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mask131 · 9 months

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Fantasy books I DO NOT like: Chronicles of Thomas Covenant

... Or to be more exact, the first book of the Chronicles, “Lord Foul’s Bane”.

This book came truly randomly to me when I found it in a box of books given away for free. I am a big fantasy reader, and this was a recent, big-sized reprint of the book in very good quality. I had to take it - especially since I remember the name “The Chronicles of Thomas Covenant” popped up from time to time in my various fantasy researches on the Internet. I couldn’t remember anything else about it though, so I decided to go in for a blind reading, to see by myself if it was indeed a classic I had missed out on.

Three-four chapters in or so, I checked the Internet, because I felt something was wrong. I did a few aside, non-spoiler searches just to get more context and info on the story. What I discovered became worrying, but I still decided to go on, see how things really were in the text.

Eight or nine chapters in, I decided to drop the book and not pick it up again, back to being given for free to someone else.

It is really bad because... the author doesn’t seem to be a “bad” author in term of style and ideas. It became especially relevant when I checked the date the book was released, and was deeply surprised to find it was 1977! (I thought it was a late 80s or 90s book). In context, it makes very obvious the deep originality of this work, which clearly was something never done before - and it made me understand why people praised it over the other fantasy best-seller of the 70s America, “The Sword of Shannara”. The dark fantasy genre was still something quite fresh, being “born” with the Elric series in the early 60s, the idea of having a person from the real-world being sent to a fantasy world and thinking himself in a dream or hallucination of some sort was also not yet as cliche and worn-out as it is today, and overall it was a true move of genius and huge bet to have a main character being a diseased, dying and bitter man suffering from leprosy.

In fact, the very first chapters set in the “real” world, the ones depicting the social, psychological and physical consequences of leprosy, were very good! Very harsh and cynical and dreadful, but in a good way. It was the kind of mature, adult, dark content I expect from a real, serious, dark adult work - but unfortunately, in light of what followed it, I think Donaldson would have been better writing a book about a man’s battle and destruction against leprosy in real life. The story would have certainly been much better and enticing than the final product.

I will also point out that to create his fantasy world, Donaldson does have moments where the glimpse of a “true” fantasy author shine. For example, the introduction of Lena, her family and village, with the magical golden healing-mud and the strange apparitions on the rock-observatory, and the simple village life mixed with magical feats such as having stones glow by themselves or a bowl repaired by a tiresome magic... It all felt very good, very nice, and it had Donaldson’s unique style to it. There were these glimpses of a not-generic fantasy, of an author who really wanted to do his own fantasy work, showing through... But just glimpses.

It was all the things good... Now for all the things bad. Given not everybody might be interested in the talk, and things get pretty nasty at one point, I’ll put it under a cut - the true reasons why I will put this on my dislike list and not read it further, nor any of its sequels.

1) The “It is all a dream” motif. It is understandable to have a protagonist coming from our real-world, seemingly being hit by a car, and waking up in a fantasy world, believe it is just a dream or an hallucination. It makes sense, and it is the logical first step to take... But having the character repeat to himself again and again that it is a dream is not subtle at all, and when I learned that the protagonist NEVER departs from the idea this is all a dream, from beginning to end, I immediately felt this would become VERY tiring of having the character constantly remind us “It is all a dream, it is all a product of my mind anyway, nothing is real, I do not believe in this...”. I saw through my non-spoiler research that apparently the author works on leaving an ambiguity as to whether the fantasy land is a dream or not... But it doesn’t work because the way the fantasy world works and is described and interacts with the protag feels too much (at least in those first chapters) “real”. There is no oniric to it, no strangeness as in surreal, dream-logic things. Even lucid dreams make less sense that how precise, detailed, chronological and logical (in its own way) everything works there.

In fact, thinking back about it, what I did not realize reading those eight or nine chapters, was that... this work seems to suffer from something I would call “the fantasy author’s self-hatred”. The position of the work as coming from the 70s does reinforce my theory - though I haven’t read the full book, so I cannot give you a true assertion. You see, for a very long time fantasy was not considered to be a “serious” literary genre, to not be a “true” author work, and to do fantasy would lead to one being mocked or discredited. This was one of Tolkien’s personal greatest fear, and this is why most fantasy stories had to be released in pulps and magazines before being published, and this is why LeGuin’s Earthsea series for example was catalogued hastily as just “children books” when, in fact, they are maybe a bit too deeply philosophical and existential for tiny little children... This led to a certain syndrom of internalized, self-hatred within several fantasy writers of the second half of the 20th century. A syndrom usually shown by the writer clearly, very clearly, desiring and wishing to create a full, complete, fantasy series... but sabotaging or diminishing the importance and impact of their own work by adding elements that make it less “fantasy” like, to make it seem more “serious”. In this case, the situation of “Is it all a dream?” and the protag’s constant denegation of the “reality” of his fantasy adventures, despite the fantasy parts being written as a pure fantasy story, with no obvious effort to make it onirical or psychological beyond what seems to be a vague self-centered metaphor around the protagonist.

To get more into details, this “syndrom” also seems to show up in the way Donaldson treats fantasy. For example, Donaldson purposefully creates a very cliche, simplified and schematized fantasy world, where good and evil are clear categories, where each species/race have their constants unchanged, where the names are very simple and to the point, bordering on the joke... It can almost be read as a criticism or parody of the fantasy genre - and more specifically a jab or caricature of Tolkien’s work given the ENORMOUS amount of references to his books (it is quite normal, though, almost all 70s fantasy works were Tolkien-derived). But here’s the thing... There’s no joke, no humor in this book, and so it is clearly not meant to be an humoristic parody, and beyond that Donaldson doesn’t seem to make anything with his use of cliche and stereotypes, removing the possibility of this book being a criticism of the genre. Donaldson mocks with a nasty grin the stupidly binary morality, the oversimplification and the use of names in fantasy - but doesn’t do anything behind just exposing those caricatures like freaks in a show, and even worse, he himself indulges into more fantasy tropes, stereotypes and basis, creating a full, complex fantasy world with its own original ideas and elements. It is either as if Donaldson wanted to do a dark parody/heavy criticism of the fantasy genre, but found himself enamored with it and deciding to just play it straight mid-writing ; or if Donaldson wanted to make a traditional, typical fantasy story, but somehow feared it and so filled it with mockery, distance, ridiculous cliches and empty meta-references just so it seemed he wasn’t “truly” into this whole fantasy thing... And the latter option is the one I felt somehow more, hence why I call it a form of internalized, self-hatred of the genre.

Mind you I have no knowledge of Donaldson’ personal life, literary preferences, or view about fantasy and Tolkien, so this is all wild theory and speculation on my part. But it is the feeling I get: a book that starts out with a unique twist to make a true deconstruction and destructuration of the epic fantasy/Tolkienesque fantasy, and a meta-distance allowing for some genre commentary... But never doing anything with it, never bringing anything truly new, just pointing out cliches and twisting stuff in dark ways. I would almost call this work “edgy” in nature, and not in a good way - in a bad way, edgy for the sake of edgyness.

2) The info-dumps. BY ALL HEAVENS AND HELLS THE INFO DUMPS! This is a typical trait of bad fantasy writers: they create their world, their history and their species and their societies and their religions... But then they write a story, and realize they can’t actually write a small detaled guide alongside the book. So what do they do? If they are a bad fantasy writer, they wll resort to info-dumps. The info-dumps of “Lord Foul’s Bane” are so ridiculous I almost wanted to think it was a parody... But as I said before, a parody must either A) be funny either B) bring some commentary or point, and Donaldson unfortunately plays his info-dumps very seriously and very first-degree. And these, trust me, are some of the worst info-dumps I never read. If the protagonist asks one character about something, the character will start acting like some tourist guide and detail the social origins, history, many uses, and various political opinions on the thing. The flow of the story, which otherwise is very fine in itself, constantly gets blocked by these huge and dense info dumps. Lena first encounter with the protag is all but info-dumps as she explains everything to this strange man she just met and seems clearly unstable and unwell... Her mother later also does info-dumps to the protag, while pointing out herself she doesn’t want to and it is idiotic to do so, but she still does it anyway... And even in the very first chapters, the one in the real-world, while I do appreciate the desire of educating the reader about it, the huge scientifical expose and medical explanations about the workings and results of leprosy felt copy-pasted out of some doctor manual. The most offending one I can think about is without a doubt Lord Foul’s first interaction with the protagonist: unasked, unprompted, for no particular reason, this big bad evil, all-powerful wicked genius that is treated in the story as the cleverest, most manipulative and most dangerous threat of all times... Info-dumps the protagonist on his identity, his recent past, his goals, and the current socio-magico-political situation of the villains. IN NINE WHOLE PARAGRAPHS! I had a big-sized version of the book, not pocket-size, and it took FOUR PAGES!!! I was expecting Lord Foul to be pointed out, by the protagonist or anyone else, as being VERY stupid of just revealing everything unprompted and unforced to a character he knows to be mostly ignorant of the situation... But no.

3) Oh yes, and did I mention the rape? I know it is what everybody talks about, and most people say “Ew, the protag is a rapist, so the book’s BAD let’s burn it”. But, while I do agree with the sentiment that the book is bad and it is mostly due to the rape part, I have a slightly more nuanced take because, it might surprise you to hear so, but the rape itself isn’t what bothered me the most about it.

In fact, I would dare say that the rape is in-character and in-genre. The protagonist is explicitely described as a man made deeply angry, bitter, cynic and misanthropist by his disease. He hates the entire world and wants to terrorize and make people suffer because he himself is suffering, and angry, and dying. He is explicitely stated to not be a good person, and the entire point of the book, the idea of the plot was, “What if the chosen one is not a pure hero, but an “impure one”, a diseased, hopeless, loveless man who refuses sternly to answer the call and only thinks of himself, and is corrupted body and mind by a disease as severe as leprosy”. It was, as I said before, part of a VERY original and new idea back in the 70s, an interesting and clever twist not overtly done before as it was done today. We are supposed to be in a dark fantasy, with an anti-hero. And an anti-hero who believes himself to be in a dream, in an abnormaly detaled hallucination - he is convinced everything he sees is an illusion, or a product of his subconscious, and that nothing he does truly matters because it is all “just” a dream... Which would make him more prone to act on his deeper and darker impulses, without thinking of the consequence. And what better way to show that the “chosen one”, the “hero of the prophecy”, the “savior of the world”, is NOT the good guy than by him raping a girl that only tried to help him?

The way the rape is described is not pornographic or crude in the way other bad writers would describe rape scenes and, the good and positive thing, immediately afterward the protagonist realizes the graveness of what he did, the darkness of his crime, he regrets it deeply, understands the suffering he inflicted, and awaits for the consequences - he knows the girl’s father and all the men of the village will come to punish him, and he decides to await for it and receive his punishment... But, as many readers point out, nothing happen to him since the girl doesn’t talk about her rape and hides it. And HERE is the part where I just sighed “Oh no, fuck no” and threw the book away. The part where it went from “okay, it is dark and immoral but still within the lines set by the author” to “no, this is typical misogynistic behavior of a 70s American man and a very backward view of sexuality and women” is: the protagonist (as the voice of the author) claims the girl was BRAVE and HEROIC for not telling about her rape, doing an GREAT DEED by not accusing the chosen one of a crime and not soiling his reputation of a prophetized savior, because the world “needs” him and he is to “fight the greatest evil on land”, etc... At this point I said to myself, “No, this is getting too much. Despite few glimpses of interesting things, the book was already boring/exhausting because of its constant self-denial and its artifical thick info-dumps, but NOW I get to be subjected to such a backward and warped view of rape? No, thank you.”

Again, this was before I knew it was a book from the 70s (the reprint was so recent and fresh...), and while learning it does not excuse it, it suddenly made more sense as to why this sort of thing would be written, published - and then get praised by many as a “great twist” and a “new take” on fantasy, without people pointing out the very wrong way to depict rape. But even beyond that, as I said, the other two flaws of the book (the dragging “it’s all a dream” and the info-dumps) are enough to rob me of any desire or fun when reading this book.

So I will promptly forget it and move on to better fantasy series (I might even re-read The Sword of Shannara with a better appreciation, now that I know it was the alternative to this kind of books). I’m currently reading “The Kingdom of Thorns and Bones” which is certainly much more entertaining and interesting (even though there’s a few dubious sex elements too, but at least they are better treated than Donaldson’s take on an adult raping teenage girls). (And yes I say girls because before attacking Lena, the protag did express a sexual view of teenage girls working in a shop)

[ In fact, this is why I even make this post in the first place - the fantasy series I do not like, I will promptly forget, so I make this post to just collect my thoughts somewhere before they leave my head, and potentially return to check one day why I decided not to read the series in the first place]

#fantasy series #fantasy literature #fantasy works I DO NOT like #fantasy

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tonberry-yoda · 1 year

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Whohooo, my timer rang, it’s the 7th!🥳🤣 (At least in my country, so I hope, sending my request now is okay?👀)

First off: I wish you so so much fun with your first event. Like I already said, the idea is amazing and I’m looking forward to every single post.🥰 So, here is my soul striptease:

I’m a cisgender woman and therefore I use the pronouns she/her. I‘m bisexual but on a spectrum I tend a little bit more towards men, at least at the moment.

My favourite fandom is Hunter X Hunter and I would be more than happy about something romantic.

For characters I don‘t want to be paired with, I would say Leorio (I could only teach him some medical stuff but that’s how romantic as it would get) and the more than obvious Tonpa?!😂 And no minors oc because I‘m old.

My personality… I can find humour in everything and like to laugh a lot but at times I can be somewhat melancholic and dark-minded… which I kind of like. I‘m very adventurous and open minded and never actually judge people… each to their own, I like to say. When it comes to friendship I‘m loyal as fuck (honestly I would cover up murder for my friends) buuuut in relationships I tend to get easily bored. My s/o should have high intellect (I hate smalltalk) and somehow needs to excite me… even some drama can be quite entertaining for me from time to time. When it comes to love I’m multilingual: Physical touch, quality time and gifts are my love languages but it’s very rare that I’m verbal about my feelings. Other than that, I‘m hopelessly romantic and - when good entertained - I’m passionate and head over heels. I enjoy art in every shape or form… doesn’t matter if it’s music, visual arts or literature. Generally I just like to look at pretty things (or people) and admire their beauty (sounds kind of creepy, but I’m not a creep, just an aesthete, promise!😐) My hobby’s are singing, writing and painting, even on people’s faces, cause I‘m pretty good when it comes to make up and hair (idk why), which I enjoy doing for others. How I present myself… I have pretty long wavy black hair, light green eyes and I always always always wear black. I’m more short than tall and quite petite. My style is simple but chic, I would say. Sometimes I enjoy wearing heavy make up and statement jewellery - but that depends on my mood. Oh, and I’m the biggest Parfumjunky I know of, so I’m always smelling of at least something. When it comes to how I behave in front of others, I‘m talkative and quite extroverted. When going out or just spending time with others, I’m always the last to call it a night, cause I enjoy deep conversations so much (also, you can sleep when your dead so why taking the risk of missing something exciting?). But there are times where I need to be by myself and I need space. By others I sometimes tend to get received as cold or even arrogant at first sight (resting bitch face going strong) but when they get to know me they’re surprised how chill I actually am (or that’s what they have told me at least 😂). My quirks are definitely that I can be very impulsive (even when it comes to big decisions) and that I’m so so SO impatient. VERY IMPATIENT.🥸 When it comes to music, there’s less that I don’t like: I love metal and rock, dark classical music, sometimes even minimal and house but never ever would I listen to girlpop! (Don’t come at me Taylor 👀) And yeah, that’s that. Thank you so so much for your work und making my evenings more entertaining.♥️🖤

notes💌: hello love! happy valentine's day <333 I am SO HAPPY that you asked for hunter x hunter because it is one of my top animes! Like literally my most nostalgic and literally at the top (dont tell jjba i said that) (and a lot of people dont know that about me lol) but yes! I love this anime and had so much fun reading your matchup and thank you for participating in this event <33333

The character Cupid chooses for you this Valentine's day is...

