#HIS DAMN ORIGIN STORY!!

[epickiya722]

Yeah, no, I definitely needed to ugly cry over damn ALL MIGHT FOR THE PAST HOW MANY PAST CHAPTERS!!!

[fulcrums501st]

the more I think about how s2 fumbled the Piltover/Zaun conflict so bad, the more I become a Silco defender

[running-with-kn1ves]

An Elven Winter

CW: None! Arranged marriage, very cozy very comfy, winter nights, grossly affectionate moments

Synopsis: You’re late for dinner with your brawny elf husband, again. Is he going to scold you this time, and live up to his name as a heartless elf?

A/N: Your favorite boy Cirdan is back! Here's the OG piece I wrote with him if anybody wants some more comfort and cuteness.

Snowflakes whipped from the left across your face, illuminated by dampened yellow street lanterns with an icy blue tinge to their miniscule edges. The cold stuck to your eyelashes, to the tip of your nose, to the bottoms of your trudging boots. 

When was the last time it snowed this hard? Not in years, certainly. Not since you began to share your home with another warm body, waiting to welcome you home away from the chills seeping into the openings of your sleeves. You could see your home only two doors down now, the front bathed by hanging porch lights, a trellis covered with dead vines propped against the dark, unlit corner of the cabin. Everyday he’d water that thing, and everyday it’d continue to shrivel under the coldening wind.

Your face creases with concern for what your spouse's reaction may be once you make it home. He might fawn over every trickle of water that was once snow on your shoulders, fraught by the coldness of your fingertips in his palms. It wasn’t his worry that was exhausting, it was the fear of making him feel anything other than glowing warmth, of adoration for you.

Your feet slid over one another racing to the front doors in a jog. Another wave of guilt washed over you for the tenth time tonight for being, what was it now-- an hour late to dinner? How your lovely, saint of a husband worked endlessly to make your homestead full of comfort and homeliness-- and yet you couldn’t make it in time for a meal he had spent endlessly curating. You would beat yourself over the head if you had a moment to spare.

But there was nothing you could do to turn back the time, to slide any quicker on the glassy, frozen ground. Tripping to race up to the door, you fumbled over stone steps in impatience.

The delicately carved door handle was just as cold as the tip of your nose was, hardly putting up a fight as you pulled it toward you. The door opened with a breeze of thick comfort blowing against exposed skin unveiled on your body. Warmth and the smell of a working oven flooded to the points of your cheeks, the door’s creaky nature betraying you as it let the other resident of the house know of your return home. 

This would be the part where you shout “Honey, I’m home!”

But you’re given no time, no time at all. A crackling fire fills your ears, the sudden appearance of a dastardly large silhouette clouding your vision of the kitchen table, plates upon plates decorating a tablecloth you knew so well.

“It’s nine.” His voice relented, the emotion detected and yet hard to describe as you look up to read his face. 

His cheeks are tinted a slight red, as if he had been outside in the cold, waiting for you. 

“It is; I’m sorry, Cirdan. I really thought I'd get here sooner, we were trying to wait out the snow. And, well.. That didn’t really do much.”

His eyes were full of thought, expression in their hardened lids and watery irises. Being late for things seemed to be your specialty. It broke your heart into desperate pieces when you saw the look on his face-- hardly concerned with the cold food, but locked on to you to see what had gone wrong, if you were hurt, what he could do to fix it all. 

“Don’t apologize. I’m just.. So glad you’re home.” He genuinely sounded relieved, a rough stutter you hadn’t heard in a long time, if not ever before. 

His body, so untraditional to what elves were expected to be, came forward to hold you just as gracefully as any normal, lean and tall version of the creature would. But he was all brawn-- a hard and heated rock that snug itself tight against you. A thick hand made its way into your hair to press the top of your head to his pointed nose. 

His taut inhale was shaky, white strands of hair much longer than your own crowding your view. 

“I was nearly about to go out there and find you myself. It’s no place for you to be, out there in the snow. Cold and alone.”

It sounded as if he had scared himself with anxiety-ridden thoughts about where you were in your tardiness. 

“I know.” You muffled against his chest, the wool of his sweater smelling like sweet potatoes and rosemary. 

If it were anyone else you’d be embarrassed to press your head deeper, to lean into the touch so clearly full of desire. But you knew no other way to make up for all that you had done. Your briefcase bag fell to the floor, crumpled and forgotten. 

