lives, while Michael is about to blow these innocents to smithereens to stop VD!! It’s definitely not the best situation for these guys, but it’s in character! Of course Michael’s gonna sacrifice a few innocent lives for his end goal, because in his mind it’s worth it. But Kendal can’t bring himself to willingly end ONE life because, to him, it’s not worth it at all!

The PARALLELS in this page oh my GOD. Both of them are listening to their own respective deity, almost like an inner-conscince sort of deal, but they’re also making completely opposite decisions with wildly different stakes. Whatever internal struggle Michael’s having, it can’t possibly be as hard as it is for Kendal, who, at this point, has had no friends other than these. It must be so hard for him to make that decision NOT to skewer Michael! But for Michael this is just the atomic-bomb solution, no matter how many innocents it kills, it’ll still solve the problem. They’re doing the opposite thing, but both of their decisions combined are gonna be a potential death sentence for the people below them. (Apologies if I speculated too close to the sun, I got excited lol)

Also VASH? HELLO??

I see why people are assuming that's Vash talking, but everything floating around Kendal's head is something he's himself said previously.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Long Snake Moan 10

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Loki

Summary: your boss gives you a task you’re not prepared for.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Loki entwines your life like the snake he is. You stare at the steaming cup of tea as you listen to him in the kitchen. You don’t really trust him not to ruin anything else but you’re powerless to stop him. Every move has another pang plucking in your stomach.  

God! You can’t believe it. Three days. With him? And you’re married? Right, none of this makes sense. He can’t be your husband. It’s impossible. 

You drag yourself up and clutch your stomach. There’s something else, a tingle as your thighs press together. A flash ripples behind your eyes and you hear him groaning, feeling him thrusting, his hot breath enshrines you. You blink and it’s gone. A moan drifts from your lips. 

You search your apartment and scowl. All this green... It’s not bad but it’s a bit much. None of you is left here. Aren’t marriages unions not invasions? 

No, you’re not married. He never even asked. You get up and suss out your phone on the side table. You pick it up as you keep an ear toward his constant stirring. You tap into the search bar and bring up City Hall. You have to call. Damn it. 

You tiptoe toward the bathroom and peek back as you ease the door shut. You tap the phone number and chew your thumb. You’re on hold for a while and after navigating through the directory, you finally get an answer. 

“Hi, er, wow,” you respond to the dull tone on the other end. “I don’t really know how to do this. Sorry, erm, I need to look up a marriage license?” 

“Do you have the registration number?” The woman asks. 

“No, but I can give you my name? My Social Security? Whatever you need.” 

“Social Security,” she sniffs into the speaker. She doesn’t seem very impressed. 

You recite the memorised number and wait as you hear the clacking of keys. She hums flatly. “Yep, right here...” she reads out your name, “and uh, Lachi—Loki Laufeyson.” 

Your heart drops. What? Your last hope that he’s as much a liar as ever evaporates. You stand stunned, starring into the drain. 

“Anything else I can do, ma’am?” She doesn’t sound genuinely helpful. 

“No,” you croak and hang up. You’ve wasted her time. 

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. You lift your head and slowly let yourself look at your reflection. You shriek at Loki as he grins over you. 

“Oh god,” you spin to face him in the tight space, “do you have to do that?” 

“Well, I was concerned. I find my wife missing--” 

“Don’t say it. Stop. No. Wife? I can’t--” 

“It is the truth. Legal, as it were. Surely that lovely woman on the phone told you so,” he slithers. 

“Ugh, why? Why me?” 

“Oh, I know, how lucky you are,” he tickles along your sides and you nearly toss the phone. You stop him, latching onto one wrist as you push your cell against the other. 

“Haven’t you done enough?” 

“Hardly. Darling, we are on honeymoon, are we not? So let us taste the delicious nectar of our coming together--” 

“Honeymoon? Wow, it’s wonderful,” you look around. 

“Ah, yes, I do believe you mortals prefer to travel, so...” 

He untangles his arm from your grasp and snaps his finger. His figure is limned in ribbons of green and your insides twist as the world spins around you. Your feet leave the ground only to land heavier on something else.  

You blink and cry out. The sky is a vibrant violet and silver stars shine in a constellation all around. You crane to see the tapestry as your feet press on something rough. You look down and two golden sandals appear on your feet. The satin robe transforms into a gown with braiding that matches the shoes. 

Loki turns parallel to you and presses his hand to your lower back. “Beautiful, yes?” 

You peer around and open and close your mouth. You take inhale deeply. Several times. You know you’re nowhere on earth. 

“I can breathe...” you murmur. 

“As you know, I have my tricks,” he purrs. 

“Wh-where are we?” You ask shakily, the reality that you’re on an entirely different planet rattles in your skull. 

“Does it matter? We are together?” You look at him and he turns to meet your gaze, “why do you look upon me thus?” 

You shake your head. You can’t explain all the ways he makes you feel. Loathing, confusion, agitation, and a little fear. 

“It’s a lot,” you utter at last. 

“Yes, I’ve been told I can be much to handle.” 

You sigh and look up at the sky. It is pretty. Your eyes wander down to the rocky peaks along the far edge of the planet. It smells like... flowers and vanilla and cinnamon. You raise your nose to sniff it deeper. 