HISOKA!

i have had a really bad brainrot for this man so thank you for the excuse to geek about him <3

you and him both have a humor that can turn dark and everyone will kinda look at you funny, but neither of you care because that's how you two get along

that's probably how you met

you told some dark joke and the entire room went silent until you saw hisoka chuckling in the corner and from there, you two were inseparable

you're both not very judgemental people and it's perfect that you arent because hisoka is A LOT and that is something that you love about him because he is willing to be a whole lot in a lil package and bring so much pizazz to the relationship

you were both really loyal friends who would do anything for each other (you have hidden bodies for him lmfao and he for you ofc) and because of that, it made your relationship so easy to start

also, i figured i'd put you with hisoka instead of someone like illumi because you will NEVER get board in a relationship with him. NEVER

you two always have something to talk about or do as a couple and you are just never complaining

THIS MAN OWNS EVERY LOVE LANGUAGE

he doesnt mind that you arent as verbal though because you give him enough of what he needs

but do expect A LOT from him

words, cuddles, flowers, acts of service, ALL OF IT <3

you two are both very romantic people who are head over heels for each other tbh lmaooo

he is definitely a piece of art to admire, that's for sure, so you get to stare at him a lot and he actually loves it. boosts his ego lmao

and he'll do the same, he'll just admire you and tell you how beautiful you are

PLEASE OH GOD PLEASE DO HIS MAKEUP

he will love you even more, which is surprising tbh

you two match all the time, even when being casual

not wearing the same clothes, but having the same aesthetic for the day

sometimes yall even clash cuz it looks awesome

you're just iconic powerhouses

he loves you so so much because you match his energy

you and him are both very much people people, so you get to enjoy A LOT of nights out together partying and just having too much fun

he will definitely give you the space you need, but honestly, he cant be away from you for too long, so he'll just stay with you in silence if you need it

cuddles are a great recharge for the two of you

*cough cough* he thinks its hot that other people think that you are kinda mean. it just means you can protect yourself. your rbf is hot to him

he knows how sweet you are thought and will never ever make you out to be a rude person

he hypes you up always

he can definitely help with the impulses and try to get you to not, but lets be real, he's just as impulsive and sometimes encourages it lmfaooo

he plays girly pop in the house to annoy you lmaoooo

but nonetheless, he loves you with all of his heart and soul and is proud to call you his partner for life <3

💌 How would he ask you to be his valentine??

this man does it in the cheesiest way possible tbh. he would make candy hearts that say will you be my valentine and lay them out on the table with chocolates, a bouquet of roses and 2 teddy bears to look like the two of you! you would come downstairs to a total surprise and hisoka would surprise sneak attack you with a hug and ask you verbally if you want to be his valentine. of course you say yes, so the man attacks you with kisses