The affection was so tender you nearly forgot about the sensation of frostbite clawing at your fingernails and the aching in your stomach. It resounded out in the room with an acidic gurgle, forcing your body to go rigid with a mix of exhaustion and embarrassment. 

You could feel the soundless laugh Cirdan let out through the shake in his body-- his warm, scarred arms your safe space. Even the apron two sizes too small on him smelled of sweets. It  hugged him enough for you to feel the ridges underneath his sweater. 

“Are you hungry?” He asked, gently releasing you from his stroking bear hug. 

“You have to ask?” You mumbled, still somewhat embarrassed by your show of weakness. You were supposed to be the strong one, carrying out the toughness of reality and endless meetings between the human and elven realm, while your unconventional elf husband finally had a chance in his brutality to rest, to be easy and let his heart and scars heal. But you were only human. 

“I kept it warm for you, wasn’t sure when you’d be back.”

 Your chest ached at those words.

You were tempted to let out another ‘you don’t have to do that’ or ‘you should’ve just left it in the fridge’, but it would only serve to dishearten him even more. 

“Thank you,” Was all you could half-heartedly murmur, looking up to stare at him. 

His hair fell sloppy along his face, snowy locks hiding his grey, blinded eye. He had started letting it show in privacy, when scrubbing the stove oven or reading in his colossal wine-red chair, black specs you called his ‘old man glasses’ falling off his nose. You pushed the heavy strands behind his pointed ear, letting your hand slide down the curve of his jaw. 

Cirdan merely smiled longingly, crinkling at his eyes and gazing at you as if you were all the stars in the sky held in front of him. He leaned just slightly into your touch, its coldness offering a stark contrast to his warm, honey skin. 

“Go, sit by the fire. I’ll bring your dinner.”

You were again ready to protest, but an intensely soft fleece blanket was draped over your head, covering from your forehead to your calves. It was originally made for your husband, twice any human’s size and still long enough to cover his shoulders. Cirdan had turned to the loveseat beside him to grab it, leaving you to buckle under the weight of swarms of fabric as he moved toward the kitchen. Blindly, you made your way to the orange glow in the middle of the room, bright flames caressing freshly chopped oak.

The corners of your home closest to the outside world had a chilled air of ice, but within the middle was where the heat resided, beckoning you to the fireplace onto a small elk hide rug. 

Cirdan’s footsteps upon the soft kitchen floor came toward you, steam rising from the plate held in his hands. He seemed so relaxed, shoulders drooped and yet posture enviously perfect, an effect of having an elven spine and ruthless upbringing. His loose sweater was soft on his carved shoulders, reminding you of your shared cozy bed-- of his body radiating glowy warmth against you, rustling sheets tangled as you push deeper against the crook of his neck.

But your stomach was too insatiable for anything other than food right now, even warmth. The herby, peppery scent brought drool to your mouth, looking at the elf with wide eyes in hungry desperation. 

“It’s hot, let it cool off for a second.” Cirdan blows on the mouth-watering food as he hands the plate to you with a potholder on its lip, protecting you from the heat. He is quick to grab a pillow and place it in your lap, gently letting the plate rest.  “I kind of went overboard; something in me felt like cooking tonight... We can give the leftovers to the neighbors.”

“No!” You shout territorily, covering your plate as if he were ready to steal it from you. “It's mine to eat, I mean.” 

You don’t leave room for the conversation to continue, shoveling a forkful of well-seasoned vegetables in your mouth. The moment a green bean touches your tongue you realize your mistake. 

“Haw, hawt!” 

Your open mouth does a dance as you try to fan the heat, so eager to eat that you forgot to heed his warning. 

“I told you!” Cirdan exclaims, a laugh escaping him as he reaches for a glass of water on the table behind him. “I guess my intuition knew you’d try something like that.”

You take the glass with unheeded swiftness, letting lukewarm water settle in your fiery mouth. 

A hesitant swallow leaves your tongue numb and your hunger yet to be filled.

You reach for another bite, this time for a heap of buttery mash potatoes, soft and fluffy like the piles of snow outside yet starkly contrasted in their steamy heat. 

You know better now, blowing on the fork before taking a hesitant, small bite. 

Cirdan merely gives you a watchful, entertained grin. He doesn’t have the pompous smirk of most elves you’ve met with, but instead a full, close-lipped smile that reaches to his sharp eyes, his uncharacteristically full cheeks rising, his face slim and etched like the rest of his kind yet with more ruggedness and expression in it, remnants of a jagged past etched into his skin. 

“I’th really good.” You cover your full mouth, singing his praises with potato and sweet, savory bread in between. 

