#shin is so miserable (relatable)

[tamariixs]

intro time (funny)

NIKOLAI ▪︎ NIKO ▪︎ KOI

minor ☆ he/him ☆ tmasc ; achillean (mlm) ☆ audhd ; depression ; anxiety ☆ rus/eng

im an artist!!!! ^_^ my current hyperfixation is yttd so it will mostly me that

comissions and requests on sketches r open !!!

if u wanna tag me in anything then YES PLESASE!!!! i rEALLY like calico cats, koi fish and shin tsukimi so yeah tag me in content w them and i will b happey

other blog :: @yttd-artists-daily (i think u know what it is by the title)

other fandoms:: yttd, hello charlotte, hellaverse (hazbin hotel&helluva boss), undertale & deltarune, bsd, good omens, doctor who (9th-last one), and a lot more :P

kinns:: shin tsukimi (pre game mostly), gin ibushi, atsushi nakajima, ranpo edogawa, tetcho suehiro, bennet (hello charlotte), luz noceda, fluttershy, cyno, kaveh, kirara

PLEASE PLAY ROBLOX WITH ME, YTTD FANDOM.

DNI:: basic dni, anti-furry/anti-therian, darkshippers, homophobia, anti-neopronouns/anti-xenogender, anti-selfdiagnosis, !!SUPPORT

[engie-ivy]

(Inspired by @wolfstarmicrofic 's Alternative Universes theme! A sort of combined Performer AU and College AU🙂)

1058 words

Sirius Black's emotional break-up songs are topping the charts all over the world. But hearing those songs everywhere he goes, Remus is about to reach his breaking point.

With His Song

Home is where the heart is,

But it's not the concrete, nor the stone,

Not the room you sit in,

But the smile that lights it up.

Not the bed you sleep in,

But the heartbeat besides your own.

Home is where the heart is,

But it's not necessarily a place,

Sometimes, it's tracing the scars on someone's hand,

Sometimes, it's counting the freckles on someone's face.

It's been so long,

Coming home to you,

And did you know,

I could easily move on?

But the truth is,

I just don't want to.

If home is where the heart is,

Then baby, could it be,

That your home is still with me?

Mary lets out a sigh that seems to be coming from somewhere deep inside of her. “My god, I'm going to listen to that song on repeat for the rest of the week,” and after a moment she adds “potentially the rest of my life.”

“Then you're gonna have to get some headphones,” Remus says. “Because I'm already getting sick of hearing it.”

Mary gasps and clutches her chest. “Blasphemy!”

Remus gives her an unimpressed look. “I don't think you're using that word right.”

“‘Irreverence toward something considered sacred or inviolable’,” Mary states unfazed. “So yes, the perfect description of you insulting Sirius Black's music.”

Emmeline nods emphatically.

Remus sighs. “I'm not saying it's a bad song,” he says. “Just that I'm getting tired of hearing it everywhere, all the time.”

Mary opens her mouth to retort, but Emmeline interjects.

“I do sort of relate. It has gotten a painful tinge to hear the song, now that I know I won't be seeing Sirius Black perform it live…”

“You didn't get tickets for his show?” Marlene asks.

“No,” Emmeline sighs miserably. “I'm on the waiting list. Number 329.”

“Not as bad as Hestia. She's number 1550 or something.”

Emmeline shrugs. “In the end, it makes no difference. 329 or 1550, neither one of us is going to the concert. I mean, 329 people will have to die, and I don't reckon I'd be that lucky…”

“Emmeline!” Lily scolds.

“Well, that's the only excuse for not going to a Sirius Black concert, literally being dead,” Mary says. “I'd actually skip my mum’s funeral if I could see him live.”

“Mary!”

“No, no, Lils,” Emmeline says. “You don't know Mary's mum. If Mary were to miss out on seeing Sirius Black for her funeral, she'd actually come back from the death to haunt her.”

Mary nods. “She's a huge fan. Not going to a Sirius Black concert would be disrespecting her memory.” She glances over at Remus. “She might have some things to say as well if she hears that my actual roommate has openly disrespected Sirius Black’s music.”

Remus sticks out his tongue. “Sue me.”

“As soon as they create a law that makes depreciating Sirius Black illegal, which they should, I will!”

“Anyhow,” Emmeline says. “I haven't heard Sirius Black's voice for almost five minutes and I'm getting withdrawal symptoms,” and she reaches out to put the record back on.

Remus gets up to his feet. “That's my cue to leave.”

“You don't have to, Remus,” Lily says quickly. “If you really don't want us to, we won't put on his music. We value your company more than listening to Sirius Black.”

“Says who? Ow!” Emmeline rubs her shin where Lily kicked her.

Remus smiles at Lily. “Thanks, Lils, but it's okay. I have a paper I need to work on anyway.”

The moment Remus closes the door to his bedroom, he lets out a sigh that seems to be coming from somewhere deep inside of him.

Then, almost without thinking, he takes out his phone and punches in the number by heart.

“Hello?” The voice on the other end of the line sounds surprised and, dare Remus think, hopeful?

“You have to stop doing this,” Remus hears himself say. “No,” he then corrects himself. “You don't have to do anything. I'm asking you. Please stop doing this.”

“Remus, what are you talking about?” He seems to be walking away from something– A promo event? A fancy dinner? An exclusive party?– as Remus can hear the voices in the background grow softer. Remus feels a brief hint of satisfaction; no matter how big the event he's at, how important the people he's with, when Remus calls, he gets up and walks away to talk to him, but Remus quickly corrects himself, because it's not like that anymore.