💌 Valentine's Day Date

You and Hisoka had spend time with friends all week long and now Valentine's day was your day to spend together. You didn't want to have to go out and about and around other people, you just wanted to spend time together and be in each other's presence. "Are you almost ready, dear?" Hisoka asked, clipping on his earrings. The two of you decided to grab some drinks and then go on a late night walk together. You thought the idea was amazing and very peaceful after a long week. "Yes, I'm ready!" You came out in a black dress that suit you perfectly and Hisoka couldn't help but smile. "Oh, love," he walked over to you and grabbed both of your hands. "You look amazing." "Thank you," you said, pressing a kiss onto Hisoka's cheek, leaving a little lipstick mark. "You look amazing too." "Oh, hush." He gave you a playful smack on the arm and you two walked out the door. --- After you two grabbed a quick drink, you decided to walk around a very empty trail. You two talked for hours, just enjoying each other's company and the fresh air you had been craving all week long. You walked until you couldn't feel your legs and all you were doing was laughing and holding Hisoka's hand. "I have an idea," Hisoka said slyly when he spotted a lone lake. "Do you wanna try something?" You gave Hisoka a skeptical look, but took his hand that he outstretched to you. "Sure, why not?" Hisoka ran over to the lake and stripped down, making you blush. "Hisoka, what are you-" You were immediately covered in water as he cannonballed into the lake. He brushed his wet hair out of his eyes and laughed. "Come on, y/n!" You laughed and followed suit, jumping in the water with him. The two of you splashed around for a while and then, when you got too cold, crawled out, wrapping up in your dry clothes. You laid on the cold dirt together with your hands interlocked and looked at the stars. "I love you, Hisoka." "I love you too. Happy Valentine's day." <3

~~~~~

mystery date rules | pinned post @tonberry-yoda

#mystery date #hxh #i hope you love it #i love this clown and im not ashamed tbh #lmaooo #writing #my writing #matchup #matchups #valentine's event #hisoka #hisoka x reader #hxh x reader

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jessaerys · 10 months

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What are your lgbtq headcanons for nello and for near? To you what do they identify as?

unless the characters themselves are preoccupied with identity politics i usually don’t find it interesting to assign them labels – HOWYEVER, (borrowing from resident mello expert @firebuggg PhD, some excerpts of her lovely writing below) i love the idea that while mello was out in the world making a name for himself he was taken in and taken care of by all kinds of communities on the outskirts; sex workers, drag queens, queer bars, leather daddies, kink groups, etc. etc. all of which influenced his own self identification and gave him a strong sense of belonging in queer spaces :’)

Clubs and hostels and drag shows and winking red lights: Mello had been quick to discover that he was likely to find friends, shelter, a temporary landing place among them with few questions asked. (...) There were always people who were welcoming, especially the people already on the outskirts: Mello has slept backstage at drag shows and comedy clubs, has found shelter and companionship in dark alleys and clubs and amidst leather and small kitchens and hot, crowded rooms.

but labels wise, classic ol’ salt-of-the-earth slutty bisexual – i believe this may be an unpopular opinion? we all know he's gay asf but i think he’d also be into assertive older women (see: halle, minora. *whip noise*) this bad boy can fit SOO many mommy issues in him (specially in @firebuggg's and i’s headcanons/writing where he spent the first five-ish years of his life with his mother during the 90s yugoslav wars, but that's a whole other topic.)(i also think he’d be into mean switch4switch girls his age that are basically himself but girl gender. for obvious reasons.)

that said he'd drop the slut life in a heartbeat for near. like i can't explain this and i almost always write ships with semi-open relationships but. mello wants to be monogamous with the bug-eyed kid SOOO bad it makes him look STUPID

near likes. uuuuuuuuuh, mello. you can make any argument for any identity in a vacuum but in any universe where he grows up alongside mello his entire sexual awakening and formative puberty experiences are mortifyingly rewritten by years of getting bullied by what is essentially a mean but occasionally caring older brother figure. sorry. you fucked up a perfectly good teenage boy is what you did. look at him. he’s got a choking kink

i cannot imagine near caring for sexuality or gender labels (there's a whole other digression here about near's alienation from community/having no past/being racially ambiguous/john silver quote "i am no one. from nowhere. belonging to nothing." HURGH. but we don't have time to get into that)

BUT i do like to think that mello does his damnedest to take him out to gay bars in chelsea and the west village to experience ~the queer community~ but what actually happens is near starts philosophical discussions in a corner that keep going long after he slips out and often end in insane bar fights. (he also gets progressively freakier as he gets older) (long haired near is a public indecency arrest waiting to happen)(possibly the one to suggest experimenting with other people, together)(mello does not take this well)

adasdjasdjkasjksajkfdsjkfjksd this got long for someone who started with i don’t care about identity politics. and i don’t

#death note #meronia #unbelievably enbarrassing but mello and daisy would have THEE freakiest one night stand #this is not something i'm happy about and i don't care for canon/oc ships but some truths just simply have to be acknowledged #brothercrush.txt #inbox.txt

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princesssarisa · 2 years

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I find your posts on opera really interesting...even though I've never seen an opera! Do you have any recommendations for getting into opera (e.g. which are the easier ones to listen to, best shows to see for a first opera, etc)?

Thanks for turning to me for this question. I'm honored.

One opera I often recommend to newcomers is Hansel & Gretel by Engelbert Humperdinck (a 19th century German composer, not the British pop singer who took said composer's name as his stage name). The story is a familiar fairy tale, it isn't too long or complicated, the tone is a nice balance between dark and light, and the music is both easy to listen to and gorgeous. As your first filmed production, I'd recommend the Metropolitan Opera's 1982 Christmas Day broadcast, which stars Frederica von Stade and Judith Blegen in the title roles, and which is sung in English.

Although if you don't want to start with a children's opera, but would prefer a more "adult" choice, there are plenty of other other options:

La Bohéme by Giacomo Puccini is often considered the ideal "first opera." The plot is a simple slice of life, the music is sumptuous, the tone effectively balances comedy and drama (although the ending is tragic), and since it's about the lives of ordinary young people and their romances and breakups, everyone can identify with at least one of the characters. If you're not a fan of sentimental tragic love stories, though, I wouldn't recommend it. But if you're open to it, than I'd recommend either of the two filmed broadcasts of Franco Zeffirelli's Metropolitan Opera production (either from 1982 with Teresa Stratas and José Carreras or from 2008 with Angela Gheorghiu and Ramón Vargas), or else Baz Luhrmann's 1993 Opera Australia production with Cheryl Barker and David Hobson, which resets the action in the 1950s (and was an obvious forerunner to Moulin Rouge!).

La Traviata by Giuseppe Verdi is another good choice. It's also a tragic love story (based on the same novel as the classic Greta Garbo movie Camille, in fact, and even more of an obvious influence on Moulin Rouge! than La Bohéme is), but it's slightly less sentimental than Bohéme and more substantial in plot, with social commentary about "fallen women" and how they're treated. Until recently, I would have recommended Franco Zeffirelli's 1982 film version starring Teresa Stratas and Plácido Domingo – it is a beautiful, compelling movie. But given the recent #MeToo allegations against Domingo and his possible links to a sex trafficking ring, it's probably not the most comfortable choice to watch anymore. So I'll recommend the 2006 LA Opera production starring Renée Fleming and Rolando Villazón – especially because I attended it in person as a teenager and saw the cameras filming!

Then there's Georges Bizet's Carmen, probably the world's most popular opera, with absolutely iconic music (you're bound to recognize at least some of it from pop culture!), a tone that strikes an excellent balance between comedy and tragedy, and a simple yet compelling story. Some are turned off by what they see as the sexism and racism of the plot (it revolves around a sexually liberated Spanish Romani woman who seduces a young soldier, driving him to a life of crime, and then leaves him when she can't bear his jealousy, which drives him to murder her), but you don't have to view it that way. It can also be seen as making thought-provoking, valuable commentary about issues of gender, race, and social class, without portraying either Carmen or Don José as clearly "good" or "bad." Of all the filmed performances, I'd recommend the 2006 Covent Garden production with Anna Caterina Antonacci and Jonas Kaufmann.

If you'd rather start with a comedy, though, Gioacchino Rossini's The Barber of Seville (Il Barbiere di Siviglia) is the classic comic opera. It's hilarious, the plot is reasonably simple and easy to follow, the characters are likable, and the virtuosic music is truly sparkling, for want of a less clichéd adjective. Jean Pierre Ponnelle's 1974 studio film version with Hermann Prey, Luigi Alva, and Teresa Berganza is probably the best widely available version to start with, though if you can get a hold of the 2007 Met production with Peter Mattei, Juan Diego Flórez, and Joyce DiDonato (it's available from Met Opera On Demand for a $4.99 rental), that's also an outstanding version.

Of course my own first opera was The Magic Flute (Die Zauberflöte) by none other than Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. The plot is slightly complicated, and the libretto features all too much 18th century racism and sexism (which modern productions and adaptations usually downplay), but it's still a very enjoyable fairy tale, magical and funny yet heartfelt and thought-provoking too, and with magnificent music. To this day I'm slightly obsessed with this opera, with a Blogspot blog devoted to my musings on it, and as you probably know from my posts, I've written a gender-bent retelling of the story, An Eternal Crown, which I'm trying to get published as a novel. I'd recommend either the 1991 Met production with Francisco Araiza and Kathleen Battle (a gorgeous traditional-yet-modernist production with sets and costumes by the famous artist David Hockney, although unfortunately, it does have the slave characters in blackface), or the 2003 Covent Garden production (a slightly darker and less traditional production, but excellently performed, and blackface-free).

I'm sorry if I've gone on too long, but this is obviously a subject I care a lot about. I hope whichever opera you choose to start with is just right for you!

#opera #recommendations #hansel and gretel #la boheme #la traviata #carmen #the barber of seville #il barbiere di siviglia #the magic flute #die zauberflöte

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magical-illune · 2 years

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I just realized that I’ve done something very silly! I named myself Magical Illune, but I never talked about what magical girl anime I like!

I’ll talk about it right now, then. I love all kinds of magical girl anime, from the light to the dark. I know that some people think that dark magical girl anime are Bad And Wrong, but I have to disagree. Yes, some dark magical girl anime are crappy, but not all of them. But that’s not what this post is about.

Anyway, here are some magical girl anime that I like!

1. Pretty Cure/Precure

Who could talk about magical girl anime without mentioning Precure? It’s a magical girl megaseries from Toei Animation. Each season (with the exceptions of Max Heart and GoGo, which are sequels to other seasons) is its own continuity, with its own setting and characters. While the seasons do share some similar elements, each season has its own themes that make it stand out. There are funny moments, awesome moments, emotional moments... It’s awesome! Each season is about 45-50 episodes long, and there are 19 seasons as of right now. Yes, the series is still ongoing! And the fights aren’t just about magical attacks - they usually have a ton of punches and kicks! I like all the seasons, but my favorite is Fresh, with Smile being a close second. Two seasons, Smile and Doki Doki, were dubbed as Glitter Force, but we don’t talk about that.

2. Nurse Angel Ririka SOS

This one is kind of obscure, but I love it anyway. This anime is from 1995. It’s about a ten-year-old girl named Ririka who is given a nurse cap as a birthday present by her crush, Kanou. It is soon revealed that the cap is a magical item that can transform Ririka into the legendary guardian known as Nurse Angel. Ririka winds up having to fight the evil forces of Dark Joker, who laid waste to Kanou’s home planet (yes, he’s an alien, albeit a human one) and have now turned their sights toward Earth. The series has a healing theme and some memorable aspects, such as Ririka having a limited power source that she must find more of. Also, there’s Dewey.

Just look at him! He is the best character in the entire show. No, I am not taking criticism. Anyway, although the anime still has that 1990s cheesiness to it, it gets surprisingly dark for a show aimed at young girls. That may be why it didn’t sell enough toys and wound up being cancelled. Still, the creators managed to bring the show to a conclusion at 35 episodes.

3. Puella Magi Madoka Magica

This anime was released in 2011, and it’s the one responsible for a slew of dark magical girl anime and manga in the years that followed. Some of them were good, others were not, but I’ll get into that later. Without spoiling too much, I can tell you that unlike the previous two entries, Madoka is definitely not for kids. It’s quite dark, with a storyline that explores the consequences of its magical system. While it’s not the first dark magical girl anime, it’s undoubtedly the most popular. The soundtrack is beautiful, the animation is (mostly) beautiful... I really recommend this anime!

4. Sailor Moon

Ah, a classic! This anime has two versions - the 90s anime, and the ongoing remake (known as Crystal) that follows the manga more faithfully. I like both! This is probably the most iconic magical girl anime among English speakers, so you probably know the basic details, but I’ll explain it anyway. The story begins when Usagi, a rather annoying crybaby, is given a mysterious brooch that she can use to transform into the magical warrior known as Sailor Moon. She is tasked with fighting various bad guys, assembling her team of planet-themed magical girls, and finding the missing princess of the moon (whose identity is rather obvious). Along the way, she is frequently aided by the mysterious Tuxedo Mask (yes, his outfit is as silly as it sounds). The 90s anime is generally more lighthearted and has quite a bit of filler, but I like it a lot - it’s got this nostalgic charm to it, you know? Crystal is also great, though it has less episodes. I’ve also been reading the original manga, and it’s awesome! There’s even a two-volume manga focusing on Sailor Venus’s adventures before meeting up with the other Sailor Guardians - it’s called Codename: Sailor V and I highly recommend it. Actually, I highly recommend all of this franchise!

5. Yuki Yuna is a Hero

This one is another dark magical girl series a la Madoka. Basically, three hundred years ago, a virus killed off most of humanity, except for those living on the island of Shikoku (a real place, might I add), who were protected by the Shinju - an amalgamation of gods in the form of a tree. Shikoku is at peace now, and it is run by the Taisha, a religious organization dedicated to serving the Shinju. The eponymous Yuna is a member of the Hero Club, a school club that does volunteer work for the community. However, it is soon revealed that the Hero Club is more literal than that - the girls have actually been enlisted to transform into Heroes and fight the mysterious Vertex that threaten the Shinju. Though the battles take place in a spiritual realm, the damage that that world takes affects the real world, and if even one Vertex reaches the Shinju, the entire world will be destroyed. The first season has some elements that I don’t like, especially considering the representation of disabled people, and there’s quite a bit of fanservice, but I still like the show. It has three seasons, and the second season is my personal favorite. There are also some prequel/interquel light novels, but I haven’t read those yet. Overall, Yuki Yuna is an interesting watch for its take on religion and child soldiers.

Okay, now you know of five magical girl anime that I like. I also enjoyed Uta~Kata, but for some reason the GIF thingy isn’t working right now, so I’ll just say that it’s good, albeit fanservicey.

I’ve also watched quite a bit of the original 2000s Tokyo Mew Mew, but to be honest, I find it a bit mediocre. I especially don’t like those two guys who run the cafe - it seems like they’re just using the girls. Still, I’ll finish it, and then I’ll watch the reboot and hope that it’s better.

Now, some dark magical girl anime are good, but others are not. After watching Day Break Illusion, I determined that it was one of the latter. Though the premise sounded interesting, it was not well executed, and it got quite creepy near the end - and not in a good way.

There are also some magical girl anime that I refuse to watch - Magical Girl Site, Magical Girl Spec-Ops Asuka, Prisma Illya, and any ecchi or hentai works.

There are other magical girl anime that I haven’t finished yet. I’ll give my opinions on them once I’m done. I’m also hoping to read some more magical girl manga, especially the ones that haven’t been adapted into anime yet. Any suggestions?

All in all, I really enjoy the magical girl genre, and I hope to add to it someday.

#magical girl #mahou shoujo #sailor moon #puella magi madoka magica #pretty cure #precure #nurse angel ririka sos #yuki yuna is a hero #anime

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flaringfoxsoul03 · 1 year

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Hello I was wondering if I could get a twst romantic matchup? I’d also love if you could put me in a twst dorm however you don’t have to!

I’m bisexual with she/her pronouns.

For personality I’m creative, introverted, and individualistic and structured. Though I’m introverted, around my friends/comfortable places I can be quite talkative, humorous and outgoing. However I definitely treasure my alone time the most.

As for hobbies escaping to new worlds while reading books/comics, watching movies, and playing rpg video games. My favorite genres are fantasy and sci-fi, though I do love a good classic from time to time. Apart from that, I love working out.

My interests on the other hand are art/tech focused. I’m currently in art school working with mostly digital mediums, though I sometimes work with traditional. I love my practice and everything from interaction/game design to visual effects and web design. Sometimes I’ll bring out the graphite and ink. Once I get started on an idea there’s no stopping me.

Random Likes: coffee, chai tea, dark chocolate, rock/blues/jazz/soundtrack music, cafe art shows, arcades, comic book stores, purple, thai/Indian/Chinese food, roller blading to classic rock, quality alone time

Random Dislikes: people i am unfamiliar with and have to make small talk with, the biting cold, rain, non fiction, staying too close to reality and not being allowed to daydream/imagine/roam freely in my thoughts, too much physical touch, overly crowded areas

Thank You!

Hell yeah I could put you into a dorm! I don’t see why not, your form default however will be like Ace and Deuce; normal human features only. Other than owning some magic (no special move will be mentioned), I’ll place you into a dorm like that. Ramshackle will be out of the picture for obvious reasons. And with that, let’s get to the match~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I match you with…

Idia Shroud!

——————————

Look, you literally gave me this match on a silver platter. Better yet, might as well be in the Ignihyde because not only will you be more likely to run into the recluse, you get to practice on your special talents most and improve your styles! Plus, earning a secret admirer from afar isn’t so bad, especially if it’s your dorm’s House Warden!

It was painful trying to meet Idia for the first time in person. The man’s so shy! He’s absolutely terrified of any type of public speaking and can’t get what needs his physical appearance this time when he can send Ortho or his tablet. But he bumps into to you being too focused on his whirling thoughts and oh boy, both of you are a mess. Yet, it’s a beautiful mess, he scatters your papers of art which causes a colorful explosion. In the midst of the chaos, you both make eye contact. Out of every romance manga Idia’s ever read, he’s bushing to match your hues on your cheeks! You whisper quietly as to not draw more attention than necessary to ask him if he’s okay, he can only nod his head as he’s too stunned and terrified of his voice to speak. You look around, lighting up brighter than any screen could illuminate, your eyes sparking with a flavorful idea as you whip out a small note pad and pull a pen tucked behind your ear as you jot your little mental creation down as to not forget it. Idia is truly and utterly lost, but he doesn’t hate that he accidentally made a fool of himself in front of you. He notices his dorm’s crest on your blazer and keeps a mental note of your facial features for later cross referencing to find you in his systems. This would not be the last ‘accidental’ meet up with your House Warden as you quickly explain your haste and gather up the papers as he aided along side out of automatic reflexes. Ortho came to scold him for being late but only saw his older brother on his knees looking utterly and completely out of this world

Is beyond ecstatic when he ‘bumps’ into you again, but still far too nervous to talk to you about any real conversation. His saving grace is that you show him the mobile game you’re playing that happens to be a very exciting RPG that got fully released at the beginning of the year. You had heard in passing that your House Warden was a gamer to the core, so you thought of the flames for hair boy who had helped you break your Artist’s Block. It must be him, so you thought you’d indulge him and the dam broke so wide, you thought you accidentally opened the gamer’s encyclopedia for the game! He stopped midway to apologize for rambling, but then you asked him what a certain term meant as you couldn’t help but notice he abbreviated something. This was the start of your paths intertwining indefinitely as time could tell

Respects your level of intelligence in your areas of expertise while you respect his own mad skills in the technology department. He even helped animate your art to life for little short videos, which turned into a contest of who was blushing more with all the videos you two ended up making together

Definitely appreciates that you’re more of an introvert, he would probably set you on fire with his hair more often than not if you were more extroverted. He likes that he doesn’t always have to spend all his time with you because he’s also just too exhausted by socializing sometimes and he needs a break from everyone. Not that he doesn’t love you or anything, he’s just unable to be around anyone because his social battery is immensely drained compared to everyone else