“What is that?” 

“I wouldn’t know. I smell sage and Asgardian oak. It won’t be the same as you.” 

“Huh?” You glance at him again. This time, he laughs. 

“Here, you can smell exactly what you like best. And the sky reflects the colours which you most love. To me, a sea of evergreen and sapphire, but now, a touch of the shade of your lips too. For you... well, what do you see?” 

Your heart flips. It can’t be true. 

“I’m not lying to you,” he affirms as if he can read your mind. Somehow, you believe him. 

“It’s purple. Lilac and plum and there’s silver stars.” 

“Lovely,” he wraps his arm around you. It’s strange. You don’t feel so... uneasy. Almost calm. “And you’ve not even seen our accommodation, my beautiful wife.” 

“Just... let me enjoy this. Just a little.” 

He hums but says nothing else. His fingers curl into your hips and his chest falls. You’re not happy but you’re not entirely unhappy. Not like it will make much difference. You’re in to deep. 

[helga-grinduil]

First reminder: MHA is written by a Japanese man for a Japanese audience, and if you can’t even for one second at least try to look at it from the perspective of Japanese cultural and spiritual beliefs instead of projecting your own western ones… good luck, I guess?

Second reminder: MHA is a meta story about the art of fiction, escapism, fantasy vs. reality, and theatre. It’s quite literally a three-act play about fantasy, reality, and the balance of both. It’s about a stage, and character masks, and actors, and the real world outside of the stage, and about fighting against the writer who is too lost in his own fantasy.

Third reminder: visual storytelling is a tool sometimes used to contradict the lines of the story, which invites readers to think about what is actually the truth here.

Fourth reminder: MHA is anti-darwinism and anti-biological essentialism.

Fifth reminder: Hero system was literally created to control quirked population in the post-apocalypse. It’s FOR quirks. Heroes exist to keep population’s quirk usage in check by being the only profession that allows you to use them, and strictly for ‘good’, while also showing off those quirks to keep population entertained and content with the lie that quirks are accepted, actually! (Aren’t heroes so cool and their quirks are so flashy? See, we like quirks! We accept and allow quirks! Only if you use them for the good of society, of course! You are still not allowed to use or express them if you’re not a hero though, sorry). So. No, you can’t be a ‘hero’ (job) without a quirk, having quirks is A REQUIREMENT for this job.

Sixth reminder: MHA is a sci-fi with fantasy elements. Some concepts in sci-fi aren’t meant to be 1:1 parallels to real life. Quirkless people aren’t a disability allegory, it’s an allegory for any minority in general. MHA is a story about a person from a minority becoming one of people in power and about what effect a person with the experience of being a part of minority can have on others in power, acting as the first falling domino that ends up completely rewriting the script of the story.

Seventh reminder: MHA is about one person’s small actions affecting the world like a chain reaction. One action affects another person, and that person also makes it’s own small action. Everyone performing their small actions together, those small actions eventually combining and creating big results. Concepts of karma and butterfly effect. That’s literally what the idea of OFA is about. Everyone thinking about everyone else even just a little, doing their parts, creating a web and changing the world little by little.

Eighth reminder: the themes, good lord, the themes. Remember the fucking themes, you dumbfucks. My god. One of those fucking themes is the real person vs. the mask, by the way. Which, by the way, circles back to the first reminder, since it’s all about the Japanese concept of honne and tatemae.

Ninth reminder: touch grass and stop projecting.

P.S. ‘Izuku doesn’t want to change the status quo’ - Izuku wanting to save Shigaraki is literally him going against the narrative of the story. Saving Shigaraki IS changing the status quo - it’s another (very big) falling domino that will have a huge effect on the world and the status quo as the result.

[twoa-plus]

it’s 2:00am and this is more of a character thing than a genuine theory but *claps hands for the drama* same coin theory. what if both of the stans are bill

or like. a parallel to him. like i said this isn’t a super serious theory i’m mostly just back on my character analysis bs lol

so i haven’t gotten to talk abt this much but i am a firm believer in that there is not a superior stan. from a personality perspective this is obviously entirely subjective, but i mean that there isn’t a superior one when it comes to their objective traits and how useful they are

ford is. ford. i don’t really have to say anything here he’s super smart can play the piano or whatever etc etc. however one thing that i will say that i think is important here is that i am like. 99% sure this man has a higher tolerance to The Horrors than other humans do. dude spent 30 years in that portal and came out pretty much the same level of crazy, and we all saw what happened to fiddleford. i know fidds saw bill take off his exoskeleton or whatever but u can’t convince me that ford traveled the multiverse - with all sorts of monsters and non-3d dimensions and god knows what else - for 3 decades and didn’t see some shit that would make anybody else lose it. like at this point u could tell me this guy could have a casual conversation over tea with cthulu and be fine and i’d believe u

as for stan - and i mean this in the absolute best way possible i love this guy - he’s like the world’s most charismatic cockroach. he’s fantastic with people and just straight up refuses to die. for the first point i don’t just mean this in the conman way, when it comes to the people that actually matter stan always manages to win them over in some way or another (soos, wendy, the kids, ford, etc) and one does not simply survive for a decade on the street without needing the occasional favor from someone who actually likes you. “oh but rico-“ man when u’ve been living as a homeless criminal for a decade and the list of people that want to kill u consists of 1 person and the government u’ve done pretty damn well. anyways as for the cockroach point, he’s alive and has his memories. i don’t even have to say much here stan went through all of That, lived through the series itself including The Literal Apocalypse, metaphorically (something something people are just a collage of their life experiences) died at the end of it all and then came back to life. that’s hardcore as hell man. in a less literal interpretation of the “refusing to die” bit, he’s also just. insanely determined. the biggest example is ofc him never graduating highschool and yet teaching himself god knows how much math and science and whatnot over the course of 30 damn years because he just refuses to believe that he can’t save his brother. stan pines is a force of nature i swear