“It's killing me,” Remus admits, pressing a hand against his forehead. “I understand, but… God, it's killing me.”

“Rem,” Sirius, because of course it's Sirius, says gently. “You're still not making much sense. What are you trying to say? Why are you suddenly calling me? Why… Why now?”

“Your latest releases,” Remus says, as he starts pacing the room, though he can barely take two steps before he reaches the opposite wall. It's rather telling of the difference between them, he can't help but think. Sirius undoubtedly in some grand building surrounded by dozens of people who would fall over themselves to cater to his every whim, and Remus hiding out in his eight square meter bedroom cluttered with textbooks and scribbled notes. “I get why you do it. I'm probably terribly biased,” he lets out a brief laugh. “But I think the songs you wrote when we were together, and even after we just broke up, are your best songs, so I get that you would want to release them, to share them with the world and show everyone once again just how bloody talented you are. And you have every right. They're your works, your creations. But gods, Sirius, I can't pretend anymore.”

“Pretend,” Sirius repeats, his voice almost a whisper, and Remus lets it all out.

“I can't pretend anymore that hearing those songs everywhere I go all the damn time doesn't make me want to die! That it doesn't just break me, to hear your voice sing those words, knowing what they once meant, and knowing that they don't mean that anymore! That you don't mean that anymore.”

“Remus,” Sirius interrupts sharply, and Remus immediately stops talking as Sirius speaks. “Do you really think I could sing those words like that, if I didn't still feel that way?”

And Remus’ breath catches in his throat.

[apoptoses]

“What was Christmas like when you were alive?” Daniel asks.

Across the table Armand drags a piping bag down the length of a cookie. He’s been at it for hours now. Or at least that’s how it feels after going to the store, baking the gingerbread. Laying out all the shit Armand had brought to decorate the house- sprinkles and icing and piping bags and piping tips. The table looks like a holiday war zone.

Daniel rests his chin on his hand and lets his eyes wander.

The fingers squeezing the bag are almost as white as the icing within it, and Daniel wonders if that’s what Armand’s hands look like when they’re squeezing his bicep, his throat. If his skin is as malleable as the frosting, yielding into dimples for Armand’s marble-strong fingers. Amazing that he doesn’t burst the bag with his power.

Armand raises his gaze from the table to Daniel’s face. Daniel clears his throat and fumbles for his cigarettes.

“Are you certain that’s what you want to know?” Armand asks.

Daniel rolls his eyes. His ears burn pink. “Why else would I have asked?”

The thoughtful hum Armand makes is more for his reassurance than anything. A little sound of acknowledgement that normally would be inaudible to the mortal ear made loud so that Daniel is aware he’s thinking; a habit he’d developed not long after Pompeii.

That was three years ago now. Sometimes Daniel thinks he knows just as little about Armand now as he did then. He’s never met someone who lives so thoroughly in the now. Who seems so disinterested in his own past.

Who’s such a miser about letting Daniel help with his craft projects. No touching the cookies, no decorating anything of his own. Just sit back and assist when told. Hungry and bored, Daniel reaches for a gum drop. A foot slams into his shin and he yelps.

“What? You won’t let me help,” Daniel says.

“Because I wish for the result to be a surprise.”

“Then don’t be surprised if I help myself to the supplies,” Daniel insists. “Maybe if you’d answered my question I wouldn’t be eating your stuff.”

Armand gives him a dry look. Daniel pops the gum drop in his mouth.

“I fail to see how the two are related. Anyhow, it was different,” Armand says, and Daniel has to swallow down the ‘obviously’ rising in his throat to keep from starting an argument. “A period centered more around merriment. Christmas of the past had more in common with Roman Saturnalia than it does with the holiday of the modern age.”

“What do you mean?”

“Gifts are the focus now, are they not? Worshipping at the altar of the child and not at that of god. It’s a season of performance and consumption.”

“Mm. Consumption wrapped in the guise of family. Go home for the holidays, if you don’t there must be something pathologically wrong with you.”

Daniel ashes his cigarette. One of Armand’s curls slips out of place, falls across his forehead and into his eyes.

He thinks of his mother. The way she’d sweat and curse over the hot stove. Pearls around her neck, hair in curlers as she rushed to get everything ready before Daniel’s grandparents and uncles and cousins stormed the house. She’d be half drunk before they even got there, off nips of whiskey Daniel now realizes was to take the edge off the pressure she felt to impress everyone.

The windows on the gingerbread house at the Molloy’s had always been built from crooked lines, giving the whole thing the appearance it was liable to fall in on itself. Margaret Molloy would have never tolerated the stack of dirty dishes like they’ve got in the sink. The evidence of her having created anything would have been swept away long before any relatives arrived.

Daniel drags his finger through the powdered sugar that litters the table. He thinks his mom would have a heart attack if she saw the state of their place. The mess Armand has made in his search to try modern traditions.

Armand has never asked if he misses his family. Whether he’d rather be back in Pennsylvania with them than here in New York. If he left now he’d catch the last train. Be there by eleven or twelve. Aunt Linda would probably cry seeing him at the door.

The tip of the piping bag oozes white frosting onto the table when Armand sets it down. He squints at the cookie.