I think one surprise I think you could have Idia be truly caught off guard is jazz music. More specifically, him liking jazz music in the end after you first introduced it to him in one of your playlists. Sure he hears something similar to when he’s with Azul Ashengrotto when he meets with him for club activities in the Monstro Lounge when it’s devoid of people, but not the way you’ve shown him. He may accidentally info dump you on how jazz came to be in Twisted Wonderland, but I have a feeling you’d appreciate him telling you a little history lesson about it anyways

===================

And the follow ups are:

Azul Ashengrotto

And

Vil Schoenheit

===================

And that’s all folks! Sorry it took so long! I had Writer’s Block!

~Fox

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland idia shroud #twisted wonderland idia #twst #twst idia #twisted wonderland matchups #idia shroud #idia #shroud #twst idia shroud #twisted wonderland azul #twisted wonderland azul ashengrotto #twst wonderland #twst azul #twst azul ashengrotto #azul #ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto

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hiccanna-tidbits · 2 years

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HICCANNA MONTH WEEK 2, DAY 2 - WAYS TO SAY “I LOVE YOU”: LOUD, SO EVERYONE CAN HEAR COLLEGE AU

*Collapses into exhausted heap* IT’S DONE IT’S DONE IT’S BARELY IN TIME FOR THE END OF HICCANNA MONTH BUT IT’S DONE

Y’all git HYPED, because this is my first-ever crack at Established Relationship Hiccanna!!! Get ready for some of that sweet sweet “Anna is insecure about ‘not standing out’ in any super obvious way but Hiccup reassures her in the most blunt but effective way possible” trope that I’ve been meaning to really delve into since forever :D I love how he’d be really calm and patient with her when she needs it but also would straight up say “Uhhhh that’s bullshit???” when she starts talking bad about herself. Like YES king say it how it IS :O He’s also just. Genuinely confused, like??? HOW is it possible for people see his girlfriend as any less awesome than he sees her??? Including (and ESPECIALLY) his girlfriend herself??? Like it straight up Does Not Compute, Hiccup.exe has stopped working, please try again later

Yes, Insecure Anna is just as worthy of love as Confident and Self-Assured Anna and if anyone wants to dispute this and act like she doesn’t “deserve” Hiccup because she hasn’t totally conquered her self-loathing tendencies yet (but she’s working on it!!!) then I will throw ALL the hands with you I stg

Fair warning that this ended up being a shamelessly self-indulgent, projection-filled ventfic, because I needed an avenue through which to bitch about a very specific issue XD Anyways, to all the girlies who have ever sat in awkward, uncomfortable silence while your friends all talk super excitedly about some piece of media you’ve never seen/weren’t that into and you feel like you have nothing to add and also your friends aren’t bothering to bring you into the conversation...this one’s for you!!! :D

Also, not me using Anna to deal with my ADHD issues again XD Sadly, that classic shit attention span extends to literally everything, not just boring and lame school and work stuff. I can zone out during practically anything, even the most interesting movie/show/RPG game. Like I’m not bored, my brain just needed a smoke break and now all my friends are gonna think I’m stupid af for it ^^; Fun times! Also not me writing Hiccup reassuring Anna the same way I wish someone would reassure me--

Apologies in advance for potentially OOC Jack...I needed someone for Anna to squabble with a bit, so I upped his Little Shit tendencies just a bit XD In my defense, I DO think given whatever the Modern AU equivalent of “300 years of loneliness” is (probably something mental illness related), Jack would be drawn to more dark, “broody” media because he would feel like it better reflected his experiences. Anna, meanwhile, is like “To hell with this bleak grimdark shit, why would I watch something that just makes me even more miserable???” I do have them bicker a little For The Drama, but it’s mostly all in good fun XD

Not me writing fics set in winter/involving snow in some way to combat the horrible heat wave I’ve been getting where I live XD Physically I am braving 90+ degree weather, but mentally I am rolling around in a snowdrift.

Fic under the cut!!!

***

9:40 pm. The numbers briefly light up Anna’s phone screen as a text from Elsa slides in.

Sorry I couldn’t make it tonight. Hope you’re having fun!

Anna twirls another mozzarella stick through her marinara sauce, watching the viscous red liquid seep into the gaps in the crumbly, golden-orange crust. With a little imagination, it could be a very crispy, basil-speckled submarine being sucked into a massive blood whirlpool. Now that’s a movie she would see—provided the blood looks fake enough, anyways. (She does not go to the cinema to get nauseous and uneasy, thank you very much—school does that plenty enough as it is.)

She is having fun. She’s having immense fun. How could she not be? She’s eating delicious empty calories, she’s surrounded by her best friends, and Hiccup is turning 19 in about an hour and a half. She’s at her best friend’s—pardon her, her new boyfriend’s—birthday outing and she is having the time of her life.

Or at least she should be.

It was an event they had all been planning for months. The new sci-fi thriller, Cold Life, was all Hiccup could talk about. An ambitious project based on a comic book series Anna had never heard of (as so many sci-fi thrillers were), the plot centered around a ragtag group of time travelers trying to prevent the heat death of the multiverse while also not causing too many timeline overlaps and unraveling reality. So you know. Very low stakes.

They made a movie night out of it, buying tickets a week in advance and surprising Hiccup with reserved seats in the back of an iMax theater. They bustled their way in and paired off, as they so often did, organizing by who was most comfortable whispering and joking under their breath to who. Anna watched the movie eating popcorn with one hand and holding Hiccup’s with the other (she’s still getting used to being allowed to do that), and now she’s sitting in a sparkly blue plastic diner booth, delicately picking at her food in such a way to make it last as long as possible.

It isn’t that she’s not hungry. She’s always some degree of hungry. In a world where she was her most authentic self, the chicken Florentine panini, the mozzarella stick appetizer, the onion rings, and the honey mustard sauce would be gone within minutes of being delivered. The reason they are all still on her plate in some capacity is because they’re keeping her busy enough to not look…

Well, busy enough to not look like she shouldn’t be there.

She looks up for the first time in a while, tearing off the end of the marinara-soaked cheese strip as she scans the diner booth. The lively conversations—the same type that usually give her some degree of comfort and belonging—are starting to agitate her.

They shouldn’t be. The topics are innocent enough. Merida and Astrid are raving about how epic the movie’s fight choreography was, occasionally ripping off pieces of honey chipotle wings with their teeth for emphasis. Rapunzel and Moana are wrapped up in an animated discussion about all sorts of visual imagery and motifs and other such things, trying to meander their way toward a conclusion about the meaning of the recurring pink glow on the horizon. Flynn and the twins are rating the explosions (of which there were many, despite explosions being impossible in the oxygen-devoid environment of outer space) with a surprising amount of thought. Mavis is spearheading a deep dive with Tooth and Johnny into the psyche of a character Anna found rather irritating. Finally, next to Anna, Hiccup and Jack are arguing over themes, and whether Cold Life is making a statement for or against the idea of inevitability.

Usually when they go out with friends like this, one of Hiccup’s hands is always reserved for Anna to hold. They’re still getting used to being together, and sometimes Anna (or both of them, for all she knows) needs a reminder it’s real. For years and years it was only ever friends—Anna gazing longingly when his back was turned, drawing hearts around their names in her notebook margin and covering them up when anyone looked. Wondering how he’d feel wrapped around her, or pressed up against her while they slept. Daydreaming about flooding his locker with candy boxes on valentine’s day. She’s still in shock from bumbling her sorry way through asking him out and him actually saying yes.

Yeah, I’ll go see Black Hole Tyrannosaur with you. You want to grab ice cream afterwards? Absolutely fucking surreal.

Black Hole Tyrannosaur, for what it’s worth, was very good. The concept of going through a wormhole and finding a planet containing several extinct animals who had fallen through gaps in space-time sounded ridiculous, but the practical effects were solid and the characters funny enough to make it a delightful ride.

They’d held hands across the seat, sprouting a tradition of linking one pair of hands and using the other to share popcorn. Anna glances at Hiccup’s hands now, one making slicing motions to indicate how distinctly the movie laid out that butterfly effect-style change is always possible and the other clutching the side of his head the way it always did when he was frustrated.

Usually he can convey his points well enough with one-handed gestures, but today is his birthday. He deserves to utilize the full power of elaborate, sweeping hand motions to discuss Cold Life. She’ll let the hand-holding rule slide, if only for one day.

Anna takes a long sip of the cookies and cream milkshake she and Hiccup are sharing, and feels a deep pit start to settle in her stomach.

It isn’t that she didn’t like the movie. It had some interesting concepts, and it entertained her well enough. She rarely got bored, per se.

It’s just that it’s one of those movies where you have to have your whole brain turned on. Whirring at 100% capacity the entire time, or you’ll miss about 16 important details. And then later details build off those details, and later details build off those ones. It’s an endless cycle of “if you zone out for a few minutes, you’re fucked.” And then when you try to play mental catch-up, you miss yet another plot-relevant piece of info.

Hiccup loves this kind of stuff. He loves sinking his fingers into complicated things and picking them apart to see how they work. He has an eye for detail that she could never dream of, and a knack for piecing them together like some kind of mental jigsaw puzzle. He’s probably the smartest person she knows. (Still a little shocking to her that he found her to be anywhere near his supreme Level of Brain.)

It's not that Anna isn’t smart. She can usually follow Hiccup fine when they’re chatting about this or that or the other, discussing pressing concerns like the future of AI or whether single-biome planets like the ones in Star Wars could actually exist. Not to mention she’s beaten him in chess. Several times.

It’s just that her brain is constantly running on full power mode. It’s the only way to keep up with her classes, no matter how wired and anxious it leaves her 24/7. And nowadays, even during what’s technically her downtime, her poor brain is spluttering and overheating like a computer that no one ever shuts down.

She couldn’t keep it on full power for an entire 2 and a half hour film even if she wanted to. It always flutters away mid-movie, demanding rest and leaving her at the mercy of shallow, mediocre movie takes developed by an Anna Runeardsen only half there.

And now, between her failure to keep track of Cold Life’s many timelines, her merciless confusion at the vague symbolism, and her frustration with mean characters everyone else seemed to think were fascinating and deep, Anna suspects she arrived at a very surface-level and mediocre take indeed. From what she overhears of the babble around her, she wouldn’t have anything to add—or worse, would cause a stir by accidentally disagreeing with something everyone else is in solid accord about.

All right, no more lying to herself. This sucks. Never in her life has she felt so painfully boring.

She considers trying to butt into Flynn and the twins’ conversation—how hard could it be to have a discussion about explosions? When she checks on them again, though, they’re packing up. From what Anna overhears, Flynn is apparently taking Ruffnut and Tuffnut to some monster truck show, so they can’t stay all night.

Do they even have monster truck shows in this city? If they do, Anna sure wasn’t aware. She wonders if the three of them are bored and faking an excuse to leave, although Ruffnut’s enthusiastic speculation about which unlucky car would be crushed the flattest seems to indicate otherwise.

Anna scans the table again, assessing her remaining options. Rapunzel and Moana have moved on to talking about some weird little piano leitmotif Anna completely missed. Mavis’s miniature discussion circle is now analyzing the main love interest, a rather nasty woman who used her tragic backstory of finding out she was an “accident” and her general bitterness over being infertile as justification to implode an entire timeline.

Her eyes pause on Jack and Hiccup, now discussing the “brilliance” of the ending. Though they seem to be disagreeing over what details they did and didn’t like, the general consensus was that the entire finale was very, very good.

Jack is being particularly insufferable about it, seemingly incapable of shutting up about what a mad genius Directorman Whatshisface is. During his spiel, he seems to be on a mission to dip his fries in every available substance on the table—honey mustard, ketchup, Merida’s chipotle aioli, Hiccup’s side of Ranch, the table sugar jar, someone’s abandoned spare BBQ sauce, Hiccup’s soda, Merida’s lemonade, his own mint chocolate shake. He barely seems fazed by even the most disturbing of combinations.

“Hey Jack,” Anna pipes up. “Which one tastes the best?”

“Huh?” He looks at her, blinking in confusion before he realizes what he’s subconsciously been doing.

“The ranch,” he says cheekily. “No question.”

And just like that, he’s back to gushing about the poetic cinema of the last 20 minutes of Cold Life. So much for getting him to change the subject to something she could talk about without making an idiot of herself.

“Okay, yeah, yeah, I get it, you think it’s brilliant that all their efforts were for nothing. I want to hear what Anna thought.”

Anna isn’t sure how long Jack has been going on when she hears Hiccup say her name. “Huh?”

Hiccup turns and smiles at her. “I want your input. I know those like…hopeless, depressing endings movies do sometimes aren’t your cup of tea, so I was wondering how this one fared.”

Anna blinks, eyes widening with shock. “You remembered?”

“Uh, I’m in love with you?” He looks at her like she’s completely lost her marbles. “Of course I remembered.”

Anna’s entire face grows hot, probably turning redder than the marinara sauce.

It isn’t like they haven’t exchanged “I love you”s. They’re six months in. Anna dropped an “I love you” after four (although rest assured, she knew long before they started dating—she just didn’t want to scare the poor boy off right after she somehow managed to woo him. Somehow.). He said it back after only a little contemplation (which she considered a win, from the guy who overanalyzes everything), soft and slow under a blanket fort. They’d been huddling for warmth and telling ghost stories, and when Anna accidentally came up with one so alarming she freaked herself out, she took a break from the spooky tale marathon to confess her undying love.

So yes. Factually speaking, he loves her. She loves him. It has been stated aloud many, many times at this point. Not exactly a surprise.

But every time he says it, it still feels like one.

Maybe it’s because she still, even after all this time, worries she doesn’t deserve it. Maybe it’s because she’s not used to people loving her and being so upfront and straightforward about it. Maybe it’s because the mere concept of someone she loves reciprocating the sentiment with equal or greater intensity will never not shock her.

Anna has never had reason to hold a particularly high opinion of herself. The idea of anyone thinking so much of her is still a little hard to grasp.

She’s never been first-in-line for anyone’s heart, or been anyone’s top choice. But now, with Hiccup looking at her like that, she can believe she’s his.

He isn’t exactly talking quietly, either. Hiccup has never been particularly loud—much to the chagrin of many of his more rowdy, boisterous family members, who always complain he’s no fun at parties. While not exactly soft-spoken, he didn’t often care to raise his voice and preferred a tone that could devolve into inconspicuous mutters if needed. Generally speaking, Hiccup cared quite a bit more about the cleverness of the things he said rather than the volume at which he said them.

And yet here he is, announcing that he’s in love with her so noisily that several of their friends look up in surprise. His enunciation leaves no room for argument, either—the oft-present incoherent mumbles and splutters have apparently gone on sabbatical.

He’s speaking with an open confidence Anna doesn’t often hear.

“I mean…I, uh…”

Anna isn’t so lucky.

“Good, right?” Jack cuts her off, mouth full of French fry, before she can stumble very far. “There’s something so beautifully ironic about them ripping themselves apart hopping between universes and sacrificing their own timeline versions of themselves…and then their plan still doesn’t work. And for a second there, you really thought everything was going to be fine! Like the way they set it up to trick you was brilliant—”

“I don’t necessarily think—”

As usual, it’s difficult to get a word in edgewise once Jack is off on a rant. “Kinda underlies this idea that you can try really, really hard, and still fail. That people with the best intentions can do everything right and still get fucked over. Like, that’s just life, you know?” He punctuates the statement with a bite of an onion ring dipped in tabasco sauce.

Anna frowns. “That doesn’t really—”

“And the twist of the heroes being punished when they fucked up, but the villains ultimately getting rewarded? Solid.” The bite of onion ring is not nearly long enough to slow Jack down. “I never see movies ballsy enough to flat-out show that evil rich people can buy their way out of trouble. At least not without some kind of ‘karma’ coming for them. Which it doesn’t in the real world, since karma isn’t really a thing.”

“Seems a little bleak, don’t you think?” By some miracle, Hiccup manages to cut in. “This idea that any efforts to spearhead positive change in society are ultimately doomed.”

“That’s not really the point, though. It’s more about how all societies will eventually end, and trying to prolong the inevitable is a waste of your own existence—”

“Will they, though?” Hiccup interrupts Jack a little more boldly as they fall into their usual movie-arguing rhythm. “I mean, no future time travelers have come from the end of the universe and told us for sure.”

“It’s likely.” Jack takes a noisy sip of his green-and-brown milkshake. “Entropy ultimately prevails and all that.”

“But there’s no point.” Anna finds herself shoving her way in before she can second-guess it. “I mean, like…what’s the purpose of showing us a story where nothing gets accomplished in the end? What am I supposed to take away from that?”

For a moment, Jack looks surprised before the usual air of self-assurance returns. “No, no, I think you’re misunderstanding,” he says around a mouthful of fry. “There’s not supposed to be a point for the characters. The point for us is that there’s no point for them. It’s kind of showing how everything we do is meaningless in the face of a cold, uncaring universe.” He grins, like he just put in the last piece of a particularly tricky jigsaw puzzle.

Ah, so this is the answer that she’s been missing for so long. Complete and utter nihilism.

“You seem oddly sanguine about all this,” Hiccup notes. Jack only smirks, raising his milkshake like he’s making a toast.

“What can I say? I’m just speaking the facts.”

Anna felt one hand clench into a fist under the table, the other starting to whittle away at the wood beside her placemat with green fingernails. It’s hard to tell if he’s actually that smug, or if he’s just trying to get a rise out of her. Maybe both.

Probably the latter. He’s not above causing a stir to get the attention on him. She’s not so different from him that way—dismissed and overlooked for much of her life, always wanting to be seen.

Still, there are other ways to go about it without talking over her. Or her boyfriend, for that matter.

“I guess you aren’t wrong,” Hiccup says, though he sounds resigned.

Jack looks briefly appalled that that was even considered a possibility. “Psh. Of course I’m not. Seriously great ending, though. I was more impressed than I’ve been in a while.”

“Yeah, kept you on your toes.” Hiccup doesn’t sound quite as enthusiastic as before. “Certainly couldn’t say it’s predictable, that’s for sure.”

“Really subverted all the stuff you—”

“Well, I thought the ending was stupid.”

She surprises herself with how ferocious she sounds.

As so often occurs, the entire table happens to go quiet the second she calls attention to herself. Her friends all turn to stare, and she suddenly wonders if she’s made a grave mistake.

Maybe she should take it back. Force an anxious laugh, say she was kidding. Let Jack have his fifteen minutes of movie analysis fame while she goes back to hiding behind the remains of her panini. Maybe she shouldn’t stir up controversy and strife at her very own boyfriend’s birthday outing.

Then something warm settles over her fingers, still digging nervous trenches in the wooden table. She feels a thick hand curl around her own, and some of the tension trickles down her back and out of her body.

A couple quick squeezes, subtle but unmistakable. It’s a small gesture, but Anna knows exactly what it means.

I’ve got your back.

He’s taken to doing it when the old, rusty metaphorical springs that make up her body get coiled a bit too tight. It helps drain out the worst of the anxiety, social or otherwise, and get her bent back into place.

She glances up. Hiccup is giving her a soft look, encouraging and perhaps even a little…eager.

Right. He’s in love with her. He’s probably not lying about that. If he’s in love with her, he’ll probably want to hear her opinions. That logically tracks, right?

He gives her a small nod, as if to say go on.

And so she does. No turning back now—she has to commit to the bit, at least.

“So nothing they do will ever be able to save the multiverse.” She crosses her arms. “They try, and they fail, and they go back in time, and they try, and they fail again, and they keep doing that until they dissolve into the space-time continuum and cease to be, blah blah blah. It’s boring. It’s the same objective with the same result every single time.”

“Well, yeah, but the thing that makes it entertaining is the variety of ways in which they fuck up.” Jack smirks.

“Sure, the first few times. Then eventually it’s like…okay, is this going anywhere? Is it gonna show me some epic thing that makes all of this worth spending three hours getting my brain sliced up and handed to me? And then, to top it all off, you get Clinical Depression: Movie Finale Edition!”

She spreads her hands wide as she says it, mouth hanging open in mock wonder.

“I still don’t think you’re getting it.” Jack’s smirk turns to a frown. “It’s not really about some big dramatic reveal. In the real world, you don’t always get to know the how or the why of things. They just happen.”

There’s a note of bitterness in his voice, like he has quite a few of his own unanswered questions. A predicament that apparently he wants to see reflected in media everywhere so as to not feel alone.

Anna almost feels sorry for him until he continues talking.

“I mean…come on. Not every ending can be this cheerful ‘friendship and teamwork save the day’ thing. Anyways, it wouldn’t make sense for the story. If you pay attention to the plot structure, like Hiccup was saying earlier, it’s more narratively satisfying to end on a bleak note.” Jack sips his milkshake smugly before popping another handful of fries in his mouth. Hiccup looks away, eyeing the table guiltily. “Honestly, I think more movies could use endings where—”

“Oh, shut the fuck up, Jack.”

Jack freezes mid-chew, the end of a French fry poking from his lips. The entire table turns to stare at Anna again.

She glances over the shocked faces of her friends, suddenly feeling mortified. Jack looks like he got smacked with a mallet.

“Oh, gosh.” She shrinks back into her seat, studying the few bites left of her panini. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped. Geez. That was so rude, I—”