“I’m glad you like it,” The comment he passes hardly utters any attention to what you say, instead busy watching you consume like a ravenous animal. Cirdan brushes back hair that falls close to your plate, stroking just gently a thumb over your cheek. 

You swallow a few more bites before you feel the ache in your stomach subside. The intense way the elf keeps looking at you is not unforeign, but you still have yet to be comfortable with it. 

“Thank you for the food,” You wipe your mouth with your sleeve, hoping you weren’t too many levels of disheveled. “but, I have another favor to ask.”

“Hm?”

You witness in his eyes the willingness, eagerness to see what you desire. 

“Let me brush your hair?” 

Cirdan’s lips part in an ‘o’, before returning to the usual gentle hardness of his face.

“That’s all? I thought you were ready for dessert.” 

The elf lets out a stifled laugh, deep and bouncing off the small cabin walls in pure delight.

You shoot a self-conscious gaze at him, lips half upturned in a hidden smile; you’re not sure whether to laugh or bashfully tell him nevermind.

“You know you don’t have to ask. I was waiting until you were done to clean myself up--” He turns to the side, opening a stool compartment stuffed with a myriad of little things from nail polish to old lighters. His gentle hands searched for a delicate hairbrush, elven in the intricacy of its design and dwarven in its robusticity. The curving vines against the brushes ivory skin along with its weighty hold made it a piece of craftsmanship worthy of generational pass-down. 

 He takes your plate fit for kings off of your lap, moving it to the floor closest to the fireplace. In this house, everytime you attempt to do something, it seems to be done at-hand immediately before you can think to move. 

Cirdan wordlessly hands you the brush, tender fire under his palm gliding over the icicles you called fingers.

You attempt to scoot behind him, blanket nearly falling from your shoulders to do so, but the elf catches you. 

“I’m not letting you freeze to death on my behalf first,” He grunts, grabbing your hands in a chokehold. “You're practically frozen my love.” 

The tendrils of his fingers wrapping over your own were akin to hot coils, oddly welcoming and conflicting to your body void of warm blood. 

“Your behalf? I’m the one who suggested the idea!” You shake your head in mild disbelief. “Besides, being near the fire is warming me up. I’ll be unfrozen soon.”

Your airy voice is sarcastic and not nearly as teeth-chattering as it once had been-- yet still, Cirdan huffed over your fingertips, letting out heavy breaths to warm the parts of you that were yet to be anything but icy. 

“You aren’t going to win this fight.” He looked up at you, a serious furrow of his brows, “I won’t lose you to such simplicities of frostbite, you’re too precious.”

Oof. Right in the heart. Everytime you see his resting brooding face like that your chest lurches in worry--- but then he’ll say something so sweet in sincerity that you want to collapse into a puddle.

You open and close your mouth like a gaping fish, unsure what to say to beat, or even match that. 

The elf deeply exhales once more against your trembling fingers, letting silence float between you with the sound of crackling flames flickering in between. 

With a final heavy breath against your knuckles, he straightens your fingers out, placing them over his heated cheeks. Even with the ridges of bone and scar on his face, he was squishy and pliant like a human. Your thumb brushed against the healed tissue leading from the bridge of his nose to his blinding eye, relishing in the slow blinks he gave. He looked… tired, and yet full of comforting bliss. You break the silence with an anxious swallow.

“I can't believe this.. you should be scolding me, making me eat cold leftovers in a dark room for being late, once again. Instead you're welcoming with open arms and a full stomach? I just don't get you; I don't know if I ever will.” 

You smile a little sadly, grateful and mystified.

“Maybe you won't understand it,” Cirdan moves his lips to your palm, nudging it with a kiss. “but it's what I'd want.”

You did understand that. All those nights he laid in the cold snow after throwing himself against battalions as a living shield, coming home to an even colder room, eating alone and wondering if anyone was thinking of him. If he meant anything more than a body to be used. He wouldn't let you feel that way, if he could help it.

You nuzzled so hard against his face it made you both scrunch up your noses. 

“Oh I just-- wish I could stick you in my pocket and never let you go-- never let you feel anything but warmth and softness and love again.”

Cirdan grinned, his expression practically basking in the adoration. 

“You don’t know how good it feels to hear you say that.” 

You kiss him rough, not caring if the temperature difference sparks you both, making your noses tingle with electricity and your lips buzz. With gentle encouragement your hands holding his face might lead elsewhere, but tonight you wanted to show him the chaste devotion, the love he deserved in any way you knew how. Cirdan was fervent with his kiss, though he still seemed concerned with your warmth as his hands searched blindly for the blanket slipping from your back. 