Daniel lifts off his chair, tries to lean across the table and get a look at the front of the gingerbread house. Armand shoos him away.

“Wait. It requires something else.” He picks through the mess of supplies on the table. Icing in all colors, sprinkles, chocolate chips. They’d bought it all and then some. Armand never does anything by halves and Daniel can’t imagine where they’ll keep it all when he’s done. The cabinets are about overflowing as it is. “I’d allow to go, you know. To visit your family.”

Armand says it quiet enough he almost misses it. Daniel’s eyebrows shoot up. He stifles his surprised laugh, choked off noise coming out more like a snort.

“You’d ‘allow me’? Generous of you.”

“Don’t be sarcastic. Family is an ephemeral thing. You have it and then one day, you don’t,” Armand murmurs. “And one evening is- how do you say it? A drop in the bucket for one such as myself.”

“And where would you go if I went?”

Outside the house, probably. Daniel can picture him lingering in the street, watching through the window like in Venice. Even if he can’t see him Daniel’s always been able to feel his presence the way some people say they can feel ghosts. 

Armand shrugs. “I would find something to do, just as I’ve done for centuries now. I’m capable of entertaining myself.”

“Mm.”

Armand’s nails are like glass. Smooth, slick. Just long enough to be sharp at the edges on the nights he doesn’t file them down, and he hasn’t filed them tonight. Daniel can tell by the way he uses them like tweezers to pluck a single sprinkle from the jar.

He could go back and let his mom fuss over his plate, listen to his dad try to make excuses for why his prodigal son spends all of his time far from home, why he doesn’t have a respectable job like his cousin Sean. He could sleep in his childhood bed and feel his mortality in a whole other way. Sit beside the tree his mother never, ever let him help decorate as a child because it had to be just right.

Armand places the sprinkle on the cookie. His fingertip comes away smeared with icing and he stares at it, then reaches across the table and holds it out in front of Daniel’s face.

He doesn’t taste like anything. Vampires don’t secrete bodily oils, and so when Daniel licks his finger clean it reminds him more of licking the plastic spoon his mom used to stir batter with. Smooth and cool and tasteless, except for the sugar that bursts on his tongue.

He wonders if she still has that spoon. If Armand will let him lick frosting from somewhere else when he’s done building- whatever the hell it is.

Armand doesn’t wipe his saliva off when he retracts his hand. Doesn’t comment on Daniel’s wandering thoughts either, or the way his pupils have dilated with them, just stares at his gingerbread house with all the seriousness of an architect. He adjusts a peppermint on the roof then nods.

“There. You may come see it now.”

The legs of Daniel’s chair squeal against the floor. He grinds out his cigarette before he circles the table, comes around to Armand’s side.

The linework on the gingerbread house is unnaturally straight, a carbon copy of the design pictured in the recipe book. Icing drips from the eaves, swirls in graceful arches over the windows and around the door. There’s even a wreath drawn just above the door. And in the powdered sugar snow on the ground stands a figure. A gingerbread man with a sprinkle cigarette dangling from his mouth.

“It’s you.”

Armand’s fangs peek out just above his lower lip when he grins up at him. He’s got powdered sugar on his sweater, in his curls. Daniel rolls his eyes. He rests his hand on the back of Armand’s chair and leans down to kiss the mischief from his mouth.

There’s people who miss him just a hundred miles away. A house so tidy you could eat off the floor, probably even a present under the tree for him on the off chance he comes back. Hell, they could go together. He could introduce Armand as a friend from the city with no family to go home to of his own. It wouldn’t even be a lie.

But Daniel’s got a crooked tree here that they’d decorated together with the mess of ornaments Armand bought at Saks. A sink filled with dishes and enough cookies to last him until Easter at least. And Armand-

Armand’s fingers curl around the back of his neck, pressing little valleys into his flesh with their strength, holding him there as his tongue slips into Daniel’s mouth. Licks some of the sweetness from it and leaves the hair on Daniel’s arms standing on end. Daniel angles his head to the side, opens his mouth a bit more. Kisses a little harder and feels the scrape of fangs on his lip like a threat. Or maybe a promise. Daniel’s too dizzy to know. His hand is busy working its way into Armand’s hair, as though he could actually tug him out of his chair and into the living room. He’ll crawl into his lap right here in the kitchen if he has to.

Then quick as it began it ends. Armand breaks away and pushes Daniel back toward his chair.

“There are more gingerbread people on the tray. You may make one of me to add to our house,” Armand says.

Daniel snorts but it comes out all wrong, like the huff of air someone lets out when they’ve been stabbed. His hands tremble as he picks up the piping bag. One kiss and Armand’s got him this fucked up. “I ‘may’ make one, like it’s a choice and not an order.”

“Yes. And then should it pass my inspection you may help me find something to do with the icing that’s unused.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

Armand dusts the powdered sugar from his sweater. He shakes his hair back into place. The lights of the Christmas tree reflect off his auburn curls, make them glow all colors on the one side of his head, and when he looks at Daniel through his lashes Daniel’s heart races. His lips are parted just enough his fangs peek out from behind them, sharp and white.

“Then I suppose I should have to find some other form of consumption to indulge in. After all, that’s what the holiday is about now, isn’t it?”

It’s a shitty pun. But it makes Daniel’s blood pump hot beneath his skin anyways.