[additional note while im already ranting about this guy, im not a personal believer in the “stan is just as (academically) smart as ford” theory. first of all i feel like this entire theory is kind of rooted in the idea that he has to be/be on the same level as “the smart one” to have value, which is an idea that the stans’ entire backstory is based around criticizing, and i think stan has something just as if not more valuable than freakish intelligence - raw fucking grit. he wasn’t the one to open the portal back up because of some intellectual advantage, he was the one to open the portal back up because he wanted to, god damn it, and best of luck to you if you’re gonna try and stop him.]

anyways as for the same coin thing, everybody knows the stan part. his casual references to the impending apocalypse, “you’ve been buying gold, right?”, him being such a good conman, etc etc. while i’m already ranting about stan’s determination, bill’s got that too - he’s been trying for like thousands of years to take over the world and he just Won’t Stop. point is there’s a lot of character traits they share

(i know in the original same coin post a pretty major point is stan not making a deal with bill, but i think that could probably be pretty easily explained without the need for divine intervention. the only times bill makes a deal with someone without them summoning him first is after he’s kind of left on a loose end with gideon, and everyone knows stan wouldn’t fall for his lies in the first place)

bill also shares a lot of traits with ford, though. both have some kind of physical anomaly (bill’s eye & ford’s hands), both can see/understand things others of their species can’t, they’re both egomaniacs (listen i love ford but the guy has issues), etc. u could even argue that, at least at the time they meet, they have some kind of connection through their loneliness

so. with the theory of “bill was reincarnated to make up for what he did,” what if it wasn’t just stan? what if he was split in two, and his “reincarnation” is both of them? they’re flawed enough to make it a lot harder for either of them to take over the world (ford’s lack of social skills & stan’s lack of freakish academic knowledge), and they have something bill doesn’t - each other.

bill is alone. that’s his whole problem. he killed everyone he loved, treats everyone new he meets like shit, and now he’s Like That. throughout it all, the one thing the stans have always had - even if it was just in their memory - is each other. “oh but ford-“ shhhh. shhshhshshshhsh. shut up. ford has Problems but i genuinely don’t think he ever stopped loving stan. love is weird, first of all, and secondly he clearly never stopped trusting him. no matter what he might say about stan being a liar or a conman or whatever, who’s the one person he goes to when he’s forced to admit he needs help? ford is a weird guy and has an… odd way of showing it but he loves his family just like the rest of the pines and i will die on this hill

i’ve been writing this for over an hour straight and i think my brain is melting but i’m sure at this point u get the idea. both of the stans, together, serve as a parallel to bill, and the one thing they have that he doesn’t is love. that’s what killed him.

something something killing an interdimensional dream demon with the power of friendship and this gun i found

[cateyesinlove]

OH BY THE GODS! what a delicious scene!

Let’s talk about….

let's begin with the most satisfying part of this scene to see Alicent open her eyes and realize that she is nothing without the system she upheld for so long. Without men to lift them who in return lift her she finally feels like Rhaenyra but she can't defy said system so she has to run, she has to take Helaena ( who Alicent thrust into the same position she was shoved as a child but even younger, Helaena was 13 when she married aegon and probably between 14 and 15 when she was pregnant).

The fact that Alicent tries so hard to be the victim and make Rhaenyra feel like this is somehow still her fault and that all of Alicents flaws are because Rhaenyra is WILD but still incredible because Rhaenyra gags her ass and makes her see how she can’t keep washing her hands of guilt for the things SHE has done, and set into motion. All who have died, their blood is on Alicents hands, especially because Cole was her sworn sword, the man who has an insane amount of blood in his hands.

Then we get to the part where Alicent who has raised all her sons to be full of hatred has told numerous times that Rhanyra was evil, cruel, a monster, that she hates them and would put them to the sword at any minute, and is surprised her sons are monsters. She has basically indoctrinated them to be in a constant flight or fight when it comes to their sister and now she thinks little of them and is willing to just give her sons up to die after she is the reason they are like that?

This is the catalysis of the end of Alicents "complex" character they tried to do everything with this character but they ended up doing nothing. She wasn’t a villain nor she was a good character, she was a bad written character that tried to have layers but all of them ended up mushing together like even when Rhaenyra and her are speaking and Alicent says she tried to do what Viserys wanted yet she talks about how he never stopped loving Aemma and that’s why he kept Rhaenyra as her yet she still pushed for Aegon to be crowned.