You roll your eyes, letting your lips fall away with a warm breath. You're quick to get back to what you want, the task at hand.

“We're getting off track-- will you let me brush your hair now? I promise I won't freeze you with my icicle fingers.”

You drum your fingers against the sides of his cheeks, watching as he reaches for the forgotten brush on the rug, slightly dazed. You leave the tepidness of his face to snatch it with playful ease, ushering him to turn around.

“All right, all right, my love,” He concedes with a sigh. “Whatever you desire.” 

You grasp the edges of his messy hair as he faces away from you, pulling out the slipping black elastic band to let the rest of it fall; It’s gently knotted at the tips, but the rest of it still holds a sleek shine created from fine, thick strands and patient washing. 

“It’s my turn to take care of you..” You mumble, holding a fistful of silvery white strands with a calm stroke of the brush. The rhythm lulls you into a peacefulness, listening to the flickers of fire in front of you, the gentle snowfall from outside your little world of warmth and coziness. The blanket falls to your elbows-- you don’t go to fix it, so enraptured with the task at hand. 

Cirdan begins to hum just the slightest, his eyes shut in a stoney, calm expression that you can see if you tip just slightly sideways. It was a solemnly elven tune, and yet it slowed your heart so simply that you felt a wash of nostalgia and ease run through you. 

You would trade anything to keep this December night going, to have the man in front of you, held in your arms forever. Cirdan’s warmth was inseparable from your own, your bodies impossibly close for comfort. 

[nadiajustbe]

I think the whole issue I have with Howl's character in HMC movie can be outlined in one brief sentence:

"You can't write Howl Pendragon without writing Howell Jenkins"

[afsosville]

Ever After High, but make it a PIDW AU.

Imagine how fucked up it would be if Shen Jiu is up there doing the book signing ceremony that seals his destiny of becoming the next 'Shen Qingqiu', and the mirrors display him getting thrown away by his martial siblings at the trial, and his limbs being torn off and other despicable tortures, and being brought down so low that your humanity is stripped away from you, all for an audience to see. And they cheer. The crowd is ecstatic, perhaps even more so than when his father, Shen Qingqiu, was put on trial.

[cerenemuxse]

my 2x5 ramble because of this post

"Even though you weren't the engine on the poster, you are still really useful." - Edward didn't have to tell him this, YET HE FUCKING DID. Other engines wouldn't DARE say anything because all they think is "This'll only rub his ego," but Edward doesn't. He sees the layers of complexity that make up James and addresses it so subtly. He KNOWS that somewhere within that vain red engine, James feels guilty for what happened and he's quick to express that.

Others would brush it off or take his apology and move on, but Edward doesn't. He "gives" James a space where the latter can also be satisfied with how he was able to make up for his mistakes.

And do you know where ELSE Edward says something of this degree, of this reassurance, to James?

"All in Vain"

"You do look splendid tonight, James!" - He didn't HAVE to tell him this. No one asked him to. James didn't even prompt something to say this. No one prompted Edward to say it.

Had Edward not said something, James wouldn't be in this spot. I've talked about this before but because its so important to these two, no matter the type of relationship they have, platonic or romantic. (To me, this is very much platonic but it provides a starting point for these two.)

Both of these instances come off as "See? Everything turned out okay! You're still a really useful engine!" (JtSB) and "Oh, everything turned out okay! This is great! I'm happy for you" (AiV) respectively. The tones are different but the intentions are the same. These compliments are hidden reassurances, and James understands them. He appreciates them.

I say that the tones are different because of previous context within both episodes, coming down to how James is able to make up for his mistakes.

"James the Second Best" - James was present and the one to ask for a chance to make up for his mistake.

"All in Vain" - James was not present when Edward told the Mayor and Sir Topham Hatt about James' predicament. He doesn't know how the conversation went down. He doesn't know what exactly was said. So when Sir Topham Hatt says, "But! Edward told me all about what happened," James looks reasonable frightened. And when James leaves to go to the works? Edward just... stares at James, as if he's rethinking whether or not telling Sir Topham Hatt about James' situation was such a good idea.

(His expression is hard to tell because of the shit quality. That's just what I'm able to make out.)

English translation is in the parenthesis. It's a direct translation.

CLIP 01

JAMES: Lo siento, senor... (I'm sorry, sir...)