There’s a brick house with a wreath on the door that says ‘Molloy Family’ two states over. The train would only take a couple hours to get there. Here in New York Daniel’s got a piping bag in his hand and Armand sitting across the table swinging his feet like a child. His lips are still stinging-aching-tingling from the kiss. His blood races with the promise of more to come.

“Yeah. I guess it is.”

Armand nods. He rests his chin on his hand and it makes him look so innocent. Thoughtful in a way that's disarming. “Now tell me about Christmas when you were a child, Daniel.”

Daniel takes a deep breath. He drags a crooked line of ricing down the cookie and tries to think back. “Well, what do you want to know?”

[find all my other fics here]

[gay-for-the-snz]

Day 13: Mononucleosis First Aid Kit (M)

A huge thank-you to @xghostlightx for letting me borrow Claire for this prompt! <3 I love her, and getting to use her and explore the dynamic that has otherwise only lived in our DMs was a lot of fun

There is no snz in this one, I'm sorry to say, so this is really more whump fic than sickfic. Heat related illness, a little bit of banter. 2.4k

⁂

Staff events at the university are among the more grueling tasks they ever place upon him as a faculty member. Today's, an array of booths laid out in the plaza advertising various programs to potential students is, naturally, on a day so blisteringly hot that it's convinced even him to be wearing shorts and a branded polo they're all expected to wear, much to his utter chagrin and ceaseless loathing. He checks his watch with a grimace. Three more hours of this farce. No one who isn't already interested is going to see a group of sweaty, miserable professors debasing themselves to give a sales pitch for their program and decide they're going to enroll. If they want to enter the medical program, especially, they've already decided.

He takes a sip from his bottle of water, and eyes the chair that's been sitting abandoned for the better part of an hour. The Dean is stalking the tents, badgering anyone that takes a seat and looks less than fully enthused to the point of absurdity. He isn't keen on getting needled for this particular infraction again, but sitting down even for a moment may be well worth it. He didn't earn tenure to be treated like an underpaid cashier and prevented from doing something so simple as sitting when it's a hundred damn degrees outside and the humidity makes it feel hotter still.

But that's one of the many joys of being a department head--if he isn't here, apparently this entire affair will crumble to dust. He must be here the entire time, but his fellow colleagues are only here for shifts, an hour at a time and then rotating out for much-needed time in the air-conditioned building, instead of underneath a canopy that may as well be a greenhouse the way it's doing nothing to keep the heat out.

The sweat dripping down the back of his neck is a sensory nightmare--wiping it across his skin, even more so. He is doing everything in his power to avoid touching his own skin like this, to feel how he's a sweat-soaked nightmare. A bead of it hangs from the tip of his nose, threatening to get pulled in with each breath. He wrinkles his nose against it, against the grating irritation of it teasing at his nostril.

Thankfully, the antihistamine is holding up well. They haven't mowed the grass in a couple of days, and the pollen levels are low. He may not have even needed one this morning, but it's easier to keep ahead of things than to try and play catch-up once symptoms have already begun.

He will be alone for the next hour, save for the scant few students who are stopping by mostly for the free water on the table, and the Dean, who he anticipates may have a heart attack and die from the stress of attempting to boost flagging admission rates over the last several years. He affords himself the luxury of sitting down on the chair, some wretched canvas folding chair that will bear his weight, but not without complaint.

"My my! Sitting on the job, huh? What a slacker." Dr. Lieberman is obnoxiously bright and cheerful as she comes bouncing up and steals a bottle of water. "They left you all alone over here?"

"Dr. Lieberman." He is acutely aware of a bead of sweat rolling lazily down the back of his neck. "I do believe the humanities department is set up on the opposite end?"

"It is, but I'm on a break, and came to see what our dear, sweet doctor was up to." He scowls, and the expression on her face is nothing short of shit-eating. "I don't know who you are. I don't think I have ever seen your bare shins before--or in anything other than oxfords made from the leather of a baby calf who ate nothing but gold leaf in its time on earth. I feel like you're naked right now."

She, for her part, has rolled the sleeves of her polo up in a way that makes it more like a tank top, tattoos on full, brazen display to the world. There's a faint pink to her skin, speaking to an encroaching sunburn that has yet to fully take root. He considers extolling the virtues of sunscreen, but she knows it, and he doesn't find that he has the particular energy nor desire to do something that would be merely to say he had done it than to effect change.

"Take your fill of the view, because you will never see it again." He would rather gnaw his own arm off like a coyote in a trap than to be dressed like this by choice, let alone to do so again in the future. Especially if anyone is able to be privy to it. It's already a difficult enough time convincing himself to do it for hiking, and this is only permissable because he cannot convince himself to ruin perfectly good clothing with an activity that is known to be dirty and hard-wearing. This is his sole pair of shorts, and sole pair of tennis shoes, and they see relatively useful use outside of whatever weekend is too poor of weather to fish but too nice of weather to permit himself to squander it sitting in his home.

"I don't blame you for choosing the shorts route--this may be what it feels like in one of the circles of Hell. Which one had all the flames?"

"The sixth."

"Then we're definitely in the sixth." She presses the bottle to the back of her neck, and sits down in the abandoned chair beside him. "What great sin are you guilty of, Doctor?"

"If we're in the sixth, we're guilty of heresy. I might be accused of something different, though. Perhaps pride, or wrath."

"I can see you as a pride guy, yeah." She leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "I don't think I've convinced a single person to actually major in psychology. I don't know why we do this--especially as an adjunct. Shouldn't this be the job of you fine men and women with tenure and offices and, I don't know, more seniority or whatever?"