Finally I know we all have different takes on the parallel between these two in the final shot but my take is the next;

Rhaenyra who has always been trapped under the weight of being a Targaryen since she was young, from the expectations of marrying and everyone wanting her valyrian blood, being named heir, upholding her claim to always having in the back of her mind the prophecy, and how she and her lineage are meant to unite the realm against the true enemy. She whose blood will bring the prince who was promised.

Then there is Alicent who is finally "free" but who in reality has always been free. She built herself a prison and a window from where she only allowed herself to see Rhaenyra, having the impression Rhaenyra was "free" and could do as she please when in reality she is the one making the sacrifices, the one bounded by duty. Alicent WAS free yet she chose to be trapped under her father's thumb when she brought him back to court, she chose to poison her sons, she chose to crown Aegon, she chose a fake prison where she could sulk and hate Rhaenyra but now she has finally realized she has always been free.

[edgy-ella]

SONIC 3 WAS SO GOOD!!!

Extended thoughts below:

The action scenes are by far the best they’ve ever been in the whole series. They’ve really improved how they visually represent Sonic’s speed. The only exception is the gravity scene at GUN HQ, which I think dragged on a little too long and overall wasn’t as impactful as, say, fighting a GUN mech with those same gravity abilities would’ve been.

Keanu is ok as Shadow. If you’ve seen the trailers, that’s about the level he keeps it at for the whole movie. I think I would’ve been more sold on him if he gave a bigger “MARIA!!” when she died.

In the first act, I felt like the movie was kind of on autopilot. Things just kind of happened without a ton of buildup, and the script kind of lacked flavor for the expository scenes. For example: when Sonic asks Olive Garden Guy™ about Shadow, he just starts expositing Shadow’s lore without anything like “this information is top secret, tell no one else about this” or “it’s painful to think about…I wish I could just act like it never happened” or even Sonic questioning how/why Shadow came from a meteorite. Just lore exposition without flavor from the rest of the cast. Throughout the movie, the dialogue felt very on the nose. I wish it was a little more subtle, but it’s a kids movie I get it.

On that note, the movie feels like it just has a checklist of SA2 iconography they had to tick off rather than more naturally integrating that kind of stuff into the plot. For the larger story it works well, like with Shadow and Maria, but stuff like the Chao Garden and “talk about a low budget flight!” just kind of felt…tacked on. In the moment it’s fine because I’m too busy aggressively pointing at the screen, but for someone not as invested in the series as I am, it feels a little random and clunky.

The movie really kicks up when Shadow starts having Maria flashbacks. The little montage they have with them together was so good. The cold cut to the record player stopping was so well done.

In retrospect, when just looking at this movie and not the rest of the franchise, I think Maria and Gerald’s relationship could’ve had some more focus. They never mention anything about Maria being sick in the movie, so it’s not clear why she’s there at the research station to begin with. That being said, Gerald telling Ivo “you’re no Maria” towards the end was gut wrenching. My theater audibly ooh’d.

@allshaftsfall and I were betting that the reason Gerald is still alive would’ve been through time travel shenanigans (which would set up the next movie), but, bizarrely enough, it just seems like Gerald is genuinely that old. He mentions he’s 110. But…how? Did he just survive that long? Did he use Shadow’s quill to expand his lifespan? It’s never explained.

I’m glad they had Knuckles and Tails continue to be proactive and do things instead of just being relegated to cheerleaders and/or comic relief. Knuckles in particular wound up hard carrying Sonic and Tails through most of the action setpieces.

There’s a scene where Tails talks to Agent Stone about being Sonic’s friend and not his assistant like Stone thinks he is, and Tails asks Stone “aren’t you and Eggman best friends too?” Stone replies verily sorrowfully “yeah…friends. Totally friends.” I know it’s meant to read as Stone wishing Eggman treated him better but I could not see it as anything other than Stone thinking “he’s my lover!” but thinking he can’t say that to Tails bc he thinks Tails is homophobic.

YET ANOTHER GOD DAMN CASPER REFERENCE. I cannot believe that both this and Beetlejuice Beetlejuice, my two most hyped movies of the year, both had Casper references in them. I’m losing my mind.

I am so mad they didn’t actually kill off Tom. The setup was right there. They even parallel Sonic grieving him to Shadow grieving over Maria! But noooo he survives. When will we be free of human cop dad.

DUDE. The Super Sonic/Super Shadow fight was SO FUCKING GOOD. Worth the price of admission alone.

I kinda figured Live and Learn was gonna be in the movie going in from how much everyone’s been #KnowingSmile posting about it, but honestly? I was more hyped hearing Eggman’s theme from Unleashed start playing. It was way more of a “oh my god, it’s the thing!” moment. That being said HOLY SHIT LIVE AND LEARN PEAK!!!!!! The movie’s OST had a lot more of a rock influence and I couldn’t be happier.

I have some miscellaneous “I liked this better in SA2” stuff (pissing on the moon, Shadow’s heel-face turn, etc.), but all of them I understand why the filmmakers did what they did so they’re just nitpicks.

The end credits scene is kind of insane because it’s super long. It just feels like a scene from the next movie. Metal looks a little rough, but I’m sure they’ll polish him up for the next movie. They’re probably going to lean into Amy being a magic fortune teller girl given how she shows up in a dark cloak and floats in the air. I hope she’s gonna keep the fangirl energy, but I doubt it. Very interesting choice to do multiple Metal Sonics, though, especially since Sega only likes using the one Metal Sonic rather than having different copies running around. My prediction for the next movie is that Neo Metal Sonic will be the main villain and he’s controlling all the other Metal Sonics from afar.