“Are you kidding?!” Hiccup’s voice cuts in, and a hearty hand slaps her back. “Annihilate him, babe.”

She looks up to see the shock has faded from Jack’s eyes to be replaced with…an almost playful glint. He’s not mad, she realizes. Not even annoyed. More intrigued than anything.

He’s challenging her. Which is good, as he is, from this moment forward, essentially consenting to being annihilated.

“I can’t deal with you right now.” She leans back in her seat, letting out the most exaggerated groan possible. “You’re so ridiculous. ‘Ooooooh, look at me, I’m such a deep and profound movie where everything sucks and nothing gets any better! I’m gonna win an Oscar because the movie awards committee loves pain and suffering and they think the only way to be respectable is to wallow in your own sadness and misery!’ Give me a fucking break. You think I need to be told by some...brainscrewey movie that sometimes things go to shit?! My life has been going to shit for years. And I don’t think I’m the only one. I mean…we’re all kind of fucked, right? Not like our majors are gonna make us more than pennies.”

She looks around at her friends, all studying liberal arts or humanities or whatever other field that was absolutely not hiring. Hiccup was maybe the only exception, with his path toward an engineering bachelor’s.

They stare back at her, eyes growing even wider. Apparently the perpetual optimist talking with absolutely 0 filter whatsoever isn’t something you see every day.

“The Adderall doesn’t always work, y’know.” She knows she’s oversharing now, but she doesn’t care. “Neither does the Zoloft. Or whatever else I try. I’m panickey, I’m stressed all the time, I pretend I have a promising future to keep myself sane but I really, really don’t. I see the world and the economy and the environment and all this stuff like…falling apart around us, and I need to delude myself into believing maybe everything’s going to be okay or I’ll lose it. And you think a movie about people giving their all to prevent a disaster and failing miserably every time is what anyone needs?!”

There’s a short pause before Jack speaks up again, this time lifting a finger insightfully.

“But narratively speaking—”

“Well, fuck the narrative!” Anna starts frantically waving her hands around, copying Hiccup’s over-the-top gestures in her desperation to get her point across. “Maybe if its message is this shitty ‘nothing you do will ever matter’ thing, then the narrative is what needs to change, not get an equally-shitty ending to go with it. I mean, last I checked, people watch movies for fun, and like…who enjoys feeling hopeless, crushing despair?! How am I supposed to leave a movie theater feeling satisfied and like…generally okay about the state of the world when none of the good guys get a happy ending, and they all died for nothing?”

“Arlin got a happy ending—”

“Fuck her too!” Before Anna knows it, she’s picking up an onion ring drenched in honey mustard and chucking it across the table. Drops of yellow goo fly onto her friends’ faces, and the fried vegetable lands on Jack’s cheek with a wet splat. He peels it off his face, eyeing it with distaste.

“She’s the worst,” Anna goes on emphatically. “Look, we all have problems, but you don’t see me going around and destroying timelines over it. Sorry, but I’d be different. Also, can we talk about how sexist it is that only the ‘traditional’ lady who wants babies gets a happy ending?! Bet they thought I wouldn’t notice that. Ha!” She smirks triumphantly, ripping off a piece of a mozzarella stick. “I see how it is. They think the one who wants to be a mom is the pure and virtuous and innocent one by default, so she’s the one who gets to live. But I see right through their bullshit, and I think Karis and Suret should have lived! Everyone else can die, I guess, if the plot really needs them to, but give us someone to root for, you know?”

Hiccup whistles, nudging Anna playfully. “That’s my girl!”

Anna gives him a sidelong glance, sure she’s blushing an embarrassing amount. “I’m your girl?”

He blinks. “I’d think so, unless you’re only dating me as a friend. In which case it might be necessary for us to have a talk about the nature of our relationship.”

“Did Arlin get a happy ending, though?” Moana asks. “I mean, she got stuck in that eternal time loop. And wasn’t the implication it was just a fake dream dimension?”

Rapunzel is temporarily distracted from their conversation, watching Jack with Merida and Astrid in a sort of morbid fascination. He pops the earlier-chucked onion ring in his mouth before beginning an elaborate routine to lick up the honey mustard splashed across his cheeks.

Anna shrugs. “Happy comparatively. It was still better than what everyone else got.”

“She had growth, though, man,” Johnny pipes up. Casual but insistent, in the way he has a habit of being. “At least she’s less of a jerk than she was in the beginning. So she kinda deserves it.”

“And Arlin’s psyche is so interesting!” Mavis stretches out her fingers, grinning. “Like…why did she feel so incomplete without kids? She was super well-loved by everyone for like…her whole life, so it’s not like she didn’t have a support system. And she was smart enough and rich enough to basically become whatever she wanted, so…why was she gunning so hard for her own kids? I mean, she could’ve easily been a pediatrician or a teacher or a social worker or something, if she wanted them around so badly. But she was so insistent on being a mom, so like…what is her deal?”

Before she can stop herself, Anna lets out a puff of frustration. “To be honest, it was hard for me to care when she spent most of her screentime being an asshole. Like, I know ‘unlikable main characters’ are the new fad or whatever, but they’re just…draining to watch.”

Mavis gives her a puzzled look. “Really? I love picking them apart. Trying to figure out how they work.” Johnny and Tooth nod emphatically.

Anna frowns. “So you don’t ever get like…aggravated, having to see somebody be a huge jerk over and over?”

Tooth shakes her head, rainbow-dyed hair forming a bright blur around the dark skin of her face. “Not if it’s fiction, no. I mean I would assume any reasonable person would know not to emulate that kind of thing, right?”

“But it’s not like…disheartening?”

Johnny shrugs. “Honestly makes me appreciate real actual nice people more.”

She hears a shifting in the chair next to her, and glances over to see Hiccup turning back toward them. For a time, it seems he was distracted by Jack’s show. The other boy has, to the best of his ability, cleaned the honey mustard off his face, and is now sipping his milkshake and watching Anna—the contrarian of the day, apparently—with great interest.

Hiccup opens his mouth to speak, and Anna preemptively winces. She can only imagine how inane and childish the love of her life will find her views on unlikable characters. Honestly, if this many people are looking at her like she’s nuts, she probably deserves for him to make a snide comment—

“Anything else I can get for you kids? A dessert, maybe?”

A new voice interrupts before Hiccup can realize Anna’s movie takes are probably horrendously wrong. Their waitress is standing by the booth, notepad in hand.

“Oh! Ah—” Hiccup looks down at his lap nervously, and Anna sees his eyes drift to the wallet in his back pocket. His brow creases, a note of sadness drifting onto his face.

She knows what he’s thinking. Even before they started going out, it became second nature for her to tell.

He thinks he can’t afford this.

They’re all broke college students, some more comfortable asking their parents for handouts than others. Hiccup’s the stingiest with money, with his need to prove to his dad he’s independent ensuring he spends nearly every spare moment working on-campus jobs and every paycheck only on rent and essentials. He doesn’t have much left over on less than minimum wage.

But it’s also his birthday.

“Oh—oh no, I think we’ll be okay—”

“I’ve got it.” Anna pulls out her duck-shaped purse and nearly slams it down on the table. “Are you still doing the February special? The one where you sub out chocolate ice cream for strawberry and you get a discount?”

She read about it online when they first picked the place. Something to do with having leftover strawberry-flavored stuff from not as many people ordering Valentine’s desserts as the diner planned, Anna guesses. Today’s technically the first day of March, since Hiccup’s “actual” birthday comes only once every 4 years, but perhaps it’s close enough.

The waitress nods, and Anna launches into the dessert order.

“Can we get a banana split? February special, so two strawberry scoops and a vanilla scoop. Extra caramel and hot fudge sauce. Oh! And, uh…I don’t know if pineapple’s in season this time of year, but if you have any…could you sprinkle a bit on the top?”

After the waitress leaves, Anna turns to see Hiccup gawking at her. “What?”

“I love you.”

He says it with so much force that Anna’s surprised the table doesn’t shake. Several of their friends smirk, and Anna feels her cheeks burn.

“Oh, stop it.” She rolls her eyes, smiling nervously. “It’s your birthday! You deserve nice things.”

“But…that thing costs like $10!” he spluttered, waving his hands around. “Plus tax! And…you remembered I like caramel sauce?”

It’s her turn to stare at him like he’s been claimed by insanity. “I’m in love with you? Duh.”

He dissolves into incoherent stutters, blushing like a madman, and Anna smirks triumphantly.

If her doing a nice gesture can evaporate his dignity this quickly, then perhaps he isn’t exaggerating about the high regard he views her in.

“But back to Arlin,” she says, sitting up a little straighter. “Was it just me or was the scene where she goes on and on to Cyndilla about how she wants a baby completely out of nowhere? It was so annoying—”

“You sure you’re not just projecting because you don’t want any babies?” Jack asks, cutting her off as he slurps annoyingly at his milkshake.

Anna narrows her eyes. “Say that again and I’ll use you as a projectile missile.”

Merida snorts out a laugh, giving Anna an approving nod across the table. “Drag him, lass! Ah swear, someone’s got tae.”

***

It’s snowing when they walk out into the parking lot.

Hiccup shivers, mouth no doubt still feeling the last traces of his birthday sundae. Smiling softly, Anna takes off her puffy magenta jacket and slips it over his shoulders. No trouble getting those skinny arms in the sleeves, though the bottom of the coat hangs a ways above his waist.

He frowns at her. “But aren’t you gonna—”

She pats his arm. “You ate ice cream. You need it more.”

The group is starting to disperse across the curb, finishing up conversations and texting their older friends for rides. No one, save maybe Jack and Rapunzel, seems keen to walk back to the dorms in the snow.

Elsa’s coming to pick Anna up soon. To what Anna’s sure would be the shock of her earlier self, she feels a prick of disappointment. She doesn’t want the night to end.

“I agree with you, by the way,” she murmurs, looping her arms around her boyfriend’s neck. “I think it was pro-inevitability—the movie, I mean. Nothing in the greater timeline changed in any meaningful way—nothing that I noticed, anyhow.”

“Ha!” Hiccup scoffs triumphantly as he wraps an arm around her waist. “I knew it. Jack’s an idiot.”

“But…” She slides a hand into his thick hair, starting to twirl stands around her finger in little circlets. “I also think its entire statement on inevitability was complete bullshit.”

He looks taken aback, leaning away from her. This only presses him farther into her massaging fingers. “What? Really?”

“Yeah, absolutely.” She snickers. “Nothing is inevitable. There’s so many of these like…” She shakes her head. “Chaotic…chance…equation things I could never hope to understand that determine the probability of everything. And as I do understand it, they have to line up just so for literally anything to happen. Saying any cause will only ever produce one specific effect no matter what, and no matter if new outside stuff crops up and complicates everything—which it inevitably will, by the way, because random unexpected shit is always happening—seems…pretty improbable to me? Like, saying you can’t avoid a certain thing when there’s so many factors that have to work together to lead to any like…event…thing, and there’s like a billion other slightly and largely-varying event kinda things possible, acting like one is all special-weshial and can’t be altered no matter what seems kinda stupid.”

“So you’re saying…nothing is inevitable?”

“Yup. Same way nothing is certain-certain.”

“Oh? So not even us falling madly in love?”

Anna scowls at him as her cheeks begin to burn. “Okay, first of all, stop trying to be cute when I’m getting a point across. Second of all, especially that.”

She snorts mockingly, and Hiccup raises an eyebrow. “Care to elaborate? I mean…I had a crush on you for ages. You liked me even longer. Why wouldn’t we have gotten together?”

She rolls her eyes. “Oh, we had all kinds of things working against us. You were so dead convinced I was out of your league for some reason, and I was terrified you’d friendzone me and it would like…totally ruin me. No offense.”

He boyfriend shrugs. “None taken.”

“Point being that it would have been so easy for both of us to just never say anything. And voila! There you have it! No more being in love and making everyone else tell us to get a room.”

She spares a sidelong glance at Merida, who’s currently glaring at them with her tongue stuck out.

“Well, we’d still be in love though, right?” Hiccup says, frowning. “We’d just be a lot more miserable about it?”

“Not necessarily. Maybe one or both of us would meet someone else we were convinced was our soulmate or whatever, and we’d get super obsessed with them. Like, to the point it seemed stupid to like anyone else. Or I’d get frustrated when you put walls up like Elsa did, and I’d stop trying to get through to you. Or you’d hear me fart in class or something, and then decide I was disgusting and never worth considering as a romantic option again.”

He pouts. “You really think I’m that shallow?”

“I doubt it.” She shrugs. “But it’s what I’ve come to expect. You ever hear that ‘never ever ever do anything gross or lame in front of the guy you like or he’ll be turned off and never consider liking you back ever again’ stuff on the internet? Had me watching my every move around you for a long time.”

Hiccup scoffs. “Well, you didn’t need to. I’ve known for years that you snore, and sometimes you stink to high heaven because you forget to put your deodorant on in the morning, and you can get so overwhelmed that you can’t bring yourself to shower for days, and you still have all your toys from when you were a kid, and you love predictable and critically-panned movies because surprises and endless trope inversions stress you out, and you panic when you have to make big decisions or decisions where you think people will hate you for getting it wrong, and guess what? I still love you.”

His volume drifts up on the last sentence, like he’s speaking over a blizzard instead of a light, silent snow shower. Anna catches glimpses of several of their friends turning to look at them.

She tenses against him, sliding her hand out of his hair. Suddenly she’s looking at the snowy concrete, unable to meet her boyfriend’s eyes. “Why do you always say it like that?”

“Say it like what?”

“Like…like loud like that. So like…any old person can hear.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Aren’t you embarrassed?” She finally looks up, grimacing slightly. “I mean—well, it’s just—I guess I wonder—aren’t I embarrassing?”

He looks genuinely perplexed. “…are you? This is news to me.”

“You’re not like…” She bites her lip anxiously, somewhat dreading the blunt answer she knows she’s going to get. Her voice softens, as though if she speaks too quietly for him to hear, she’ll have an excuse to drop the subject and put off learning what has to be a painful truth.

“You’re not embarrassed to be with me? Like…at all?”

To her surprise, his confusion only grows. “In what world would I be embarrassed to be with you?”

“I mean…I’m barely passing college. I’m addicted to Starbucks and posting food pics on Instagram and a bunch of other unoriginal ‘basic girl’ stuff. I can’t go more than a few sentences without accidentally saying something stupid. I’m super gross and can’t take care of myself half the time. My brain overwhelms itself over the dumbest things, and then I can’t function at all. I’m not really on track to become anything like…exceptional. And smart people movies fry my brain, and I probably form a whole host of bad opinions about them while I’m watching them. I’m kind of a failure.”

After a small pause, Hiccup lets out a deep sigh. “Okay, I don’t even know where to start with all that. First of all, half that stuff doesn’t matter to me. That’s what I’ve always told you, and like…let’s be real, I’m not a good liar. If I was bullshitting, you’d know by now.” He shakes his head, smiling fondly. “If any of those things did bother me on any significant level, I can assure you I never would have gone out with you in the first place. I knew you long enough to know what I was getting into, Anna. Secondly…”

He casts a glance behind her, Anna following his gaze. Jack is stuffing snow down a giggling Rapunzel’s shirt, the smug air from earlier long gone. Anna looks back to see Hiccup rolling his eyes.

“I didn’t get most of Cold Life, either. Really, I was humoring Jack more than anything, but it’s no crime not to be able to wrap your head around that clusterfuck of a movie. I was impressed that you were able to analyze as much as you did. Thirdly…”

His hands slide up her waist to firmly grasp her shoulders. “You need to listen to me here. You’re the farthest thing from a failure. You get up every morning and you work your ass off ten times harder than anyone I know—just to get through the day. You bite and claw your way through advanced high school classes and college applications and now these terrifying exams that are worth 60% of your grade, and you still somehow find the energy to look out for me when I can’t do it myself. You keep on smiling and trying to see the best in everyone and everything, even when people are awful to you and you feel like no one wants you around—absolutely not true, by the way. Honestly, I do all right in school because a lot of technical, mathy stuff comes easily to me, but…” He smiles meekly. “I wish I had half the resilience you do. I wish I knew how to bounce back when I do eventually find a class that’s too much, because gods know it takes the balls of steel you have. Or…” His cheeks flush in embarrassment. “Boobs of steel, I guess.”

“Nice.” Anna grins. “I have natural protection if someone tries to stab my lungs!”

“Precisely.”

“But…” She meets his eyes, a little embarrassed by how desperate she probably looks. “You think there’s still hope for me?”

“Absolutely. You just haven’t found your niche yet. Which is fine—most people our age haven’t, despite what stupid college marketing campaigns will try to tell you. But when you do find it? I know you’re going to kill it. Zero doubt in my mind. When you funnel all that energy into something, it’s going to blow people away.”

And then Anna Runeardsen stands on her tiptoes (curse her boyfriend’s growth spurt the last year of high school—now he towers over her and it’s really rather unfair) and kisses Hiccup Haddock like never before.

They’ve kissed probably dozens of times at this point, some more memorable than others. This one feels different, though—like something straight out of a cheesy Hallmark Christmas movie.

(One where the actors have good chemistry, though. Not those lifeless budget movie kisses where it looks like two fish trying to eat each other.)

Her hand slides back up into his hair, and she breathes him in. He tastes like Oreos and hot fudge and ice cream and a shameless burst of self-confidence when she needs it the most. His lips are dry and chapped from the cold late winter air, but Anna doesn’t mind. It’s him, and that’s what matters to her.

Her heart still pounds every time, just like it did holding hands with him for the first time during a 6th grade game of Red Rover. All these years, and he still makes her feel like she’s floating on a summer breeze, wildflower aromas all around her and the sun in her hair.

Ironically, being with him is also as tranquil and easy as cloud-watching in the grass on a clear day. He excites her endlessly and keeps her grounded all at once, and she doesn’t know what she’d do without him.

Nearby, she can hear Merida gagging. This only makes Anna kiss her boyfriend harder.

When she pulls away, Hiccup’s hair is dotted with snowflakes. She smiles, brushing it out fondly.

“So,” she says cheekily. “Out of all the infinite possible timelines we exist in, I’m glad I’m in the one where I got to date you.”

He raises an eyebrow teasingly. “Are you sure? There’s probably several where you marry some famous actor, and get to livestream from a private pool all day.”

“Well…if you get that Silicon Valley job you’re striving for…” She pokes him playfully in the chest. “What’s the difference? Financially, anyhow.”

He raises a teasing eyebrow. “Anna, I don’t think you understand how money works—”

“Sure I do. There’s three categories of the monetary elite: ‘Rich’, ‘Richer’, and ‘Filthy Fucking Rich.’ And I, sir, am more than happy to just be in the ‘Rich’ category.”

He gives her a skeptical look, and she wonders if he knows she’s joking. She quickly backtracks.

“Or not. We could also be mega-broke together. I’m all right with living in a cardboard box under the freeway as long as I’m doing it with you.”

“Yeah, don’t get your hopes up about being rich.” He leans forward and kisses the side of her head. “I don’t think it’s time for us to start packing our bags for San Jose yet. I haven’t even passed my upper divs.”

Anna snorts. “You will, though. You really are the smartest person I know.”

“Maybe you have low standards, then.”

“I absolutely do not.”

“Debatable.”

There’s the soft crumbling of snow under tires, and Anna looks past Hiccup’s mop of brown hair to see a pale blue fiat pulling up to the curb.

“Looks like my ride’s here.” She leans up and plants a last kiss on his cheek. “We’ll have to continue this dispute some other time.”

“Good.” Hiccup snorts, crossing his arms. “You’ll have adequate time to realize you’re wrong.”

“I’m not,” she says breezily. “But even if I was, and you start failing absolutely every class starting tomorrow…” She blows him a kiss as she backs toward Elsa’s car. “You know I’m sticking with you no matter what, babe.”

“I love you!” He shouts the words at her as she closes the car door, loud enough for all their friends to glance at him again. Elsa snorts with laughter.

“Seems like your relationship is in terrible jeopardy,” she deadpans.

Anna snickers as her sister drives away. “Oh, yeah. I’m so concerned.”

***

...y’know, I thought up the “Eugene takes the twins to monster truck shows” completely on accident, but now I can’t stop thinking about it, like. Hilarious yet oddly wholesome??? For whoever was asking for more interactions between the side/supporting RotBTFD characters, I come here to deliver XD

Yes, Anna swears like a sailor because the only reason she canonically doesn’t is because she’s in a disney franchise XD She’s also older and wiser and just a little more cynical and not nearly as sold on the concepts of “destiny” and “one true love” as she once was XD I also find it extremely funny that I was combing over the dialogue and noticing some of Anna’s lines sounded more Hiccup-esque than I intended, and vice-versa...but then I realized that adopting someone’s speech patterns and mannerisms happens naturally when you date them/are around them a lot ;____; They’re absorbing parts of each other because they’re in love hELP

Amateur psychologist Mavis is so valid, I love her ;____;

For whatever reason I feel with an odd certainty that Hiccup would be a caramel guy. Also I was inspired by him ordering a pina colada milkshake in one of @lovestrucklyuniverse‘s fics and now I think he’s a pineapple guy too.

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vinxwatches · 6 months

Text

(re)watching Transformers: Prime season 1

this was a series that was on during a time, but i don't think i ever saw the end or even a lot of it, though i do remember the motorcycle robot well and thought she was really cool (may have been lesbianism or gender envy), and Red from OSP mentioned is with some regularity which has kept it in my mind. also it was what i was watching when i got picked up to see my sibling for the first time after they were born and i remember being quite annoyed i had to stop watching the show, which clearly has stuck with me for way too long.