SIR TOPHAM HATT: Pero- Edward me dijo todo lo que paso. (But- Edward told me all about what happened.)

CLIP 02

JAMES: Si, senor. Lo siento, senor. (Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.)

And here's the kicker: They're both unaware of what they're feeling respectively. James doesn't know that Edward meant well. It FEELS out of place but when you think about how often James was in a situation where he gets in trouble because others told on him, it makes sense.

In that SAME season, the same thing happens in Pouty James, where Sir Topham Hatt finds out about James' attitude towards others BECAUSE the other engines told him.

(And what if Edward was one of those engines? A bit of a stretch considering Edward was assigned James' passenger work, but its plausible. And again, James doesn't know who exactly told on him like we do, but unlike us, he has an idea of who it was, thinking they all had the same intention: getting him in trouble and reprimanded. Keep in mind, Edward's said nothing to James when the latter returned to the sheds, absolutely pissed off, when James was being made fun of, and the following morning, so its possible that this gave him the idea that Edward could possible be the same way as the others.)

Meanwhile, Edward left in a spot where he starts to wonder if telling Sir Topham Hatt about James' situation was such a good idea. He has good intentions, but now he wonders if James knows that. Sir Topham Hatt clearly does. The other engines might or might not. But what about James? What about him? When the other engines start laughing as James leaves and knowing how James takes in that sort of reaction, the way the problem was handled was now something Edward was beginning to regret.

Edward had good intentions. He didn't mean for James to get into trouble or be laughed at. Yes, the situation was silly but to James, it meant a lot. Being given the chance to transport an important passenger has always been something James enjoys, more than most other engines.

So for it to all go down hill over a small inconvenience is heartbreaking. Even after James tries to make up for the mistake, he has to wait to see if his "make up" did something. But when he gets his answer, its too late. Could he have let his thoughts consume him during the long hours of waiting for Sir Topham Hatt's reaction to the situation?

James is a character who will do what he can to make up for his mistakes, and that's something Edward wants James to know that is valued of him. Edward knows that the best he can do is to provide a space for James to be able to do so, or in this instance, agree to help out.

Final Note: Oddly enough, most of their (on-screen) interactions are in James-centric episodes/stories.

(RWS) James and the Top Hat

(RWS + TVS) Troublesome Trucks

(RWS + TVS) Trouble in the Shed

(TVS) James Goes Too Far

(TVS) Keeping Up with James (also Edward-centric)

(TVS) James the Second Best

(TVS) James Works It Out

(TVS) Tickled Pink (implied tho. this is what made me think about their interactions in the first place)

(TVS) James in the Dark

(TVS) All in Vain

(TVS) James and the Trouble with Trees

(TVS) Pouty James

(TVS Annual: 1985 + 1994) James' Rest Cure

Stories that aren't James-centric but are Edward-centric.

(RWS + TVS) Old Iron

(RWS + TVS) Edward's Exploit

(RWS + TVS) Edward and the Cabbages

(TVS) Edward the Great

(TVS) A Shed for Edward

There's episode I haven't added since its like- 1 second of interaction or not Edward or James centric. but here's a list anyways (i also need it for reference hsagjk)

(TVS) Edward the Really Useful Engine

(TVS) The Beast of Sodor

(TVS) Hero of the Rails

(TVS) Misty Island Rescue

(TVS) Journey Beyond Sodor

Thomas Noisy Book: Edward's Fire

there's definitely more that i haven't mentioned but these were just the main ones i could find and remember

(from here on out, this is my HC so feel free to just disregard)

this snippet is more HC heavy. for context: Edward wasn't exactly the best engine at the time of James' arrival. stuff happened that led to mistrust and tension between the two until 1931, when my version of "Pouty James" takes place, where Edward starts to understand James, and vice versa. Emily's also involved but she's not important rn.

The second time James took Edward to the works was after the events of "James the Second Best," which they talk about aomething thats bothered James. "Why exactly are we friends?" and "But we're so different." are what's been bothering James since Old Iron. James: "Does it not hurt?" Edward: "…Pardon?" James: "Does it not hurt when… What I've done?" Edward: "To think about… yes…, it does. I'd ask you the same thing." James: "You haven't hurt me-" Edward: "You know well I have, dear."

just something about this episode makes me think that it got James rethinking their relationship. Like, are they really friends? Considering how James is, I think he's the type where he needs the status of a relationship to be clarified but that's just me- :p

the following is my timeline

from 1925 to 1930, it was a rocky start.