[girl4music]

It’s interesting to think of Callisto not just as Xena’s arch-nemesis and main foil but also as Gabrielle’s mirror image and parallel because she can’t be much older than Gabrielle is. I mean Xena destroyed Callisto’s village when she was only a child. True, Xena was a teenager herself when she went on her 10 year long period of darkness. But she is obviously older by a good margin of years. I would say maybe 10 years between her and Gabrielle and 7 between her and Callisto. Say Xena was 16 when she began her dark period. That would make Gabrielle 6 and Callisto 9.

Which I think definitely checks out by the time we get to Xena’s army pillaging and destroying Cirra. Xena would be 20. Callisto would be 13 and Gabrielle 10.

So it’s interesting to think of Callisto as what Gabrielle could have been if Xena’s army had attacked Poteidaia instead of Cirra and murdered her family instead of Callisto’s. As I said - Gabrielle wasn’t special. There was nothing in her that would have made any real difference if those things had happened to her instead. Nothing but the love between her and Xena.

Which obviously she wouldn’t have had if circumstances had just played out that way.

If Gabrielle was Callisto and Callisto was Gabrielle.

And I like that Callisto tries to make Gabrielle see this when Gabrielle asks her if she felt anything when Xena confessed her crimes in ‘A Necessary Evil’ to a random village at her request in exchange for her assistance in stopping and defeating Velasca. She basically says: “Think about if this was you, would you be different?”

And Gabrielle wouldn’t have an answer for her…

Not yet. You see, to Callisto… Gabrielle fell in love with the villain. She wouldn’t possibly understand that. But Gabrielle wouldn’t possibly understand how Xena couldn’t be the hero. And it’s one hell of a dichotomy.

CALLISTO: “My goodness, are you trying to figure me out? I’m flattered.”

GABRIELLE: “Answer me. Or are you afraid?”

CALLISTO: “Let’s play a game, shall we?”

GABRIELLE: “All right.”

The way Callisto HITS when interpreting Xena and Gabrielle as a love story is so god damn DELICIOUS.

“You fell in love with the destroyer of my soul. Why would you think I would ever give mercy to you? But you’re no different to me. Circumstances saved you.

Instead of Xena destroying your life, she rescued your life. As my hatred for her grew, your love for her grew.

You could never understand me, little girl.”

But of course we know she does… eventually.

But she still looks at Xena as the hero. And that will always be the delicious striking difference with this.

In Callisto’s eyes - Xena is the villain.

In Gabrielle’s eyes - the hero.

What makes the difference? Honestly… Nothing but the circumstances because Gabrielle is no different.

Gabrielle fell in love. Callisto fell in hate.

Xena refused to let Gabrielle praise her - celebrate her. Nor did she ever ask for Callisto’s forgiveness. Ever.

She told her she was sorry but she didn’t force a narrative that she knew was absolutely impossible no matter how much Gabrielle believed in her goodness.

This show is not about heroes vs villains.

It’s about actions vs consequences.

The circumstances are the only difference between. And storytelling like that will always last because it will always be relevant and resonant for real people.

And once again - I have to highly praise the writers for refusing to let the protagonists off with plot armor. For refusing to sugarcoat the events and situations that happen in this show just because they’re the heroines and they’re a representation of women loving women. Because it’s also a representation of women hating women and that deserved to be just as focused on and just as much respected as the love story there.

Callisto was never undermined and I am so grateful. And great storytellers never have to sacrifice anyway. They can simultaneously tell a beautiful story of love, forgiveness and devotion and tell a compelling story of revenge, hatred and burden. That is great writing because it’s always honest, realistic and authentic.

And Callisto is emphasised xBILLION in a WLW love story because she becomes the main conflict in it.

Then everything that happens suddenly is MORE because the romance in this show doesn’t ruin it.

It only ever makes it more worth watching because the writers knew exactly what they were doing with it because not a single character arc ever suffers for it.

👏👏👏

[prythiansprincess]

*+:｡.｡ the riddle brothers being sleep token coded ｡.｡:+*

*+:｡.｡ MATTHEO ｡.｡:+*

you’re gonna tell me tmbte isn’t about mattheo?

my, my, those eyes like fire i’m a winged insect you’re a funeral pyre come now bite through these wires i’m a waking hell and the gods grow tired

and I don’t know what’s got its teeth in me, but i’m about to bite back in anger. no amount of self-sought fury will bring back the glory of innocence.

vessel wrote the summoning from mattheo's horny pov he told me so himself

you’ve got my body, flesh and bone. the sky above, the earth below. nothing to say and nowhere to go. a taste of the divine.

oh and my love, did I mistake you for a sign from god? or are you really here to cast me off? or maybe just to turn me on.

cause these days, I would be lying if I told you that I didn’t wish that I could be your man or maybe make a good girl bad.

don't even get me started on sugar !!!

do you wanna see how far it goes? do you wanna test me now, my love? you must be crazy if you think that I will give in so easily.