ep1 darkness rising, p1

well, it almost looks good. almost, but the lighting engine is just too weak to pull most things off. the graphic quality just doesn't seem to be able to pull of what they want it to. the terrain is extremely low in quality. i expect that to get a lot better, not just with seasons but even though the first season as they build up more assets.

damn that wasn't long for the first death. might also explain why he didn't look great. how much time do you put into a character that exists for 5 minutes?

it's interesting to see an enemy with a plan we know at least in part will fail as they don't truly have the element of surprise. for protagonists it's common, classic tragedy stuff. but never for antagonists.

wow, real subtle guys. two dark purple spiky cars driving like assholes. no one will ever notice anything up. also pausing really reveals how bad things blend. the entire scene has motion blur Except the characters. even still the action is surprisingly good. i just hope the human cast won't be unbearable.

small dextrous fighter dodging around strikes for larger opponents that she can take down? well if that isn't my favourite. no seriously that's always what i try to play in games. i'm no good at hit but it's my fucking jam.

oh she has way too much detail to be a background character. i don't remember this goth girl at all for some reason though. she does have the best personality so far though (yes i like enthusiastic characters)

good way to make him intimidating: give his every footstep a screen shake.

i thought they were going to go somewhat light on combat. NOPE. the bad guys will cut people in half. the good guys will do a fancy kick move of someone's neck and take their head off.

and sometimes it's Very ps2.

damn, it didn't take long at all for the villain to make a turn for the monstrous. i thought that would be season finally or at least mid finally shit. oh shit i think i remember that tiny robot very well, may well have inspired a lot of things i've come up with over the years.

man they really use a lot of plotpoints in the opening multi parter. my fear is that that'll result in a very status quo no progress middle of the season.

i'm getting the feeling that they either don't have the ability or time to fully render some scenes which is why some turn out way worse then others.

and of course the military can't be shown as truly bad.

seriously that the undead army is already a thing is worrying to me. where do you get to go beyond that? "if your opponents are already dead how can we defeat them?" you stop them from being able to move.

ah, they are trying to give the humans a purpose... good luck.

blades extended straight out of the forearm. seems rather impractical. severely limits the amount of cuts you can make as you can't edge align, and these blades seem really short.

the boy walks away... i'm sure i'm supposed to be sad about it, but i'm really not. he added nothing other then being whiny. he'd obvious return. got to have a "default" guy, lets hope he find a bloody use. because responsible isn't interesting.

ok, pretty good threat for what to avoid in the future.

i repeat again: a LOT of big plot point early. i'm afraid for the rest of the series.

transformers is pretty big on defending the home you didn't choose. there's a really harmful message in that. patriotism is incredibly dangerous, which is part of why america is so dangerous, to others and too itself. it's also big on them choosing to defending the home they didn't choose. there's a much less harmful message in that.

Masters and Students

oh, Starscream has a goa to work towards. will it be one episode or a seasonal thing?

"you are a motorcycle, shouldn't you know how to put one together?" "you are a human, can you build me a small intestine". there are some significant differences (motorcycles are designed and lack most useless parts while humans are not and our internals are a bloody mess design wise). but also fair point and fucking funny.

also neat choice to make soundwave, who acts the most like a robot, a drone in plane form.

oh i think i remember this episode. at least the science project subplot i hated.

Con Job

oh yea, he has the high villain shoulders.

Convoy

i was going to say that there were less and less ps2 moments. then they introduced a new setting and yea it's not looking great.

pretty good ending speech and pretty interesting concept for future plots.

Speed Metal

fucking hell don't say "that's my girl" it's fucking weird and gross.

at least they aren't (currently) pairing up the main human male and female character because i don't trust this show to do that well.

Predatory

oh shit we're diving into some heavy shit here. i'm afraid spider lady will be an obvious bad guy.

damn there's serious PTSD going on here. and how RC seems perfectly equipped to fight her could be extremely deep story telling if you read it that the made herself perfect to fight exactly her again.

Sick Mind

ok, they found the hidden enemy ship. so things are maybe moving forward. also really telling that they'll try a rescue of someone they don't know over hitting the enemy they know they have.

a plague ship. such a cool idea. so sad that it's currently probably a bit bad taste to use for things like ttrpgs. though if it's like a necrotic disease. zombies that turn you into zombies by biting you it's probably fine to use.

oh, inside someone's brain episode? really liked those in the owl house, lets see how they visualize it and what they do with it.

"i have thoroughly researched the theoretical literature" and today in least confidence boosting sentences.

interesting it's bumblebee and nor rc. i wonder why.

damn, smart play by bumbles, smart counterplay by megatron. not smart enough. really cool.

not to inventive with the visuals, but probably the coolest episode so far, maybe with predatory. and damn that cliffhanger.

Out of His Head

powerplays between the two people conspiring together. very interesting dynamic.

ok, megatron is back, things do move... and no one seems to be too bothered about it atm. i'm guessing that's what the next episode starts with.

Shadowzone

oh damn, starstream going to use the dark energon in desperation to be level the playingfield.

oh hey, people being out of phase, i recently saw this startreck episode. damn, and they left most of a zombie in the other phase. that'll be interesting for the future.

Operation: Breakdown

damn, how much transformer gore will we see in this one? just one lose eye and where it was supposed to go, kind of a letdown

Crisscross

fucking hell this episode is going brutal. more brutal then the breakdown episode.

Metal Attraction

damn, first instance of damage being permanent.

so they try to make the mom look bad by being over protective. but we don't get any sense that most recon missions go perfectly smoothly and safely. now i'm sure that's like characters in stories going to the toilet, but it does make it feel like they are very often dangerous making the mom seem more then reasonable. they also try to make RC seem over protective even though she takes them on missions she believes are safe and sends them back when dangers shows. i don't think they'll make the conclusion stick well.

i wonder how permanent they'll make those very neat retributive cuts. she seems like the type who'd keep them until she killed the one that gave them.

oh, his dad left... i though he might have died... that's either a much stronger stance, or his father will be revealed later making it much less interesting because we've seen that dozens of times. and they didn't make them worrying the bad thing they did, but instead not accepting change. surprisingly well handled.

Rock Bottom

not like this (be burried under a metric fuckton of rock and then drilled to death)... why not? a swift, easy end to one of the biggest threats. boring for the series? sure. but they could have made it saving before attacking and it would have made total sense.

Partners

i just realized the autobots make for a pretty standard 5 man band... sort of. some are easy. like bulkhead is the obvious big buy, ratchet is the obvious smart guy. now arcee and optimus are obvious leader and lancer. but you could question who's who. for the leader optimus is rather rarely the focus... but yea no he's the leader. and arcee is a neat lancer being the smallest compared to the largest, nimble and dodging instead of standing his grown and tanking. which would make bumblebee the heart which makes total sense.

if anyone would turn coat starscream would make some sense... but also not as he'd want to tripplecross. however he thinks he'll get more.

T.M.I.

damn this episode felt like one of the writers was struggling trough a family member suffering dementia.

Stronger, Faster

i think i remember this episode. unless the energy problem keeps coming up.

i mean... is what he's saying not true though? he's saying it like an asshole, sure, but what did he say that was wrong?

are you really giving the decepticons two corrupted forms of energon? seems redundant.

One Shall Rise, Part 1.

the only vagally reasonable natural threat to europe is something weird that kills power. sorry, it's just bizarre how safe Europe is compared to the rest of the world. this is not a flex, Europe is life on easy mod.

on the one side that's some cool lore. on the other i'd love it if for once something was called "the blood of X" and it's just myth, nothing more. not the plot twist of "the blood of X was Actually the blood of X and not just a fancy name".

One Shall Rise, Part 3.

damn, that's one hell of a cliffhanger for season 2. sure, the threat is defeated, but now the decepticons have optimus.

#Transformers: Prime season 1 #Transformers: Prime

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eurofox · 1 year

Text

Just finished Visage and it was great, better than I was expecting and I didn't feel it was too expensive for what it was.

The PT inspiration is obvious and they acknowledge that, there's several silent hill references and one ghost shares a lot of similarities with Lisa. Amnesia is another strong influence, the sanity loss in darkness but this wasn't implemented as well imo. It was hard to see and occasionally went down when I was standing in light with nothing happening and just seemed random at times, which felt unfair.

The atmosphere is top notch, I rarely feel unease because I've played so many of these games but I definitely did here with headphones on. Nice soundtrack as well and the way it changes as they get closer was very effective. Although I did notice some of the spooky effects getting reused. Sometimes I felt like I was being chased when I actually wasn't and I was sometimes procrastinating to avoid going into an area I knew I needed to go because shit was bound to happen. Having separate chapters helped as you weren't dealing with the same ghost every time and it stopped it getting stale. The lighting especially looks great.

Controls are not good. You don't do much, just walk and look around mostly with occasional item use so it's not game ruining. It's very fiddly and you can't hold much and will have to drop things. Which will probably despawn so don't expect to find them later. This gets VERY irritating in a chapter with a sledgehammer that requires two hands. I get the idea that fumbling around with items makes it scarier but here it just felt annoying and badly designed. Also some items you can use while others need a specific interaction which is also confusing but this is rare. You're character is also pretty slow, again not bad but when you're going around in circles you'll wish you were a bit faster.

The game is longer than I was expecting though,perhaps too long. Even with the different chapters some of the tricks did start to get a little old after awhile. Lights going off eventually just gets tiresome, especially when I'm trying to find out what to do, and that's the big problem with this game.

This game is vague AS FUCK. Your character never says a word except grunts and his story is vague too. It has an edgy opening, your character murders his whole family and then himself, but other than that you just start in the house with items leading to random chapters, with the 'hub' also containing stories. There's no hint whatsoever about what to do first and arguably it doesn't matter, but I looked I went to a guide at this point. There was an order intially, and I chose to do a 'shit sandwich' based on internet opinion chapter 1,3 and then 2. The stories do kind of tie to the main character but only slightly, and none of them are groundbreaking or very original. But they are fun and spooky. There's some social commentary on mental health I suppose, but I didn't find it to be as insightful as some people were saying tbh.

The first is a about a little girl haunted by a spirit. This is a classic ghost story. Guessing the ring/grudge influenced this one. You know what to expect here and it's done very well. Jumped a few times with this one, even in such well trod territory.

Second is another haunting but a bit more human focused. This was my favourite story and probably the scariest. It's also where you have to use that stupid sledgehammer to smash mirrors that lead to puzzles. Although I enjoyed the story the lack of hints here as to what to do and in what order really got annoying. I ran out of lighters and restarted the chapter with a guide. Hate doing that but I would have been stuck wandering round clueless for ages. And there's no journal or anything so not doing this chapter in a single sitting wouldn't be ideal. It involves backtracking and remembering the layout of different areas. The ghost here is the most unsettling and I didn't even have as many of the freaky encounters other people have recorded.

Chapter 3 was the weakest imo. The ghost is the least scary, it's just some guy really, and it's more like an outlast clone. It has a few chase sequences that don't work well in a game where you can't really run. They were going more for stress/panic here and it's far more linear. You also leave the house several times, a nice change of scenery I guess but it was mostly corridors. There's also an event here that repeats a few times and it got dull. It also has a boss fight of sorts. There is also an action you can perform here that is never used anyhere else in the game with no clues to do so and I was actually locked in a room because of it. I had to restart, near the beginning thankfully, but still. I'm glad I did this chapter second as it would have been a bum note to end on. There's nothing new here and I just wanted it over and done with so I could get to the other chapter.

The hub has videos you can watch to piece together clues about the main character by investigating the locations in the clips. This is the where more of the surreal horror comes into play. There is another spirit here as well. What you learn however, is again, pretty vague and open to interpretation. And any links people make to the other characters seem to be personal theories from what I've seen. There are 2 endings, and personally, I feel the 'bad' ending was better. Frankly, even when I learned more about the main character, I still didn't care about him at all. I can't remember caring less about a character in fact. He's no James Sunderland, put it that way (and I don't like James either, but he had his moments)

One thing I wish this game had was an 'easy' or 'safe' mode like SOMA had, with more clues on what to actually do and maybe an unlimited lighter. Meandering around slowly without a guide on chapter 2 running out of supplies got very tedious, also getting killed in pitch black isn't even scary either.

There are other things that I was confused by, but it would get spoilerish so I'll make a separate post.

For a Kickstarter/indie game, it was beyond what I was expecting. Aside from a few minor things, it was really good overall and well worth checking out.

#visage #pt #silent hills

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kyberphilosopher · 3 years

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Androphobia

Requested? No Word Count: 7014

An Android attempts to offer comfort to someone with sleeping trouble.

Androphobia [an·drow·fow·bee·uh]; Fear of or aversion to men. A related concept is misandry, the hatred of men, but not necessarily fear of them.

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ *

Every woman or female born member of society has experienced an off putting encounter with a man.

This is not to be entirely blamed on men- not as a whole, no. But individuals, the ones you run into on your way out of the grocery store, the ones who stop you on the streets, they are the ones to blame. Some women have the guts to tell them off. Not an easy task with the given anxiety, but one to take pride in for the capability that comes with it. Some women stay quiet, rush away as fast as their polite feet can take them and hope someone will see the problem. They usually don’t. And some women are outliers, tricking their ways out of interactions with these men one way or another, and to them I take my hat off.

There are men who are easily construed as monsters, when in the dead of night their silhouettes flash beneath the tallest of streetlights. And there is no reason to not believe them as such right then and there, for as spoken by our Lady Galadriel, “the hearts of men are easily corrupted.” And any look into statistics will back up this fear, any personal experience, any hug that’s gone on just a bit too suspiciously long, any catching of those wandering eyes and it’s easy to feel in your heart that men are not to be trusted. They are not to be confronted, nor left alone with, and they will jump at the opportunity to put down anyone for the validation of other men.

This is the reality of women and men in 2021. It is the same for several in 2039.

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ *

You step out of your old, dusty car. Chips of the dark red paint flake away as the raindrops hit it. Above you, the gloomy, warm gray clouds roll against each other in different shades and sizes, high above the skyscrapers and the stress of the world.

Gathering your belongings for the day, you shut the door with your hip and shoulder everything. Then you make your way towards the Police Department, your work, with the heels of your shoes scuffing against the parking lot.

Across the way, you can see Detective Reid, who rubs his brow while he does his usual slamming of the car door. There’s no point in looking for Hank at this ungodly hour, he’d never be in on time. He’ll probably park his car next to yours as usual- a little too close so it’s hard to squeeze into your own and pull out without causing his vehicle damage, but you never say anything. Not because you are one of the people who feel threatened by Hank as a man- It’s more because you trust Hank as a person, that you’d never bring up the obvious annoyances he places upon you and everyone else. Though, once you had tried.

(“Cars parked a little close, don’t you think?”

“Shut the hell up.”)

The inside of the Department is bustling. A female Android brushes past you briskly, the others at the front desk all seemingly click clacking away in their own brains. Even months after they’ve gained independence, it’s not uncommon for you to remember how they were before. How still and lifeless they were. And looking back on it, it was awfully sad. They seem busier now, more alive and fast. A strange image, in your mind, but not an unwelcomed one.

You reach your desk in the lobby, on the right side of the room slightly separated from the officers. You’re a psychologist, so it’s not plausible for you to be seated next to bias. Instead you’re in your own corner, with a rather cluttered desk on the top and empty rows of drawers. You do, however, keep a small japanese cherry blossom tree on the top, courtesy of Hank, though his has all but fully withered at this point.

And then you’re ready to start your day. Pull out your chair, click your pen and type away reports and notes on the computer to send to the detectives. You don’t have any meetings scheduled today, so there’ll be no need to prepare questions or anything of the sort. Just an easy day.

And then...

As you and I, the dear reader, have already discussed, finding men to be generally scary is an easy task. And even though you are smart enough to know that it’s simply not possible to truly believe that every man or male presenting individual is terrible, or has done terrible things, or has experienced the desire to do something terrible, there are times where you can’t help the cautiousness. You can’t help the flinch, the distrust, the physical distance, the hand in your pocket grasping for anything to use in self defense. Seeing men like Detective Reid in power, brutish and given guns and easily agitated, certainly doesn’t help.

So when you swish your chair around and come to a stand, your heart drops. You’re looking into the presence of someone tall, with broad shoulders and a strong chest. A man.

[Sort of.]

“Good morning, Doctor L/N.”

“Connor,” you breathe out, eyes flitting down as you attempt to quiet the thump thump thumping of your heart in your throat. “I- I didn’t-”

“Your heart race has increased. You appear stressed, Doctor L/N.”

He cocks his robotic head to the side, his eyebrows creasing as the literal gears in his head turn.

“You just startled me,” you admit, grabbing the back of your chair and moving it over as an excuse to create a bit of distance between you and the [possible] threatening force. “What is it, Connor?”

Now, for context, you and he were not considered close. You’ve spoken a few times, though never as friends, only friendly. You remember seeing him last Winter, when he would stand out in the snow outside the station, just gazing up after Hank had already returned to his own home. You remembered how he was different from the other Androids, besides being more advanced to begin with. You’d never said anything about that. It was obvious the only person it would’ve really mattered to, Hank, was already aware of this. And Hank liked Connor. There was no point in interfering.

In Connor’s eyes, you could really do no wrong. You were smart, intelligent, and diligent in your work. Your job had been threatened by the presence of Androids for years by the time Connor had showed up, but it still appeared that they wouldn’t have done your legacy justice. But despite this, interactions were scarce. You were not friends. You were friendly. And you were always on your guard.

“I was hoping to hear your thoughts on a case Lieutenant Anderson and I have been working on,” Connor tells you. He’s always made efforts to keep eye contact with people, and the tilt of his head tries to follow your eyeline to do so. But it’s never to any avail. “I apologize for the abruptness, but the thought only occured to me last night and I think it could be a good one.”

“Yeah, sure,” you answer. “I can help with that. I’ll get the details from Hank when he comes in.”

“No need,” the Android quickly assures you. When you look up to him for a brief second, you can see his tongue sway against his bottom lip, creating the softest of imprints. His dark eyes glitter like a beatles in the catch from the light above.

He produces a light, manilla colored folder lined inside with papers. “I hope you’ll find all the details you need here,” he explains, offering the file to you.

You take it after a moment, watching his thumb let go in the softest, most normal way possible.

“Thank you, Doctor L/N,” Connor smiles. “I’ll go get you your morning coffee.”

Connor is like a dog in that way. Not in an insulting way, or an obedient way. In a kind way, in a warm way. With his chocolate eyes and the dimples when he smiles, it’s hard not to want to just believe that he is incapable of hurting anyone or anything. Especially a woman.

But when you snap back to reality, you can see his male form. His set back shoulders, the robotic strength, the fact that he was programmed to execute any task he so desires. And then you’re right back on edge, wanting to step back from him until you’re sure you can take a full breath.

It’s easier when he’s taken himself away. You can see him through the glass walls in the kitchen, waiting for the pot to heat up. Doesn’t seem so bad from far away, like most of them do.

You return to the chair and open the file. At first, your eyes flit to the pictures attached at the top- one of a woman that looks so familiar, another of a man whose angry brows cover his eyes. Then they move to the written report, and something clicks.