"I don't know why I'm here, even as a department head. Perhaps especially as one of them. Surely my time is more valuable than to be sitting here baking to death in the heat while a handful of this nation's prospective future doctors decide to take a flyer and a bottle of water and go to bask in the air conditioning." He grits his teeth, steeling himself for the feeling of sweat-on-skin and wipes at the back of his neck.

His skin isn't the hot, sticky thing he expects, but rather something cooler, clammier. Ah. Yes. Well, that would explain the headache, too.

"Claire." Her actual name seems to snap her to attention, startled from their mutual kvetching and people watching. "Get me the first aid kit."

"Why?" Despite the question, she wastes no time in actually following direction. She hefts it up onto the table, the bright red plastic an eyesore against the sterile white of the plastic tablecloth that's fluttering in the weak breeze of the little fan someone clipped to the edge of it earlier.

He clears his throat, uncaps his water and takes a drink of it. "Do you remember our seminar earlier this month, in preparation for this?"

"I--sort of. Mostly. I remember the broad strokes of it."

"There should be a couple of instant cold packs in there, labeled and easy to see. Two or three of them, if no one's taken any out already. Grab them."

"Oh!" Now she's getting it. She's no fool, nor is she someone who's slow on the uptake. "I've gotta tell you, if you die of heat exhaustion, it's really gonna put a damper on convincing anyone we can teach them anything about medicine."

"I wouldn't die of heat exhaustion, I'd more likely die of heat stroke, or some complication of my blood pressure."

"Oh, well in that case it's so different." He can hear the eye roll, even without seeing her.

He unbuckles his watch, sets it on the table, and unbuttons the collar of his polo. She looks like he's bare ass nude in front of her at the faint glimpse of his chest hair. "What are you, a prude? Here I thought a punk would be more body positive."

"Why are you taking your clothes off?"

"Loosening clothing." He would rather risk actually dying right here under this ugly tent than to have to undress in front of her--or, god forbid, in front of any random passerby. "The ideal thing to do would be to bathe in cool water or ice water, but I am not walking to the athletics department and using their shower."

"So what's the second to ideal?"

"Loosening clothing, as a first step, and then cooling me off. We're going into the air-conditioned building, and you get to sit with me and closely monitor my condition."

"As fun as sitting outside in the heat sounds, I think I'd rather take the babysitting a sweaty man so he doesn't die."

"Stop saying that I'm going to die. It isn't your judgment call to make, and I'm giving you mine that my life isn't in danger. We are taking appropriate steps within an appropriate timeframe." He grabs another bottle of water from the table and trudges towards the doors to the building, ignoring the looks from colleagues as they pass.

"Okay, fine, you won't die. My aid and boundless medical knowledge combined will see you through." He can feel her anxiety radiating off of her like a dog that knows it's being taken to the vet. "We'll just sit together until you feel better."

"I wouldn't let you leave even if you wanted to."

The door to his office is locked, and it takes him a second longer than he'd like it to to actually get it open. "Okay, so what am I--oh my God?"

She is, evidently, taken aback by the fact that he's taken to removing his shirt. There is nothing he wants to be doing less than this, but he would prefer this to heatstroke measures in an hour if he doesn't respond to these ones. The aches are starting to set into his muscles, not yet cramping but uncomfortable and threatening to lean that direction.

Sweat clings to him like a second skin, wetting the layer of hair across his chest and stomach, while a pair of lines that arc beneath his nipples where the hair doesn't grow. The scars themselves have faded into near obscurity, but the mark they left behind unable to truly be removed with time. He grimaces at the fact that he is being borne witness to, even as she tries to avoid looking at him as much as possible.

Goosebumps cover his exposed skin as he awkwardly sits himself down on the floor with a grunt, and then leans back until he's laying down with his feet rested on the seat of his desk chair. It's hardly comfortable, that doesn't get a chance to factor in at this particular moment in time. He squeezes one of the packs till it bursts, and wraps it in his shirt to lay under the back of his neck. The others he's willing to tempt fate and apply directly to his skin, if only briefly.

"Where do these go, usually?" She follows his lead, squeezing the packs and shaking them more violently than is really required. "I can put them on you, if it helps."

"The groin--"

"Okay, I'm going to amend that statement actually. Anywhere except there."

"--under the arms, on the back, the neck. You'll be watching me for signs of distress, confusion, loss of consciousness; if I appear to you to be worsening, or not improving within the next hour, then it is your responsibility to overrule any objections I may raise and call emergency services. Your job of 'babysitting a sweaty man' is more to be monitoring me and using your judgment in the event mine is questionable."

She frowns, and for a moment he wonders if she's going to reject the responsibility of his wellbeing. "Alright." She doesn't want to look at him yet, but she does sneak a little glance uncomfortably.

"You are aware that you'll have to be looking at me to monitor me?"

She looks torn between a laugh and a grimace. "I know. I just--it's strange."

He rolls his eyes. "I never took you for the shy type."

"It's not that I'm shy, it's just--different when it's you. I don't want to see you, and you don't want to be seen. A body is a body is a body, but this isn't a body, it's your body." She does, however, manage to make eye contact with him.

"Your sentiments are thoughtful, but unhelpful. I would rather you look at me and accept that I am a husky, sweaty, hairy adult man who is currently heat exhausted instead of attempting to spare us both the discomfort. I think we will both find this more pleasant than the sight would be of my body being exposed in a hospital instead of the floor of my office."