I know, I know, I am what I am. the mouth of the wolf, the eyes of the lamb. so darling, will you saturate?

*+:｡.｡ TOM ｡.｡:+*

ten year old me seeing thomas marvolo riddle appear in the chamber of secrets for the first time:

who made you like this? who encrypted your dark gospel in body language?

won’t you come and dance in the dark with me? show me what you are, I am desperate to know. nobody better than the perfect enemy. digital demons make the night feel heavenly.

I can offer you a blacklit paradise. diamonds in the trees, pentagrams in the night sky.

euclid is so tom fight me on this

yet in reverse, you are all my symmetry, a parallel I would lay my life on so if your wings won’t find you heaven, I will bring it down like an ancient bygone.

the whites of your eyes turn black in the low light in turning divine and we tangle endlessly like lovers entwined I know for the last time you will not be mine so give me the night.

the PAIN and ANGST it's giving tommy I fear

and we are exhausted by all this pretending, we just can’t resist the violence and you need the melody, I only need the silence.

somewhere the atoms stopped fusing. i’m still your favorite regret; you’re still my weapon of choosing.

yeah goodbye I don't even want to talk about this last line

I want to be forgiven. I want to choke up chunks of my own sins even if the sky cracks in the morning and the heavens just won’t open for me.

in conclusion, the riddles 🤝 sleep token = sexy self-loathing and slutty poetic lyricism

[consumeroflemoans]

For the character break down since he's been in the public conscience, Sunday? Also Aventurine so we have the classic?

I DIDNT SEE THIS ASK OMG

Sunday

- How I feel about him?

Augh I love love love his character so much. He’s such a fascinating exploration of the trauma and grooming that can sometimes come from religious institutions. He’s a deeply flawed person that I just want to see improve

- Who do I ship with him?

Stellar question to ask the multishipper I have a few

Sunheng - This most recent quest really opened my eyes to this ship. Dan Heng and Sunday have parallel plots of redemption. They both have been made criminals in their own homes after doing something they believed was right. Dan Heng is further along in his character arc, so he could potentially help Sunday with his own development, helping him find his own purpose. Also they’re on the Astral Express together now (:

Sunturine - These absolute divas. The conversation between Order Sunday and Aventurine had my toxic yaoi bells ringing. I’ve talked about this before, but they are amazing foils for each other. Sunday is lowkey obsessed with Aventurine’s surface level frivolity, it was even mentioned in his argument against himself. The dynamic of the (metaphorical) straight man x the frivalous flirt is so fun. Also “It’s Sunday, the most handsome man in Penacony” plays in my head constantly.

Sunday x Caelus/Stelle - Now I don’t ship the Trailblazer with a lot of people, but this is one situation where I think it would work. Penacony was supposed to be a vacation for them and it turned into arguably one of the most traumatic experiences of their life. The dynamic between a villain searching for redemption and the one that defeated them in the first place is really fun to explore and I think there could be good angst.

- Non-romantic OTP?

Oh my god Sunday and Robin. Their sibling dynamic brings me life and the newest quest nearly made me cry. Sunday has been so dependent on Robin acting as the light in his life and he’s finally recognizing that he needs to secure his own independence. They love each other so much I hope they see each other again

- Unpopular opinion?

I’ve touched on this before but I don’t think Sunday has changed all that much yet. I’ve seen a bit of discourse surrounding the farewell quest because it’s frankly confusing at times. This quest wasn’t about him becoming a whole new person, it’s about him finally accepting that he can’t change the past. He can only move forward and work to improve himself

- One thing I wish would happen/had happened

Please please hoyoverse I am on my knees give Sunday more interactions with the Astral Express crew. I’m well aware he’s only a passenger but he could have so many interesting conversations with them. I was really hoping the room event had Sunday included. It makes sense why he isn’t but I’m still kind of sad

Aventurine

- How I feel about him?

Obsessed with this character. He’s my husband. He’s my darling little boy. He kicked off the growing trend of us really getting to see the plot from character’s perspectives and I think they did a phenomenal job exploring his trauma.

- Who do I ship with him?

*clears throat* Dr. Veritas Ratio. *the crowd goes wild*

I do think they have a fun dynamic. Once again the straight man character plays well off Aventurine gambling on everything. It’s also nice to see a character that genuinely cares. Someone who can say, no, stop, this is actively harming you. Ratio also doesn’t say that in the most polite way, but I think it makes them fun.

Also Sunturine again (:

- Non-romantic OTP?

Aventurine and Topaz! I really like to think of them as best friends. They’re lowkey bad influences on each other, but they work well together. There’s a lot of fun concepts for workplace shenanigans also with them working together as Stonehearts.

- Unpopular opinion?

I don’t think it’s an unpopular opinion but tbh I’ve seen a lot of people mischaracterize Aventurine as being incredibly reckless. His entire theming is based around gambling but he’s actually an extremely calculating character. He had an intricate plan on Penacony with multiple backup plans to fall back on. He’s very smart with his plans and knows how to make things go his way. That’s why he’s good at what he does.