The woman in the picture was an acquaintance from college. The man next to her was the main suspect, and apparently her lover.

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ *

“Morning Doc,” Hank waves tiredly. Then his tone changes slightly. “The fuck are ya doing at my desk for?”

You push yourself from your lean on the edge of his property anxiously. “I read the report on your case. The Carla Rodriguez one.”

Hank sighs in his classic sigh, tired and grumpy from the morning and being alive. “What about it?” he questions, rummaging through his large bag of prescription pill bottles he’s brought with him every day this year. You suspect Connor has something to do with this.

“I had a... personal relationship with the victim,” you begin, crossing your arms. “I knew her.”

Hank looks at you, bewildered. “You were sleeping with my victim?”

“What? No. What? I- anyway. Carla and I were in college together.”

Hank’s face changes. He leans back with high raised brows in the way he does when processing something.

“The boyfriend did it. I remember him from back then, I think. Real angry guy.”

“You’re sure you know what you’re talkin about?” Hank questions you, though not in an insulting way. You know it’s anything but that.

“I’m sure. I can tell you what you need but you know I can’t testify. You won’t be able to use my bias in your report.”

“But the bias is the whole point.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, along with your shoulders. It’s the universal symbol for ‘I don’t know what to tell you’.

“You talked to Connor about this?”

“Well, no. I- he wanted my opinion but I didn’t tell him this part.”

Hank glances around. “Where's he at anyway?”

You shrug again. You’re thinking about the disposable coffee cup on your desk, left there by Connor a few hours ago, that you’d never brought yourself to touch.

“Run it by the Android before we do anything,” Hank advises you. “Nutjob’s got this whole system in his head.”

“Yeah,” you mutter as Hank seats himself. “That guy’s weird.”

“Tellin’ me?” Hank groans.

And the rest of the morning you spend avoiding Connor, thinking at your desk, barely doing your job while you let yourself get lost in thought. You’re not usually like this. You’re very professional at work- you love this job. The thrill, the learning about criminals and their rehabilitation- it makes you feel so tranquil. Complete, even.

But knowing a victim, knowing the perpetrator, still adapting to the change of Androids looking happy for once, knowing Hank pretends you’re the child he lost- it... it...

You snap your drawer shut.

What’s wrong with you today?

You huff out dry air. When you turn ever so slightly, you can see Hank at his desk, eyes already on you with concerned and empathetic brows. Seeing him calms you down a little, at least makes you feel more in the real moment. After a moment, you turn back straight. Then you smooth back your hair, and open a your file again.

“Doctor L/N?”

You look up slowly, recognizing the boyish, sturdy voice of Connor. Sure enough, there he is. Tall, looking down at you with his warm, brown eyes. They remind you of an excited, loyal dog. Yeah, you think, Connor seems like a dog person.

And then you catch the sharpness of how broad his shoulders are, how little effort it would take for him to kill you, or pin you down, or come at you in the dark.

“Can I speak with you candidly, Doctor L/N?”

“You...may,” you say slowly. Connor begins to squat, until he is level with your eyeline, though he’s over on the other side of your desk. From your view, your cherry blossoms pink petals stand out against the paleness of his skin, and then the darkness of his hair.

“I heard what you said earlier to the Lieutenant,” he begins.

Truthfully, your eyes flicker around his face, mostly between his lips and his nose and his eyes. They’re all so realistic. Well, obviously that was the point in his creation, but still. They’re so human. Connor is human. Even the way he seems to move his mouth, like his lips are just a little dry, is human. Such a strange detail. Perhaps you would never have noticed it if he hadn’t gotten this close.

“When?” you question.

“About 3 hours ago, about the file I gave you.”

Your eyes snap away. Connor’s own eyes follow your movement.

“I know that this must be difficult for you-”

“Connor,” you sigh, slightly exasperated, but still holding it together. Your eyes close like you can’t bear to look at anything in the present moment right now. You must be trying to pretend that you’re somewhere else. “I’ll be alright. This was in my job description.”

The Android’s eyebrows knit for a split second, confused. “Overseeing the psychology behind your friends death was in your job description?”

And it’s a genuine question from him. That’s what makes it so hard to contain your laughter, no matter how frustrated or overwhelmed you are right now.

“Yeah,” you finally muster with a light chuckle. “Apparently.” Then you’re back to business. “This is my job. I’ll be alright. Thank you for your concern.”

“I just considered that, since you’ve been on the news before, the suspect could know that you’re involved.”

“So?” you ask, slightly more snappy than intended.

“He may know you’re here and subsequently attempt to cause you harm.”

There are two conflicting sides in your brain right now. The first one says: Now think about this. How could he harm you in a place full of cops? It’s not like he knows where you live or anything. How could he even find that out? When they bring him in, he’ll be in custody the whole time. Gavin won’t let him out of those handcuffs. Everything will be just fine.

And the other part? It shows you a dark, masculine figure, looming over you. Police department or not, he is there. He will cause you grief and harm, do something so terrible to you you could not even fully imagine it enough to anticipate yourself.

And, despite your better judgement, and to your full awareness, you listen to the second half.

“Okay, so,” you breathe out. “So what are you saying?”

Connor’s eyes draw to his left in a stutter, his mouth parting as if he’s in consideration. “The Lieutenant and I had talked about... having you stay in a... safer place.”

Your eyebrows pinch together. “What do you mean by that?”

Connor looks so human in this moment. it’s so apparent, and piercing in this exact second. The details in his eyes, slightest of blemishes on his cheekbones.

Connor leans in, his eyebrows raising. Subconsciously, you lean back ever so slightly in response.

“We were thinking of taking you to the Lieutenants place.” He sees your eyes widen, getting ready to give a vocal response. “It’s a very safe place,” Connor promises. “I can assure you there are many rooms to your liking.”

You take a minute, looking the Android right in his warm, hopeful, perfectly symmetrical eyes. “Connor, I’m not interested in having this discussion right now.”

“It’s just-”

“Back off,” you snap. It’s assertive. Something you don’t usually do towards masculine presenting beings.

As soon as you say it, you regret it, however. The person across from you just looks so heartbroken, almost. His big brown eyes, the ones that remind you of a loyal dog, are looking right at you. How could you not feel bad for snapping at Connor? Sweet Connor, who doesn’t take pleasure in hurting people no matter how much you convince yourself he does.

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ *

The Carla Rodriguez murder case went on for two more days. Her boyfriend, unfortunately, was not yet found. Hank was working on obtaining a warrant based on your instincts that would give him access to search family members houses for the man. Things were becoming focused.

Each night you went home, you struggled to sleep. You did in fact, find out that Connor may have been onto something when he suggested the consideration of safety. You indeed stayed up later than usual, using both locks on your dirty apartment door for once. It was hard to fall asleep. Whenever you did, it became all too easy for you to imagine a solid, big, broad shouldered figure standing over the foot of your bed, waiting to strike.

A man, as usual.

Ironically, you did feel better when Hank- a man- would come into the station. And then there was Connor, who was somewhere between a puppy and a wolf, half following Hank, half fully capable of loading and discharging a gun. Connor made you feel safe too, but only by association. It felt bad to think about him after the snapping that occurred Thursday, but it could’ve made you feel worse to act unprofessionally in the work place. It was best you try to forget it, and try to forget that Connor has unlimited and invincible memory.

On Sunday, you and Hank had your weekly scheduled lunch. Nothing fancy, just fast food from a food truck by the train tracks. You’ll both probably get burgers, except Hank will try to add lettuce and some vegan bullshit to convince you he’s sticking to his diet. Of course he will.

You throw the keys to your locker in the backroom into your desk drawer, and slip it closed. Across the floor, Hank is already ahead of you, tugging on his crappy jacket and somehow standing patiently and grumpily at the same time.

“Ready to go?” you ask as you approach him, your own jacket in hand.

“Yeah, just waitin’ for the kid,” Hank replies casually.

“The kid?”

“I’m ready to go, Lieutenant,” the enthusiastic voice of Connor rings out. He has one of those voices where you can tell when he’s happy and smiling too, and he is in this very moment.

Nobody ever joins you and Hank. You knew Hank had taken Connor to the truck before, but that was just between them, and this was just between you. An odd decision on Hank’s part to make such a change.

“Alright,” Hank calls back. Then he turns to you, the smallest of knowing grins on his face. “Ready when you are, Doctor.”

You just nod your head and start walking out to Hank’s car, unsure of what to do think. In the end, you decide to just not think at all.

“What are you doing this for?” you’d ask Hank as you were walking, when the Android known as Connor was out of earshot.

“What? You got a problem with Connor?” You shake your head no. “Well good. Because besides bein’ a freak he’s perfectly fine.”

Yep. Thanks, Hank.

The drive over is silent, besides Hank’s music. You like his taste, but it doesn’t make you feel less tense around Connor. On the other hand, Connor is completely oblivious of said tension. You can see him in the rearview mirror, smiling and looking out the window every now and again.

Once arriving to the scene, Connor gets out first. You click your seatbelt away, about to pull the handle open when you notice Hank hasn’t moved at all.

“You coming?”

“Mm,” Hank fake thinks, flipping through his cd cases. “Nah.”

“Well then... well then are you even hungry?”

“I got food back at the office,” he sighs, not even looking up at you. “Indian from last night. Gonna wreak havoc on the ol’ plumbing.”

“Then what did you bring me here for?” you question finally, developing a tension headache from how often you’ve been knitting your brows together lately.

Hank looks up and over, an almost offended expression on his face. You can see it in his wide old eyes, the angry eyebrows, the slightly opened mouth.

“Because I’m trying to create a warm and loving social circle.”

“You one time told me die because I ate your jar of pickles!” you cry. “Oh my god- Hank, is this about me and Connor? Is that it? You want us to get along?”

“Yeah, and what if I do?” Hank turns to you fully, putting an angry hand on the steering wheel to clutch something.

“It doesn’t matter!” you exclaim. “It literally doesn’t matter at all!”

Hank is quiet. You can see his beady, angry eyes on you, his jaw clenching. “Get the fuck outta my car,” he says at last.

“Gladly,” you mutter. You open the door and slam it closed.

Looking across the wet, rainy street, you can see Connor looking up at the sign of the food truck known as Chicken Feed innocently. You breathe out, feeling the heat from the previous ‘discussion’ beginning to melt away.

Okay, Y/N, you tell yourself. Just go talk to him.

You begin your walk across the street, hearing the light tapping of the rain hitting the asphalt all around you. His back is getting closer and closer. You still have a chance to turn around.

“Hey, Connor,” you say lightly.

“Hello, Doctor L/N,” Connor greets in return warmly.

“Whatcha... thinking about eating, there?” you ask, both of you knowing damn well Androids can’t eat.

“I’m not sure,” he admits. Then he shrugs, and very genuinely says, “I guess I could have some french fries.”

“Alright. I’ll get you some.”

And you do. And you feel so stupid while ordering it. The guy in charge, Gary, looks at you with an ‘are you sure?’ expression on his face, but you only continue with the order, confirming that, yes, you are sure. Then you and Connor sit next to each other in silence, waiting for your food to be ready. You pretend to be very interested in a stain on one of the back menus for about three straight minutes.

“Here you go,” Gary hands you the food. You take the bags and speed off immediately to an umbrella by the place. Even though you’re essentially powerwalking at about 6 miles per hour, it doesn’t feel fast enough in the moment. Connor is right there beside you the whole time.

“Here’s your fries,” you mutter, pushing the bowl towards him.

“Thank you,” he says, formally. Then Connor just stares down into the bowl.

“I appreciate you paying for this meal, Doctor L/N,” Connor decides to say after another moment. When you look up, you can see he’s leaning down ever so slightly so that he’s closer to your height, and making pretty sturdy eye contact. It’s moments like this that you think you’re talking to Connor’s social programming, and probably not him naturally.

“You don’t have to call me Doctor, Connor,” you breathe. “We’re not at work right now.”

“I apologize. How would you like me to address you then?”

“Well... how would you like to address me?”

Connor thinks for a moment. You can tell because his led is switching between yellow and white. Then the beginning of his eyebrows start twitching, along with the corners of his mouth, just like a human would when they have several thoughts on the tip of their tongue but none of them seem just right. It’s cute when he does it.

“You can just call me Y/N,” you rush out in an attempt to save Connor from quite possibly exploding.

He does the twitching once more, then looks up to the top of the umbrella without moving his head. “And, is this outside of the workplace or in it as well?”

“What would you prefer?”

His led goes yellow again. He looks back to you. “That depends whether or not you consider us friends, Doctor L/N.”

This takes you back. You’re silent, stunned, looking at him with slightly widened eyes for a few seconds- maybe a whole minute- before you make the decision to look at your burger and change the subject.

“How’s been adjusting to life as a free man?” you ask, unwrapping the foil from your warm food.

Connor adapts to the subject change after a few seconds, and you know that he’s seen right through you. “It’s strange,” he tells you, deep in thought, but sincere. “But, people seem happy.”

“Are you happy?” you prompt further, biting a big bite into the meat.

Connor thinks again. He thinks a lot. “Yes,” he decides. “I suppose I feel alive,” he admits. It sounds like a confession, and when he turns his head to look over to you, he sees your eyes are already on him. “Are you happy?”

“Am I happy?” you repeat in question. “I... guess I am, overall.”

“Do you enjoy working as a criminal and forensic expert?”

Now it’s your turn to think. You swallow down your bite. “Yeah, I think so. It’s what I’ve wanted for a long time. And now I have it, and I’m comfortable and all. So yes... And you? As a detective?” You bite into the burger again.

“Well, it is what I was created for,” Connor tells you, with an almost charismatic, joking tone. It looks like he’s smiling a little, too. Cute. “I think so. Working with Lieutenant Anderson has gotten better.”

“God, I remember when you first came in,” you roll your eyes. “Hank was all in a mood. One of the grouchiest days for him. But he likes you now.”

Connor watches you pull the burger away from your face. He’s thinking again, but also admiring your features from up close. He doesn’t usually get to do this with you. The proof is in the lack of response to the ‘would you consider us friends?’ question.

“You know,” Connor says, and you can hear the sincerity in his voice for the millionth time. “I really admire how talented you are in your line of work.”

You feel heat in not just your cheeks, but in the rest of your face as well, as if you have a very sudden fever. You decide to keep your face down, trying to naturally make it not look like you’re using your burger as a shield. “Thank you,” you respond.

The heat begins to subside, so you look back up to him. “I admire your...” and you can’t finish the sentence. Not because you can’t think of anything to admire. You know you had a good one in mind to say to him. But when you look up at his boyish face, with the innocent smile and the comforting eyes and the most human details in his skin, you lose your train of thought.

It seems too late and rude to continue by the time you regain it, so you just decide to leave it and eat your burger as quickly as possible.

“Are you done with your fries?” you ask, as Connor looks down at the untouched basket.

“Yes, thank you.”

You don’t even look into the waste of 2 dollars as you speed walk to the trash can and dump it full of everything. Then you hop across the street, Connor right behind you.

Getting back into Hank’s car makes you roll your eyes. It’s not that you’re mad with Connor anymore so much- not that you would describe the feeling as mad in the first place. You’re not even sure you’re ‘mad’ at Hank so much anymore. It’s more like you’re in the area that you previously had a yelling match in, so all that energy is still there. So stupid.

“Hey, you two,” Hank greets, though to you it sounds condescending.

“Hello,” Connor chirps back.

You just shoot Hank a glare.

“How was lunch?” The old man prompts, holding your eye contact knowingly the entire time.

“It was fine,” you tell him.

“Fine?”

“Yeah,” you practically seethe. “Just fine.”

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ *

You stay in your house for another two days. Sleeping has become far more difficult, though you’d never openly admit it. Hank can see it in your face. There’s dark circles under your eyes, far more noticeable than before. Your eyes are dragging themselves down, along with the rest of your body which seems to be in a constant slump.

You’re like a zombie. You’re just carrying yourself around, mindlessly doing your tasks while you try not to nod off at work. Hank hasn’t said anything. He just watches you from afar, not knowing how to apologize because he’s never been able to pull himself into one.

Connor hasn’t said anything either. Hank’s pet has continued his daily routines around the precinct, going where he’s told and sitting on the other side of the older man. You haven’t been observing them much lately. Been a bit too preoccupied with the threat of sleep paralysis to do anything that you find matters in a social sense.

Carla’s case is still open. Her boyfriend is still out there, watching and waiting. Maybe for you. Maybe for some other innocent woman. You keep picturing him towering over you, his shoulders looming, strong jaw twitching with anger. Those masculine brows, defined with the intent to strike at you. Kill you, like your old friend.

Finally, on the fourth day of little to know sleep, you fell asleep at your desk. Completely zonked out, your head slumped against the surface, squishing your cheek in the process. Connor jumped up from his seat, Hank following shortly after. But there was no threat, you were simply resting. Once the two realized this, they calmed a little. Hank opted to send Connor over to you to check you out, crossing his arms as he got ready to observe.

The Android creeps over. Your breathing is steady. So is your heartrate. You’re not in shock or anything at all. You’re not even hurt.

“Y/N?” he prompts lightly, now crouched to be close enough to your ear so he can whisper. His chocolate eyes glance around the precinct, looking for anyone who might have noticed you to try and save you some embarrassment. Then he glances towards the Captain in his office, and he knows he has to hurry himself so you don’t get caught and reprimanded.

“Doctor L/N?”

No response. Connor looks back at Hank, who shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly with little help.

“Doctor L/N, you have to wake up,” he tells you, poking the back of your slumped shoulder.

You were asleep, yes, but apparently not very deeply. You stir from your slumber, raising your head and your mousy appearance to look over at Connor with confused eyes.

“What happened?” you strain, stretching. Connor detects a bit of drool on the corner of your lips.

“You fell asleep at work,” Connor explains slowly.

“I did?” you squint, obviously still out of it.

“You have... drool on your lips.”

You wipe the left corner. “The other side,” Connor gestures lightly to his own lips. “Yes. You got it.”

“Was I out for long?” you look around, adjusting to the so very bright lights of the building.

“No,” Connor answers in that sweet, sweet voice of his. “Maybe a minute, or two.”

“Oh,” you say, your eyes wandering around.

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ *

That night, it rains.

Thunder echoes, with ripples of light from the lightning that bears across the sky like great claw hands.

You watch the view out your window from the middle of your bed for a long time. You’re curled up in a ball on the blankets, not even under them. You’re just there, watching the sky that reflects in your eyes.

A sudden stir in you gives you a change of heart. Something you can’t explain to the fullest extent, something not even I, the one in charge of relaying all that’s happening to you, could explain the exact feeling. It’s like the snapping of a rubber band at 2:15 in the morning.

You can’t stay in this apartment anymore. Not even two locks are enough to protect you. Not your kitchen knives, or the gun given to you from the department for self defense. None of it seems like enough, because all of those things are used after something happens. They don’t prevent it.

You’re in a hurry. The comfiest pajamas you own are soaked in the salty rain water and protected only by the simplest of winter coats you own. It’s nice, though not appropriate for the current weather of course. Your hair gets drenched fast. Every individual drip that falls from the tip of your nose is felt, like you’re more hyperaware than usual.

Now you’ve arrived at a house. A one story, fairly inexpensive home with a garage and recognizable old car out front. As you approach, you can already hear the barking of a dog, see a neighbor turn their lights on briefly to observe you, and feel the shivering of your knuckles as they tap on the door sporadically.

Come on, Hank, you think. Please protect me. Please do this for me.

And, believe me, Hank Anderson would’ve done it had he been awake. But he hadn’t been, and so he didn’t answer the door. Instead, the door swings open, and inside you see an Android.

A tall one, with soft facial features. He has long, dark eyelashes framing dark eyes, surrounded by dark hair. He’s clean and clear cut, very put together. It’s Connor, Hank’s pet that you’ve never been able to get the hang of knowing. And he’s as shocked as you are.

Your drenched hair, shivering body, distant look in your eyes. Though, Connor’s unsure of how he would appear if he had to show up to anyone’s house at 2:34am. Probably unwell. Probably a little bit like you.

“Doctor L/N,” he says, though it seems mostly to himself. His parched lips barely move, though you notice how pink they look in comparison to everything else right now.

“Can I come in?”

Connor is still for a few seconds, obviously still processing your appearance. For what, you don’t know. Must’ve been one of the few things he’s simply unable to calculate. But then he moves himself to the side, and you carry yourself in.

As soon as the door closes behind you, everything is so much warmer. You haven’t been to Hank’s place in months, but it still feels as homey as it did before. It’s cleaner than it was a year ago. There’s more pictures on the walls, more clutter lining the shelves. He’s starting to care about things again. That’s good.

“What are you doing here?” you suddenly ask, turning around to face Connor.