She awkwardly takes a seat on the floor beside him, then lays down flat on her back at his side, kicks her shoes up on the corner of his desk. "I guess we can both lay down. It'd look weird if you were by yourself, at least this way we look like we're doing something intentional."

"If anyone sees what we're doing, I'm resigning effective immediately."

"Joseph?"

"Dr. Lieberman."

"You're going to be fine, right?"

He huffs a laugh, the sound of it fatigued and without any joy, and looks over at her. "I will be. I'm aware that I look bad, and that having this responsibility foisted upon you is nerve-wracking, and while I don't want you to think that there is no danger, or that this is merely a practicality, but I also don't want you to be consumed with anxiety over it."

She reaches over, awkwardly touches his bare forearm with a little pat that sees her instinctively wiping her hand on her shorts in the aftermath. "No consumption. Just a normal, well-moderated, situationally appropriate amount."

"Good." Thankfully, he doesn't feel entirely hellish. He certainly isn't feeling right as rain--far from it, really--but he's at least secure in the feeling of starting to recover a bit. He's no longer necessarily concerned with heatstroke, now he's merely dealing with the heat exhaustion itself.

They lapse back into silence, slightly more comfortable this time than before.

[houseofcatwic]

"Jim, Who ran away from his Nurse, and was eaten by a Lion" by Hilaire Belloc.

There was a Boy whose name was Jim;

His Friends were very good to him.

They gave him Tea, and Cakes, and Jam,

And slices of delicious Ham,

And Chocolate with pink inside

And little Tricycles to ride,

And read him Stories through and through,

And even took him to the Zoo--

But there it was the dreadful Fate

Befell him, which I now relate.

You know--or at least you ought to know,

For I have often told you so--

That Children never are allowed

To leave their Nurses in a Crowd;

Now this was Jim's especial Foible,

He ran away when he was able,

And on this inauspicious day

He slipped his hand and ran away!

He hadn't gone a yard when--Bang!

With open Jaws, a lion sprang,

And hungrily began to eat

The Boy: beginning at his feet.

Now, just imagine how it feels

When first your toes and then your heels,

And then by gradual degrees,

Your shins and ankles, calves and knees,

Are slowly eaten, bit by bit.

No wonder Jim detested it!

No wonder that he shouted ``Hi!''

The Honest Keeper heard his cry,

Though very fat he almost ran

To help the little gentleman.

``Ponto!'' he ordered as he came

(For Ponto was the Lion's name),

``Ponto!'' he cried, with angry Frown,

``Let go, Sir! Down, Sir! Put it down!''

The Lion made a sudden stop,

He let the Dainty Morsel drop,

And slunk reluctant to his Cage,

Snarling with Disappointed Rage.

But when he bent him over Jim,

The Honest Keeper's Eyes were dim.

The Lion having reached his Head,

The Miserable Boy was dead!

When Nurse informed his Parents, they

Were more Concerned than I can say:--

His Mother, as She dried her eyes,

Said, ``Well--it gives me no surprise,

He would not do as he was told!''

His Father, who was self-controlled,

Bade all the children round attend

To James's miserable end,

And always keep a-hold of Nurse

For fear of finding something worse.

Hilaire Belloc

[mazinwraith]

So here’s how I’m imagining some of the next SRW’s connections if my predictions end up being correct. (They probably wont.)

Getter Robo Devolution will connect with Getter Robo Arc and Gridman/Dynazenon. Both for very obvious reasons. And some minor connections with ULTRAMAN. Probably feeling like they’re somehow related but don’t actually know how.

Ryoma getting thrown for a loop when he meets a certain someone is honestly going to be pretty funny. Benkei and Hayato giving him crap will also be great.

I can imagine Gridman and the Neon Genesis students will be well aware of Devolution Getter and it’s enemies. Likely having fought some at some point before the plot starts. (Their show and the game)

For Getter Robo Arc I’m imagining it’s main connections will be with Evangelion, Mazinger Z, Mobile Suit Gundam, and GaoGaiGar Vs. Betterman. Evangelion because Takuma could become a big brother figure for Shinji. Especially in 3.0+1.0. Both having fathers connected to machines they were ultimately destined to pilot into battle against forces from beyond Earth. A pilot from both sides being a “double agent” of sorts but actually befriends the main protagonist. Both machines being tied to unspeakable horrors beyond human comprehension. Also moms are deceased. It works pretty damn well.

Arc stops a berserk Eva during it’s debut battle and also bring back the “Getter Robo terrifies angels and Evangelions” since Getters at this point in the story are horrifying. And if the cast learns about Emperor, things will get bad from the fear and paranoia they will all feel. And also having Shin Getter Robo Tarak to call back to Alpha’s scene where a berserk Eva01 is cowering in a corner when Shin Getter Robo shows up.

The Mazinger and Gundam connections are easy as they are more for the SRW traditions than actual plot for respective stories. Koji, Tetsuya, and Amuro want to be there for Ryoma’s son. Since he isn’t with them anymore. They want to help the new generation by training all the future getter pilots. And as such Ichinanas and mass produced Federation Mobile Suits will probably back up the Getter Robo D2’s against the bugs.

Another minor detail is having them be there participating in the war from Getter Robo Go. Just some throw away lines but show that they still helped pre game plot.