- One thing I wish would happen/had happened

Proper Aventurine/Boothill team up when. I need to see them take down the IPC together. They’ve both lost their homes, their families, and their autonomy to them. I need this for my soul

[queer-geordie-dyke]

i do not know where else to send this and this account has become somewhat of a comfort zone for me but i truly do not understand the direction in which the world is marching on, especially in regards to a shockingly amount of people happily jumping into the antisemitic bandwagon like one skips on the jump rope with gleeful vitriol. i sincerely thought i nearly lost my mind and was hallucinating upon seeing people claim that the virgin mary is palestinian rather than a jewish woman and that casting an israeli jewish woman to fill the role in that upcoming netflix movie – and painfully enough that is not all that there is, or the worst thing to happen. every single day is a painfully uncomfortable experience AT BEST by virtue to the parallels to history (i love and hate history. i am not even the biggesy history nerd out there but i love and hate it so much) repeating like a carousel right in front of my eyes and it drives me up the wall that more people are simply ? not giving two rats asses about it ?? do not care as long as innocent jews are harmed ??? what the fuck is that all about ???? i’ve had to stop calling myself a leftist due to the SHEER amount of violent antisemitism that others have allowed into what i thought were safe spaces but are evidently not, and i can’t imagine how much worse jewish people must have it right now. the news give me a vague picture but none of it compares to having to live thru a pogrom. in 20-fucking-24. i do not know what to think anymore and my fears are only getting bigger by the second and i needed to get this off my chest, i suppose.

- sincerely, a very distressed non-jewish anon with basic human decency

God, I really feel every word of this so you're not alone. It has been horrifying to see how quickly the mask of civility falls when people see an opportunity to indulge their worst selves in the name of a 'righteous' cause.

[anonzentimes]

hi zen!! my friends and i are doing a powerpoint night this monday and like any self-respecting person almost 7 months deep in a dangan hyperfixation (i'm never getting out of here) i am using it as a platform for an all-encompassing kmhn infodump. this powerpoint is going to be the komahina bible and i want to hit Every Stop. i will grab everything i can find. no hesitation. however !! the danganronpa franchise is A Lot. so there's always a chance i will miss something. so! as a fellow kmhn understander and enthusiast, is there any particular Komahina Moment or piece of analysis you feel people often miss or overlook? could be big or small, or involve just one of the two of them, but i'd appreciate the input! <3 have a good one :D

OH MY GOD??? I’LL TRY TO ANSWER IN TIME FOR YOUR POWERPOINT LMAO THAT SOUNDS AWESOME?????? You should record it! Well, you probably will, but I’m still saying it anyways just in case you aren’t, because something that fun going unrecorded sounds like a tragedy!

I’ve had ideas of doing all encompassing komahina rambles for a video or something, but I’m already working on other projects so It’ll be a long time before I even try lmao. Makes me happy someone is trying something similar, and with friends no less! I’d be happy to help in any way I can, I hope you and your friends have fun! :D

ANYWAYS. I’ll say a huge ramble of Komahina things and hope it helps LOL.

This is more of a silly statement, but for a FULL Komahina coverage I think it’s most satisfying to cover the different flavors of komahina, if that makes sense? Like, depending on what approach you’re taking you may not cover kamukoma, since to a degree that’s an entirely different ship, but you’d still cover the canon adjacent other flavors. Basically, try including the canon adjacent variations!!! The Dangan island events are good for analyzing their dynamic with less horrible circumstances bringing them to worst and causing them to hurt each other. The stage plays are also great to mention since there’s some komahina content that is play original, and seeing them physically interact is fun! Can’t forget the Komahina CD too Lol. There’s also smaller things like their anniversary outfits, especially the matching purple ones, their animal outfits, and their Danganronpa S Swimsuits!

Little details that are so special to me are things like the parallel of Nagito waking Hajime up being reserved in Danganronpa 2.5, and there’s also how things like Hajime’s grief for Nagito that’s so compelling, special, and telling about their dynamic.

I think my main thing to actually add on properly is that, a lot of people say Hajime hates Nagito which is absolutely incorrect. I don’t think I’d try so hard or care enough to revive and or wait until a person I hated woke up. Hajime displays he actively cares a lot, they just happen to feel hurt and betrayed by each other due to the circumstances. Komahina is unhealthy but it isn’t toxic, if that phrase makes sense. The beauty of it is that they grow TO be healthier, they learn to love each other, understand each other, and in the process learn to understand and love themselves. Komahina is reciprocal, it gets unhealthy due to circumstances, but it is reciprocal and the beauty of it is them becoming healthier together.

Nagito is not a malicious psychopath, and Hajime is not an overly horny person with no personality, I see them misinterpreted and characterized like that constantly It’s ridiculous. Hajime is awkward, conflicted, introverted, caring, and tries to be positive but ultimately is usually a realist. Hajime gets attached to people easily and deals with discrimination, insecurity, and self esteem. Hajime is relatable enough to where he’s empathetic but unique enough to where he’s special.