That’s right- what is he doing here? He and Hank couldn’t be living together, could they? Or is... or is it that Hank is pretending Connor is someone else, too?

Connor’s led goes yellow, then blue, then back to yellow. “Lieutenant Anderson has offered me a place to stay until I’m ready to go on myself,” he explains, though the way it looks at you makes it seem like Connor doesn’t want to tell you this. Like he feels the need to explain himself.

“Are you alright, Y/N?”

You wipe your face, smearing your leftover makeup from your eye with the rain water. It burns, but you can’t feel it over the cold. “I uh- um... I’ve been having trouble- trouble sleeping.”

Connor’s lips close, and he looks at you in understanding as you stand there, now feeling your own pressure of having to explain yourself.

“Just like... at my place I can’t- can’t sleep. Not a lot of it.”

Connor knows he shouldn’t, but it’s right there on the very tip of his tongue. It’s so close to just spilling out, until finally it does, all at once. He’s too curious to try and stop it. “Why?”

“I just- I can’t-”

You’re looking everywhere. The floor, the wall, covering your eyes with your arm or your hand, shifting back and forth between feet, making a soggy spot on the floor from your dripping clothes.

“Can’t sleep.”

When you look up to Connor again, you feel better. Still panicked, but like you’re not in trouble. His eyes are so soft. They’re so human, and comforting. He looks at you like he understands, and like he’s not upset. You can see why Hank would pretend he is who he is now. But there’s no one for you to pretend who Connor is. He’s just Connor. And he’s better than you.

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ *

Connor lets you wear one of his sets of identical clothes. It’s a grey t-shirt and blue pajama pants. Your hair is still wet, but Connor doesn’t say anything. He lets you sit on the couch and watch one of Hank’s basketball recordings while he goes to make tea.

He brings it to you and sets it down on the coffee table in front, but like days ago, you can’t bring yourself to touch it. Connor’s made himself a cup too, but doesn’t drink it. It’s deadly silent, the only light coming from the faint glow of the tv, the only sound coming from the biases of those annoying sports commentators.

“Connor?” you whisper hoarsely, turning your body to face him.

He looks over at you, at full attention. Such a soft boy.

“Do you think I’m afraid of anything?”

Connor’s led goes yellow. It flickers in circles until finally he says, “What do you mean, Y/N?”

You look down at your hands. “W-when I try to sleep, I see someone,” you say, not bearing to look at anyone from that gender for a moment. “He never leaves me alone. I feel like I- like I’m seeing this thing everywhere. I can’t avoid it. It won’t leave me alone.”

“What is it?” Connor prods gently, leaning in in that innocent, but curious way he does.

You open your mouth like you’re going to answer, but then your mouth goes dry. Instead, you just shrug your shoulders in a weak attempt of lying.

“Um... why are you still awake?” you ask instead.

“Androids don’t need to sleep,” Connor explains to you. “We just power down to conserve energy, but I don’t need as much as others.”

A light puff of air escapes your nose in time with the flickering of the corners of your lips. “Sounds like you’re bragging,” you tease for a second.

Then it goes quiet.

“I don’t think you’re scared of anything,” you hear Connor’s voice say clearly. “At least, not that I’ve seen. You’re very diligent in your work.”

You take the compliment. It warms your chest for a moment, but the pit inside you is not so easily gotten rid of.

Your nails scrape against each other, breaking while you pick at one of your index fingers. “I think I have like... this fear of men. Fear of something.”

Connor’s led goes yellow.

“Androphobia, also known as the fear of male presences, affects nearly one third of the current female population.”

Connor watches you continue to pick at your nails. The memory of you standing at the door step, shivering like a kitten, drowning in the rain water stays on his mind. “Is this what you think you have, Y/N?” he asks, though this time it’s far more soft.

It sounds like he really cares.

You look up to him, your eyes glossing over from stress and the incoming wave of tears you can feel in the back of your throat.

“I can assure you, Doctor L/N, you are safe here,” Connor continues, holding eye contact as he speaks. “I won’t let any kind of harm get to you.”

The tears in your eyes seem less violent now. Like they’re disappearing already. And that’s how the story ends, in fact. With you, looking up at Connor, seated on Hank’s couch with your hair dripping around you- him promising not to hurt you. It ends on the silence that follows, right between the stare the two of you share.

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ *

This is the first thing I’ve proof read. Also one of the longest things I’ve written somehow? It was fun. I apologize for any mistakes as English is not my first language.

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moiraineswife · 3 years

Text

Autistic Allegories in Renarin’s Arc - Meta

s’up y’all, your favourite local rambler is back at it again. Diving straight in to this one. The motivation for this post is something that might be controversial, and I’m going to try and explain it as clearly as I can and make my intentions clear, but I get this is the internet and things get misinterpreted to fuck.

So, since Renarin was confirmed to be a queer character, I’ve seen a lot of posts and takes on pretty much every platform I frequent that equates all of Renarin’s traits/struggles in canon as being foreshadowing/parallels to his queer identity and experience.

I get this. I’m also queer. I understand the instinct to take, say, Renarin’s corrupted spren bond and his desire to keep his nature as a Radiant hidden/his lack of understanding initially and assume it to be queer foreshadowing/parallel. I big get that. And that’s not a bad interpretation.

The problem is, this is the ONLY interpretation people put forth. They ignore things explicitly said/connections made in canon to Renarin being autistic and say ‘this is it. this is what this means. it’s about him being gay’. When, actually, a good chunk of it is about his experience as an autistic man in an allistic society. Which I think is what Brandon wants to explore/has set up in the text.

So I decided to look at this in more depth from an autistic perspective - some of the moments that most clearly parallel Renarin’s autistic experience and explain how and why this is a thing, and hopefully just highlight this aspect of his character and explain things to folks.

Renarin’s Blade Screaming

Jumping right into it then: Renarin’s bond with Glys is very clearly paralleled with his autism. The text outlines this connection multiple times throughout the series, and explores it in interesting ways.

First up, Renarin first revealing himself as a Truthwatcher makes this pretty clear:

“And the Shardblade,” Dalinar said, stepping over and taking his son by the shoulder. “You hear screams. That’s what happened to you in the arena. You couldn’t fight because of those shouts in your head from summoning the Blade. Why? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I thought it was me,” Renarin whispered. “My mind. But Glys, he says . . .” Renarin blinked. “Truthwatcher.” (WoR)

“Adolin,” he said softly. “I … um … I have to give you back the Shardblade you won for me.”

“Why?” Adolin said.

“It hurts to hold,” Renarin said. “It always has, to be honest. I thought it was just me, being strange. But it’s all of us.”

“Radiants, you mean.”

He nodded. (Oathbringer)

Renarin didn’t explain to his father or the others what was happening to him because he thought it was part of his autistic experience.

Being autistic you get used to experiencing a lot of in-brain things and not realising that other people don’t experience them, too. I have hypersensitivity to sound. I can hear things other people don’t, because their brains naturally filter them out - like electronics whining.

The experience of having a Shardblade scream inside your head is actually a pretty great parallel for sensory overload. It’s something intense, something frightening, and overwhelming, and even painful. But Renarin just endures it without comment because that’s what we’re conditioned to do.

“A group of shellheads tried to seize one of the bridges, Brightlord,” the bridgeman said softly. “Brightlord Renarin insisted on going to help. Sir, we tried hard to dissuade him. Then, when he got near and summoned his Blade, he just kind of . . . stood there. We got him away, sir, but he’s been sitting on that rock ever since.”

[...]

“I just stood there,” Renarin said. “I wasn’t frozen because of my . . . ailment. I’m just a coward.”

When Adolin hears about Renarin freezing up he assumes that he had a fit. Renarin corrects him on this, once he’s verbal again, but says that he was just a coward.

He froze up once he summoned his Blade. Because it would have started screaming in his head and this was overwhelming. When other Radiants have experienced this on-screen the screaming has been so intense they immediately dropped or dismissed the Blade, unable to hold it.

From this, I infer that Renarin believes everyone experiences this when they fight with a Shardblade. He doesn’t realise that it’s strange for him because he’s a Radiant. He thinks everyone experiences it, but they push through and overcome it. He can’t, and instead of thinking something strange is going on, he assumes that it’s a weakness of his and that he’s a coward.

This is a fairly common autistic experience. Why can’t you just get over this? Why is that overwhelming you? Just ignore the sound. Just ignore the lights. Stop being so weak/oversensitive.

That’s what Renarin thinks is happening. That’s why he doesn’t examine his experiences more closely, and realise he’s a Radiant. He thinks it’s part of him being autistic, and that he’s just being overly sensitive, until Glys is able to communicate with him and explain he’s a Truthwatcher.

The Rhyshadium Don’t Fit

“They don’t fit, you know.”

“Don’t fit?”

“Ryshadium have stone hooves,” Renarin said, “stronger than ordinary horses’. Never need to be shod.”

“And that makes them not fit? I’d say that makes them fit better.…” Adolin eyed Renarin. “You mean ordinary horses, don’t you?”

Renarin blushed, then nodded. (Oathbringer)

This, for me, is one of the most direct and obvious parallel between Renarin’s experience as an autistic man, and his experience as a Radiant.

Firstly, he comments on the Rhyshadium ‘not fitting’ with ordinary horses. They’re different. They have different hooves, which means they never need to be shod, like regular horses. In this case, being shod is something all horses do. It’s something natural for them, and the Rhyshadium not having it makes them stand out. This is similar to Renarin’s experience in society and in life.

The Rhyshadium are sometimes called ‘the third shard’ - they’re tied to the Radiants and to Stormlight. Renarin aligning himself with them, and his not fittng with them not fitting, mirrors his being Radiant stopping him from fitting in as he wants to.

A big part of his arc is his desire to fit in somewhere. His integration with Bridge Four is a huge boost to his confidence. He asks to join them to try and find somewhere to belong. The bridgemen are outcasts. They’re people who don’t fit in society, either, for various different reasons. Renarin fits with them, therefore, because he doesn’t fit elsewhere.

When he starts becoming a Radiant, and a different type of Radiant to the others, he starts to worry again. He worries that, yet again, he’s different for reasons he cannot control, and he’s worried the bridgemen will abandon or reject him as has happened frequently in noble society.

“So why are you embarrassed?”

“I’m … not?”

Adolin gave him a flat stare.

Renarin dismissed the Blade. “I simply … Adolin, I was starting to fit in. With Bridge Four, with being a Shardbearer. Now, I’m in the darkness again. Father expects me to be a Radiant, so I can help him unite the world. But how am I supposed to learn?”

Adolin scratched his chin with his good hand. “Huh. I assumed that it just kind of came to you. It hasn’t?”

“Some has. But it … frightens me, Adolin.” He held up his hand, and it started to glow, wisps of Stormlight trailing off it, like smoke from a fire. “What if I hurt someone, or ruin things?”

The conversation continues, and further solidifies the connection between the Rhyshadium not fitting with other horses, and Renarin not fitting in with other people.

He had become a Shardbearer, and was starting to fight and do what an Alethi man is expected to do in society. Go to war with Shards, with glory, etc etc etc. That didn’t quite work out.

For Renarin, whenever he gets closer to assimilating with the standard society and expectations, something happens to stop him. Initially it’s his epilepsy. He has fits, and his chronic illness makes him generally weaker and more frail, meaning that he can’t fight.

Once he’s given Shards to help mitigate those factors, he can’t use the Shards because his Radiant bond makes them scream inside his head. Again stopping him from fighting and becoming a soldier.

He then goes on to tell Adolin that he doesn’t really know how to Radiant. And Adolin says that he thought it would just come to him/he would instinctively know, but he doesn’t.

This is, again, a very classic autism thing. We struggle with doing things that allistic people find instinctive, and don’t need to be actively taught - such as reading and projecting the correct body language.

Adolin, who takes very naturally to all this stuff, just assumes that Renarin’s Radianting would just come to him, and Renarin has to explain that actually no, it hasn’t. This literally cannot get any clearer in forging an obvious link between his autism and his Radiant abilities.

Renarin’s ‘Corrupted’ Bond:

“What’s wrong with me?” Renarin asked. “Why do I see these things? I thought I was doing something right, with Glys, but somehow it’s all wrong.…” (Oathbringer)

[...]

“Does it strike you as cruel of fate, Father? My blood sickness gets healed, so I can finally be a soldier like I always wanted. But that same healing has given me another kind of fit. More dangerous than the other by far.” (Rhythm of War)

[...]

Lopen called out, asking Renarin to “look into the future and find out if I beat Huio at cards tomorrow.” It seemed a little crass to Dalinar, bringing up his son’s strange disorder, but Renarin took it with a chuckle.

[...]

It would be so much easier if he were like other Radiants. (RoW)

[...]

“And a blackness interfering, marring the beauty of the window. Like a sickness infecting both of you, at the edges.”

“Curious,” Dalinar said, looking where Renarin had pointed, though he’d see only empty air. “I wonder if we’ll ever know what that represents.”

“Oh, that one’s easy, Father,” Renarin said. “That’s me.”

“Renarin, I don’t think you should see yourself as—”

“You needn’t try to protect my ego, Father. When Glys and I bonded, we became … something new. We see the future. At first I was confused at my place—but I’ve come to understand. What I see interferes with Odium’s ability. Because I can see possibilities of the future, my knowledge changes what I will do. Therefore, his ability to see my future is obscured. Anyone close to me is difficult for him to read.”

“I find that comforting,” Dalinar said, putting his arm around Renarin’s shoulders. “Whatever you are, son, it’s a blessing. You might be a different kind of Radiant, but you’re Radiant all the same. You shouldn’t feel you need to hide this or your spren.”

Renarin ducked his head, embarrassed. His father knew not to touch him too quickly, too unexpectedly, so it wasn’t the arm around his shoulders. It was just that … well, Dalinar was so accustomed to being able to do whatever he wanted. He had written a storming book.

Renarin held no illusions that he would be similarly accepted. He and his father might be of similar rank, from the same family, but Renarin had never been able to navigate society like Dalinar did. True, his father at times “navigated” society like a chull marching through a crowd, but people got out of the way all the same.

Not for Renarin. The people of both Alethkar and Azir had thousands of years training them to fear and condemn anyone who claimed to be able to see the future. They weren’t going to put that aside easily, and particularly not for Renarin. (RoW)

Sorry for the quote barrage, but there was really no other way to do this, and I think it makes a nice little arc in how Renarin sees himself and his bond to Glys and, by extension, his autism.

In the temple, with Jasnah, he considers it to be something wrong. He’d thought he was finally fitting in, being like everyone else, doing something “right” but it turns out his bond is of Odium, and while he thought he fit with the others, he doesn’t. Again.

The RoW segments are what’s most interesting to me, because what we see here, I think, is Dalinar experiencing Renarin’s ‘disorder’ as he calls it and processing it/coming to terms with it in a way a lot of parents approach their kids’ autism. But this is a bit more approachable/less painful to look at because he’s considering him being a weird glowing power ranger, and not an autistic kid. Easier to examine more honestly.

So first of all Renarin, again, calls a direct link between his bond and his autism. The ‘healing’ that came with his bond gave him another kind of otherness. Another way he can’t be a soldier - which, for Renarin, in Alethi society, means him being like everyone else. I was going to go into this more here but this thing is already long as fuck, but in a nutshell being a soldier is Renarin’s dream because that’s him being “normal” and being like everyone else, which fate always conspires to stop him from being.

In Alethi society the peak of masculinity and of fitting in to the social order, which revolves around war and glory and battle courage blah blah blah - is being a soldier and fighting. Which Renarin has never been able to do. Which his father has always wanted him to do - wihich Renarin knows.

A lot of allistic people, especially allistic parents, think their autistic kids won’t pick up on their blatant ‘oh my god I wish my kid was normal’ vibes. They do. BELIEVE ME they do. This is a good little nod to that. Dalinar has never outright looked at Renarin and said ‘I want you to be a soldier to be worthy of my love and respect’ but it’s what Renarin grew up knowing and seeing from him.

The evolution of that through exploring Dalinar’s attitude to Renarin being bonded with an Odium-aligned spren is...Utterly fascinating, to say the least.

Here, for example, Dalinar sees it as a “strange disorder”. When Renarin calls a spade a spade and just goes ‘yeah no that weird thing right there that makes you comfortable? That’s me, buddy, get used to it’. Which is just. Absolutely effervescent. There’s a big instinct allistic people have to dance around autistic people. So many innuendos. So many fluffy phrase that I hate. “On the spectrum.” “On the autism spectrum”. “Differently abled” “Sees the world differently.” Just call me autistic and let me move on with life I do not have time to deal with your internalised issues.

He kind of comes around on it and gives him the whole “you might be a different Radiant but you’re still a Radiant to me, son”. Replace the word Radiant here with person and you’ll have a conversation I’ve experienced so many times. “Just because you’re a weird person doesn’t mean you’re not still a person!” Why thank you for pointing that out. I hadn’t noticed....Thank you for validating my humanity to my face?? As though I needed you to do that?

Contrast this with Renarin’s cheerful acceptance (ABSOLUTELY STUNNING DEVELOPMENT, HELL YES) - ‘yeah no that weird thing right there is me’. I cheered, dear reader, I CHEERED. It’s a little thing but it’s also a very very big thing.

So is Lopen making light of things - in a way that laughs with Renarin and not at him - wanting him to predict the outcome of his card game. Renarin laughs at this, and is obviously comfortable with the jokes and the camaraderie. Dalinar winces at this and thinks that it shouldn’t be made fun of this way, that it’s crass or wrong, Renarin has a disorder, it makes him weird and delicate, people shouldn’t joke around him with that, it’s not right. But Renarin is comfortable with it, and the Bridgemen are comfortable with him, which Dalinar obviously isn’t - though I get that he’s trying to go there.

Then, again, we draw a very direct parallel between Renarin’s Radiant experience othering him socially and autism othering a person socially. Absolutely exquisitely done mister sando, very nice indeed.

Renarin notes that there are ways to go through society. It’s nice to be like Dalinar and have the clout to buck the expectations, and not do what you’re supposed to, and still get away with it. Isn’t that nice? Bitch wrote and published a book and he’s still seen as masculine and worthy of respect and being yielded too.

Remember that Renarin can read and write as well - he learned so he could interpret his visions. But he hasn’t shared that with people. Because he knows that it won’t be accepted the way Dalinar was.

Sanderson sets up this idea rather nicely in Oathbringer, actually, with the scribes meeting.

Renarin glanced at his father. Dalinar responded with a raised fist.

He came so Renarin wouldn’t feel awkward, Shallan realized. It can’t be improper or feminine for the prince to be here if the storming Blackthorn decides to attend.

This part has always made my heart happy. Because it’s not just about Dalinar validating Renarin’s societally ‘feminine’ tendencies - which he gets subtly bullied/mocked for during that meeting by one of the other women in attendance. It’s about all of his differences, it’s about Dalinar validating his autistic experience as well, and helping to fit him in to a society that continually rejects and ousts him.

This idea evolves through RoW, however, with Renarin understanding that Dalinar can do things that he won’t be allowed to get away with. Dalinar isn’t so much breaking down barriers with Oathbringer as he is stomping through them because he has enough social privilege to do so, for the most part, unscathed.

Renarin keeps his reading a secret because, even after what Dalinar has done, it’s not going to change things for most men, and certainly not him.

Renarin has learned, throughout his life, that him being different is not going to break down any barriers. People are not going to change their world, or their worldview, for him and his differences. He knows that he has to adapt, and he knows that he won’t be afforded the same luxuries as others.

He’s more comfortable with this now. He’s learning to be himself, and learning that the world won’t fit itself to him, he just has to do what he’s going to do anyway, and find the places where he fits, rather than trying to change the ones where he doesn’t. It’s actually a really beautiful little arc, and I’m strongly tempted to look at it in more depth at some point. Renarin and Dalinar’s dynamic is actually incredibly deep, layerd, and complex, and it’s something I’ve been meaning to look at for a while. HOWEVER. NOW IS NOT THE TIME FOR THAT.

TL;DR: Renarin’s Radiant experience is a direct allegory and parallel to his autistic experience. This is explored and made blatant by canon repeatedly, throughout the series, and Renarin’s experience as a Radiant is clearly a vessel by which Sanderson intends to explore his autism. Stop erasing and ignoring this when you talk about Renarin and analyse his arc. His autism is as intrinsic to this as it is to identity. It’s part of him. Stop erasing it.

I’m not saying you can’t find parallels or comfort in Renarin’s arc as a queer person. I’m just saying you cannot look at it in isolation. As though the text is ONLY making a parallel between his queer identity and his bond. Because it’s very fucking blatantly not. His autism is obviously and canonically tied to his Radiant bond and this is something that MUST be noted whenever you talk about this aspect of Renarin’s character.

Note: if anyone has any questions or comments on this, I am happy to engage and to clarify what I meant/add further detail and supporting evidence for various different aspects. There’s only so much I can cover in one post! For my sanity as well as yours...But there’s absolutely more, and I’m happy to look at that as well.

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