At this point it would be an after story or mid story for Mazinger Z Infinity. Before Tetsuya is captured if mid story.

As for GaoGaiGar, it’s only minor but it’s more symbolic for the next generation as Mamoru and Kaido would be peers with the Arc team. That could fit an overall theme of the game if they include more next generation type stories. Another thing is having the Getter Emperor attacking 000 as well while in space. All it’s summons trying to destroy the Emperor super robot and failing miserably.

Pretty fun to think about. How the stories could connect in some fun ways.

[rosecoloredfun]

JIM Who ran away from his nurse and was eaten by a lion.

by Hillaire Belloc

There was a boy whose name was Jim His friends were very good to him They gave him tea and cakes and jam And slices of delicious ham And chocolate with pink inside And little tricycles to ride They read him stories through and through And even took him to the zoo But there it was the awful fate Befell him, which I now relate You know (at least you ought to know For I have often told you so) That children never are allowed To leave their nurses in a crowd Now this was Jim's especial foible He ran away when he was able And on this inauspicious day He slipped his hand and ran away He hadn't gone a yard when BANG With open jaws a lion sprang And hungrily began to eat The boy, beginning at his feet Now just imagine how it feels When first your toes and then your heels And then by varying degrees Your shins and ankles, calves and knees Are slowly eaten bit by bit No wonder Jim detested it No wonder that he shouted "Ai" The honest keeper heard his cry Though very fat, he almost ran To help the little gentleman "Ponto," he ordered as he came For Ponto was the lion's name "Ponto," he said with angry frown "Down sir, let go, put it down!" The lion made a sudden stop He let the dainty morsel drop And slunk reluctant to his cage Snarling with disappointed rage But when he bent him over, Jim The honest keeper's eyes grew dim The lion having reached his head The miserable boy was dead When nurse informed his parents they Were more concerned than I can say His mother as she dried her eyes Said "It gives me no surprise He would not do as he was told." His father who was self-controlled Bade all the children round attend To James's miserable end. And always keep ahold of nurse For fear of finding something worse.

[aesthetic-bastard]

Media Interaction 2023

May

My Solo Exchange Diary - I was really surprised at the progression this autobiography took vs this author's previous autobiography (My Lesbian Experience With Loneliness). It's tough to read at times given that it's very depressing but satisfying to see the author eventually seek help in the final chapters.

No Longer Human - the art in this manga is gorgeous, but this modernized adaptation left me conflicted. I'm unsure of its faithfulness to the original novel, it feels more inspired by the book than based on it but despite its miserable nature, the development was oddly captivating to me.

Danzi - this is probably the first thing I have read that is classified as manhwa as opposed to manga. Even though this Korean webcomic was really heartbreaking this was an excellent autobiography making light of issues such as domestic abuse and sexism while also having a strong message about solidarity through pain.

My Alcoholic Escape From Reality - I had a very neutral reaction to a lot of the sensitive topics discussed in this autobiography sense it is nothing I can deeply relate to but can understand how addictions can affect people struggling with mental illnesses. Upon reading, I found no significant insights except for the author's realization at the age of 31. They discovered that their art and career have always been centered on their longing for love and the feeling of loneliness. They consider themselves adept at conveying these emotions through their art which I found to be extremely significant to me.

Straying Warrior Kabi Nagata: Go Gourmet - I think this memoir was dropped by the author and never continued to publish since 2021 so I don't have very many thoughts to elaborate on after reading only 4 chapters but I guess this is something I should include in this blog post.

My Wandering Warrior Existence - this hit me very hard and I think it's the author's second most relatable work, next to her debut memoir. Her raw exploration of gender and sexuality cut very deep and gave further context to a lot of the experiences she has suffered in her life. I felt like this memoir gave so much insight into the events discussed in the first 3 autobiographies this author has published which further makes them more relatable to me.

Devilman - this is another one of those franchises where I could just tell it would make me experience levels of autism not humanly possible. This series surprised me by how short it was but I really loved the art with its extremely graphic depictions of violence and cartoony character designs. I found myself very sad with how it ended but it surpassed my expectations for how homoerotic it truly was. I did not expect this manga to have a very nuanced approach to sexuality and violence which made it deeply impactful for me to read.

Devilman: The Birth - I thought this was a pretty adequate adaption for the origin of Devilman and doesn't alter too much from the original manga so it's very pleasing to see the characters and the first arc of the story adapted into animation. I made the mistake of watching the English dub of this OVA instead of the original Japanese audio with subtitles on my first watch-through. Granted the English dub is hilariously awful I was really taken aback by how much the dub butchers the original dialog and portrayal of the original characters. The sub of course is on par with the original manga, I have just never encountered a dub that was so awful it made me reflect on the tremendous issue with localized English dubs of anime.

Devilman: The Demon Bird - this OVA had a lot more action in comparison to the first one but felt like 3 arcs shoved into one feature-length film. Regardless I still really enjoyed the animation as well as the original soundtrack.

Shin Devilman - this side story was so wildly out of pocket it left me flabbergasted. The historical revisionism in this series is so horrible I don't know whether to laugh or to cry but at least we get that one scene where Ryo admits that he's gay.

Amon: Apocalypse of Devilman - this OVA is completely divorced from the first two Devilman OVAs so I thought it was the weakest out of the three. I didn't care for the confusing overly dramatic edgy storytelling nor did I care for the updated art style. I got 10 minutes into this OVA and I just really wanted it to be over.