Nagito is a mentally ill queer coded man who is an antagonist and an anti-hero. He is morally gray when it comes to his unhealthy coping mechanism and has complicated beliefs, he’s honest, intelligent, struggles with insecurity, struggles with self esteem, has absolute beliefs influenced by hope’s peak, is a parallel and warped version of Makoto while being his own person, and he’s very sweet. Nagito’s love language seems to be mostly playful teasing, he rambles a lot and weirds people out just by saying what he thinks is fact. He has tonal issues and usually isn’t self aware, despite this he also worries about the impression he gives off if he thinks it matters. His beliefs are very hierarchy based and he thinks he’s all the way at the bottom, he doesn’t absolutely hate people like him but he thinks they have no purpose other than to help those more capable and projects onto them. Nagito is a very complex character, he is numb to intense situations due to the immense trauma of it being normal for him. He’s optimistic but also pessimistic, he’s positive but also incredibly anxious, he’s well intentioned but also thinks anything is okay if it’s for hope, there’s a lot to Nagito but in the end once it clicks it really clicks. He is contradictory in a way that perfectly makes sense, creating the perfect character. There’s a lot to him but when you understand him there’s no need for words, you just get it. There’s a feeling to him, an understanding, and I think that’s really special. He really is amazing.

Anyways, the ramble on summarizing both of their characters simply is to more expand on points about their dynamic! Nagito and Hajime are sides of the same coin. Nagito is irrational when it comes to Hajime in the way that he defies his normal behaviors because he usually avoids others and thinks he’s not worth the ultimates time, it means so much to me that Nagito just immediately had a feeling and connection with him. I’ve seen some people not think about it, but genuinely Komaeda feels something upon first sight and it’s irrational given his regular behavior it’s so sweet.

This has been just a lot of me rambling, but hopefully some of it helps! I had fun yapping haha, thanks for you ask!

[lagunapoint]

I’m really hoping for a happy arc for Lavellan and Solas in Veilguard, oh god. No surprises like him being trapped in the Fade while she’s stuck in reality, or having to make a painful choice about who gets to stay alive. Just no, please.

There are so many words and shattered hopes here, I’m sorry, but I couldn’t stop myself. Grab a cup of tea, some cookies, and sit next to me, my dear Solavellan.

And now, it’s time to lay all the cards on the table. You know, I can’t help but connect the story of Doctor Who and Rose with Lavellan and Solas in my mind. These storylines mean so much to me, and they both break my heart in the same way.

Don’t worry if you’re not familiar with the Doctor Who fandom, I tried to write this as comfortably and clearly as possible for our little refuge.

Relationships that are doomed from the start but where the characters fight through all the difficulties just to see their loved one again... these fill me with awe and pain. (I’m not normal, haha) When creating such relationships, writers have a huge responsibility, and you can’t just trample on expectations, like what happened to me (and many others in the fandom) with the ending of Doctor and Rose.

(A bit of a description of the Doctor and Rose’s love so you can better understand why I’m so anxious of the Solavellan part of the fandom. Warning: Spoilers below. If you’re planning to watch the series starting with the Tenth Doctor, you might want to skip the next few paragraphs.)

He’s immortal, lonely, brooding, and full of regret. He chose the death of his people for the sake of the universe’s survival. He mourns them, he’s broken, lost. He can never undo his decision, and he no longer knows who he is. And then he meets her. She rekindles the light and hope in him. She helps him make the right choices. She changes her life for him, falls in love, even though she knows their relationship is impossible. He feels the same, but it’s like he doesn’t want to admit it. He enjoys her presence. For the first time in almost a thousand years, he falls in love. It slowly changes his world. And oh my God, their maximum intimacy is in their looks, their hugs, and the warm touches of their hands. (There were two kisses, but another being was in her body at the time. So it doesn’t count!)

How do you think this relationship ends?

It crashes into reality. She sacrifices herself and ends up trapped in a parallel reality where he can never exist. Never. It’s the end for them. Three minutes on Bad Wolf Bay. Buckets of tears. He fades away, and she’s left alone, crying along with me.

For years, she searched for a way to see him again. Her life changed so much it’s hard to imagine.

And then the moment of their reunion comes.

Hold your breath

And what did the writers come up with? Feel the strangeness of this decision: since she’s in another world where he can’t be with her, since he’s immortal and she’s mortal, let’s just create his mortal double and give him to her. They’ll be happy. haha. Happy ending.

Just imagine this horrible scenario (forgive me for this), where they create a double of Solas, stripped of all his godhood, mortal, and he’s given to Lavellan.

And Solas, the real Solas, with bitterness and full awareness of what’s happening, gives his Lavellan to him, then walks away into the mist. He loves her so much that he lets her go to another version of himself so she can be happy. Ugh. I feel awful.

Even as a teenager, I understood that this was utter nonsense. She’d leave that double in a day. It’s so obvious, damn it. It’s the worst decision the writers could’ve made for such a strong relationship.

And that’s it, the end. For almost 20 years, there’s been nothing more, and there won’t be. It’s over, and it’s just brutal. It’s a love story that got a happy ending only in fanfiction, fan art, and role-playing.

And that’s why I’m so scared for the outcome of the relationship in Veilguard. God, let it be a worthy ending for all of us few Solavellans. Damn it, this part of the fandom deserves some happiness already.

I truly wish I could have the chance to create a good ending for Solas and Lavellan. I’m sure that even 10 minutes of a cutscene would be enough to make us happy. If we don’t get happiness, then I’ll write another endless rant. In any case, there are always amazing authors, artists, and creators who can heal any plot shortcomings.

There’s so much sadness and doubt here, oh ir abelas, vhenan