1930 had a ton of stuff going on in general but basically:

James: "you're picking favorites!" Edward, in denial and a bad mental space because the last of his baby sisters was scrapped: "No im not!" (they're talking about Thomas. Edward is picking favorites but isn't picking up on it. He is struggling. James wishes Edward would've treated and cared for him the same way he does to Thomas.)

1931 is the first piston rod breaking incident where james is present

(1931) they began to understand each other (Pouty James rewrite) but aren't necessarily friends

(1952) Old Iron is what sets off the beginning of their friendship (or at least fixing it)

Keeping Up with James follows right after.

(1953) James the Second Best

(1962) Cold Iron is when James finds out Edward lied about Glynn. Also when edward reveals some of his pre-NWR history to him and Emily.

(1963) "He Squawks!" James discovers that Edward does in fact squawk. ("Haha, seagull," James.)

Edward fell first. All in Vain 1968 but realizes in "Like Snowflakes in December"

because of my HC, these two are in a limbo of sorts from "Pouty James" to "Old Iron." "Keeping Up with James" is an example of what their dynamic was after "Old Iron"

They start getting along but they haven't exactly defined that they're friends. it's a weird spot that neither addressed but they were both aware of it. "Old Iron" was just the spark that was needed to get the ball rolling for these two. "James the Second Best" gave them the chance to address it.

that's my two cents on these two surrounding "James the Second Best," but it turned into a convo about "All in Vain." Had i not thought about this episode, I don't think I would've noticed the similarities in my first point about the hidden reassurance thing.

[undefeatablesin]

Not Yharnam posting, but I need to tell everyone that Phantom in the Rain was fantastic and I have had my brain chemistry permanently rewired since watching it.

[cementcornfield]

Ja’Marr on Joe Burrow's hit in the 2018 Fiesta Bowl

[dxkjf]

i love samson

[orcelito]

I've been working on Finally finishing Naruto Shippuden (after being a Naruto fan for nearly 15 years), & I just finished episode 420. And I have some THOUGHTS about the "Naruto is the reincarnation of Ashura" thing. This started as just me rambling for my normal liveblog posting, but I had a LOT of thoughts about this actually, so I am presenting them to u all Now.

So. Naruto meeting the Sage of Six Paths! Cool!!! I'm finally learning about Naruto being the reincarnation of Ashura, which... honestly is not a choice that I like very much. Narratively speaking, I mean. The Point of Naruto's journey was that he was the underdog, the bottom of his class, the orphan that everyone hated and made fun of. Through hard work and perseverance, he managed to drag himself from being a complete social outcast to someone generally really loved and respected. That's compelling!!! It means a lot!!!

But then the show is like. "Oh...actually, he's the son of the fourth hokage. And Also, he's the reincarnation of the son of the literal creator of ninshuu aka the precursor of modern ninjutsu." I mind him being Minato's son less as a narrative choice (for reasons I will get into shortly), but making him Ashura's reincarnation?? I've got Several things that bug me about that.

So First, for him being Minato's son. It's not like that's ever Actually given him any sort of status (since most people don't know), & Minato was also kind of just a random guy?? Just incredibly skilled, enough so to become the 4th hokage. And then there's also Kushina, descended from a very successful and very Feared clan that ended up almost entirely killed bc of that fear. Naruto being an Uzumaki means great power, huge chakra reserves (not even including the extra chakra he gets from Kurama), & some innate skills (that Naruto mostly didn't inherit, but one can play pretend sometimes). BUT ALSO, they were almost entirely killed off. He's a survivor of his clan's genocide that happened well before he was even born, and he doesn't even REALIZE it yet. So even though being Minato's son means he's the son of a very influential person, it doesn't give him the same leverage as being a Senju or Uchiha would. And the clan he Does belong to bc of Kushina does not give him status either, bc they're almost all fuckin Dead. And we know that Minato is a Namikaze, but as for what that actually *means*.... it's basically nonexistent. There is no mention of a Namikaze clan. Minato was just a prodigy in his own right.

SO.... All that is to say that while appending Naruto's orphan story with a "well, Actually, his parents were very powerful and well respected" does discount it a little bit, it's still not Especially unique in terms of what other people in their world may experience (there are other descendants of current and/or former kage + Many other powerful clans running around) OR in the benefits that it gives him (essentially nothing, outside of his physical strength and the inheritance of Kurama himself)(which inheriting Kurama did grant him access to IMMENSE power, but it also was the source of So Much of his suffering growing up, so I think it balances out).

The "reincarnation of Ashura, son of the Sage of Six Paths" thing tho... that one really kinda does. At that point, Naruto is no longer just the orphaned son of two respected shinobi & the current jinchuuriki of the Kyuubi (something special, but not entirely original, given that there are Other jinchuuriki who are descendants of powerful shinobi). He is now something that NO ONE ELSE ALIVE can be. It is saying that He, above Everyone Else, is special in this way. Outside of Sasuke lol, but I'll touch on that in a moment.

It just feels kinda cheap. It's cool I guess, but at this point it feels like we've completely lost the Plucky Orphan who works hard to overcome his circumstances plot. It's saying that he was Always one of a kind, he was Always destined to become Someone Special (or that he was, in fact, special the whole time). It removes the importance of his hard work in the equation. It makes it so that this is no longer something he earned for himself, but rather something that was a Given, since he is, of course, Ashura's reincarnation.

Cheap. It's cheap. And I don't like it.

Then we get into Sasuke being the reincarnation of Indra. Which I haven't gotten to that yet in the show, but I know from seeing it around. I do enjoy the sun and moon aesthetic between Naruto and Sasuke (so SO much, in fact), but. Making Sasuke the reincarnation of the Other son of the Sage of Six Paths is... frustrating? In several ways. There is of course the fact that Naruto and Sasuke have such extremely gay vibes (and Always Have), so making them the reincarnations of brothers so late in the story feels like an insult to anyone who reads their relationship in that way. Which to be fair, we do see Naruto mention at a few points that he thinks of Sasuke like a brother, but it's only a few points + feels like a kind of narrative cop-out. Sasuke himself said he doesn't think of Naruto in that way (though that could also be his self-denial speaking & it could change. Haven't gotten that far yet.), & I think there are much better choices for Naruto's "brother" figure (primarily Iruka, but people like Killer Bee and any of the other konoha 12 would be fitting too). Personally, it feels like Naruto was trying to put a name to his very strong feelings for Sasuke, & since he doesn't realize being gay is an option (since Kishimoto is clearly homophobic & made this ninja society to reflect that), he settled on Brother. But Sasuke is like "what the fuck? No, my only brother is Itachi." Instead, Sasuke has called Naruto his best friend. Which also doesn't fully encompass their relationship, but it's still closer than Brother.

So here we are, Kishimoto saying around 555 episodes into the plot (only 80 more to go) that they're actually the reincarnations of brothers. And not just any brothers. THE sons of the Sage of Six Paths. Incredibly influential, incredibly powerful, two sides of the same coin and very historically significant figures. Sasuke always had the "descended from an elite, yet disgraced clan" thing going for him, so in my opinion it doesn't hold the same kind of insult to his story that it does for Naruto. But it still feels like an insult to THEIR story.

Naruto and Sasuke were just two orphan boys. Their moms were best friends, but they didn't know that. They died when they were too young. But Naruto and Sasuke still gravitated towards one another. Understood each other like no one else. And got on each other's nerves like no one else. But that irritation stemmed from their genuine admiration of each other. They wanted to be able to beat each other. They became Rivals. And it was on their own terms. No one else pushed them together. Outside of them ending up on the same team, their entire relationship was fueled by their recognition of one another, Jealousy of one another, and the simple enjoyment of being around one another. They were the ones to decide the importance of their relationship. Sasuke recognizing Naruto as his closest friend & thus thinking he was the one he had to cut off to achieve power, and Naruto recognizing Sasuke as his first peer that acknowledged him, a precious bond he finally made, and thus someone he had to cling to FIERCELY. That was all them.

But here we are. They're a reincarnated set. The sun and the moon, but Officially. One could say soulmates in a way, in a non-romantic kind of context (considering the first iteration was a pair of brothers). While this is cool from a story standpoint, it really takes some significance away from their relationship to me. It makes it less of something they chose for themselves and more of a given. Pretty much just like Naruto being Ashura's reincarnation cheapens his own story, it cheapens their relationship too.

I dont want a story about two boys who were destined to be important to each other!!!! I want a story about two orphans who just happened to become important to one another thru a series of coincidences and personal choices. In that way, their relationship gains greater gravity bc it's born from their own hearts Alone. It's Naruto moving mountains for the sake of this boy he loves, and it's Sasuke finally coming back around bc of the force of Naruto's dedication. It means so much more than the implication that they were always meant to be a pair. So I really don't like this narrative choice.

[dairyfreenugget]

I could count the amount of original stories of mine that don't have horror elements on one hand and idk what that says about me

[primus-why]

I secretly hope B127 gets his throat ripped out in the movie cuz I just think making Bumblebee silent in such a brutal (but kinda sick/cool) way is just neat for his character... but alas they likely paid a lot for the VA to be there ahhshsjdjd

[probablygayattorneys]

Okay, now that I've had time to get my bearings and sit with Another Code and really think about what I want to say about it, I am prepared to do so.

First off, the Switch remake is not Trace Memory. In fact, if you were like me and played Trace Memory as a kid but then it kind of fell off your radar and you didn't buy a used copy on eBay to replay it before you replayed the remake, you would be forgiven if you had a little niggling feeling that you couldn't place that you had seen all of this somewhere before, but not where. Ashley's name isn't even the same - Robbins is spelled with only one b, which I do understand is the same as in the original UK version, but was still quite jarring to someone who's only played the US version.

I didn't feel like I was playing the same game. There's not a single puzzle that I remember as being the game, and where the original made use of it's hardware, so too does this game, having puzzles that depend on the gyroscope, which might be frustrating if you're playing in docked mode and the controller you tend to use doesn't have gyroscope controls.

It is certainly more fleshed out. There are more parts of the map that you get to visit, and you learn more about the Edwards family, though it also felt like it unraveled more threads than it was willing to wrap up, which is peculiar because it also got rid of one of the most interesting aspects of the original game, which is the multiple endings. No matter what you do, the game funnels you into the "good" ending, which I won't say more details about, just in case anyone reading this hasn't played it. This is a little annoying, because it feels like it's taking away one of the things about the game that made it so special, that the choices you make ultimately matter, but is also overshadowed by the fact that I suck at this game and always have, so I never got the good ending on my own, so now knowing why what happened had to happen and how things ended up the way they did... it's nice to have the closure I was never skilled enough to achieve on my own.

Another cool aspect of this game is that Sayoko being Japanese is not incidental - they actually spend time explaining various aspects of Japanese culture, instead of DTS cards Richard's diary is left on origami cranes, and there's a sweet moment where they talk about the meaning of the name Mizuki. As well, there's actually more depth given to Sayoko's character, even though she was still fridged.

So ultimately... Is it a faithful 1:1 recreation of the source material? No. In fact, you might feel frustrated because it feels like the game is treating you with kid gloves - from things like the forced good ending to the fact that anytime you're working on a puzzle, you just have to press a button to get hints and if you go through all of them it basically just tells you the answer straight out - which, in all fairness, it is.

But is it still worth playing? Yes. It's still a good game, even with the oversexualization of Ashley and the fact that with the camera, you spend most of the game looking directly at her ass and she's 13 years old. If you like puzzle games, which if you don't why are you even following me, it's definitely a worthy entry into that catalogue, which does seem to have been drying up lately.

Now, do I want them to make a remake of Hotel Dusk in the same style?

Hell fucking no. The game was good, but not "I trust you with my baby" good.

[infernaltenor]

finished up a cos game last night and idk if ive ever been so sad to see a dnd character of mine go

[dawnthefluffyduck]

Wanted to draw but didn't wanna mess with anything that had pen pressure in it just yet, so here's some ms paint doodles done while I watched a manchild play lethal company

[goldentigerfestival]

Using this as an audio reference for the posts I'm making, but to summarize:

Yuri starts out mad.

Yuri tries to calm himself down with a deep breath to ask for details instead of going through it angry.

Flynn doesn't say "like a good knight" in the sense of putting himself down. He simply says "as a knight" (the tl here doesn't use that, but with that included it's basically along the lines of "even though I had doubts, as a knight, I was determined to follow my orders").

Once Yuri has answers he calms down significantly.

Yuri uses " 'ttaku", which is a shortened down version of "mattaku" (Yuri often shortens words and speaks very casually), which in this particular situation basically would mean "geez", or "good grief". In this manner, it's expressive of exasperation/frustration/etc.

Yuri never mentions that "Flynn told him what to do" like the dub does (because in fact Flynn did not ever tell Yuri what to do. He only gave Sodia and his other knights orders. He expressed his own desire to take responsibility, but never told Yuri and his friends what to do).

At this point you can tell the anger has gone out of him and that he's calmed down, now that Flynn is approaching this with admission and responsibility.

Sodia is asking that Flynn returns as soon as possible (I believe this was a general translation error).

Flynn's thank you to Yuri is tonally much more heartfelt.

Yuri's response and gratefulness at Flynn coming back to himself is tonally much more heartfelt, relieved and sincere.