Inside The Mind Of A Cat - this is a documentary my dad randomly put on the tv one night and since I watched it from start to finish it belongs on the list. I thought it was pretty ok definitely entertaining enough to receive my full attention. I liked the brief history of domesticated cats the most out of the whole documentary. I really enjoyed learning about how cats were spread across every continent and the first discovery of cats being buried along with human remains to indicate the first instance of felines being kept as cherished pets.

Divina Commedia in Devilman - this is one of those doujins by CLAMP and I did not expect there to be one for Devilman. Most of this doujin was just gag comics that didn't get very much of a reaction out of me but the last chapter is was more fleshed out and it hit me like a truck.

[zaenaris]

Shinichiro, his anger and dark impulses // Spoilers ch. 270

I love to see the consequences of Mikey's accident, even if everything is terribly sad. 

Sazu lost it also in the OG timeline (and he's not the only one). 

He still have a shitty relationship with Takeomi. 

Senju nowhere to be seen. 

Baji is directionless and it means he probably never met  Kazutora (let alone Chifuyu, since they met somehow through Toman). 

Granpa Sano that seemed immortal in the other timelines, here dies soon and Emma left 💔 

Poor child, she probably felt once again neglected, first by her mom and later by her brother, once again all alone in the world. I wonder if she maybe tried to find Izana, or maybe ended up in the wrong crowd (maybe she found Draken along the way :') it's the only thing that could bring me some peace) 

But wait, does it mean Sakurako died as well? she was not mentioned in the chapter. Maybe in OG timeline she was already dead??? Where is she??? 

 Sanzu is right one one thing tho: Mikey doesn't even look like himself, poor baby is a skeleton kept alive by a machine; it's so sad. The only moment where he looks at peace is after he dies. What a cruel irony. 

It's so sad that, regardless the timeline, Manjiro seems fated to have a miserable life 💔 

Shin in those 4 years did everything (legal and illegal) to help Mikey but in the end it was for nothing. Then Waka appears. 

Shin stronger than me, I'd have punched Waka in the face, I expected Shin to punch him tbh, kinda disappointed he didn't (I like Waka and I talk as a ShinWaka shipper but holy shit). 

I get that what Waka probably meant was "I hate you're suffering, I'm sorry for your brother but he has been basically dead for years... Death had mercy on him so maybe now you can live as well, sorry bro, you did enough, let Manjiro rest. You deserve some peace as well" but he said it in the worst possible way, especially considering everything Shin did. 

Waka is in the Yakuza and owns a bar, some drunk guy talks about time leaping and Shin, that is desperate, decides to give it a shot. In this chapter we see Shin incredibly angry and frustrated, he even beat random people to a pulp. Now, we've always been told (emphasis on been told never  actually saw) that. Shin couldn’t fight.

Things are 2: either it's true he can't fight and that scene was just meant to underline how hurt, frustrated, sad, angry etc Shin is, after 4 years where he annihilated himself and he just couldn't take it anymore or he was perfectly able to fight but for some reason in the altered timeline he decided he couldn't to it, maybe because he was trying to change the events. Idk we'll see.

I wonder if Mikey’s dark impulses in our current timeline are somehow related to Shin’s feelings of helplessness, anger, frustration, sadness etc. I wonder if this is the pay to price for your beloved once, when you tries to change destiny for their sake. Again, we will see 

 Now, next chapter we'll probably learn something on how Shin leaped to the past. An old man is mentioned: I wonder if he's someone that will actually give us some explanation or if it's just a red herring and he's just some poor bastard that ended up time leaping just like it happened to Takemichi.

[steelycunt]

18 please, things you said when you were scared! ❤️

hiiii! thank you! i took liberties with this one a bit but im having lots of fun using this game as an excuse to write all the scenes ive thought about before but never had a reason/place to write <33 cw for a little blood in relation to ear piercing/general piercing squeamishness!

[also kids please do not follow sirius black's home piercing methods he's fourteen and dumb and i advise you to look it up online to do it safely and sterilise your equipment instead of trusting a word he says!!]

18. things you said when you were scared.

“You look scared,” Sirius tells him, drying the safety pin on his shirttail. “Don’t be. It doesn’t hurt that badly—I did my own ear fine, didn’t I?”

Remus scoffs, a rough, biting sound that ricochets against the toilets' stone walls and slices Sirius across the abdomen in the process. “I’m not scared. I’ve managed to build up a fairly high pain tolerance over the years, you know,” he replies, dryly. “Can’t imagine why.”

“Well, tell your face to act accordingly, then. Stop wincing. I haven’t even touched you yet.”

“I’m not wincing. I just don’t want it to look stupid,” Remus says.

Sirius frowns at that, touches a finger absently to the silver hoop cutting through the meat of his own lobe. He sits back on his heels. “Mine—mine doesn’t look stupid, does it?”

“No,” Remus mutters, glancing away. “Yours looks cool. But I don’t—you know. I don’t very well look like you, Sirius, do I?”

“…What d’you mean?”

The tap Sirius used to clean their equipment drips, miserably. Moaning Myrtle is sniffling to herself in the furthest stall from where they’re sat (they both declined a date in a U-bend with her). Sirius leans, ducks to try and meet Remus’ gaze, stumbles face-first into the green of his eyes.

He’s got rather nice eyes.

“Nothing,” Remus says, finally, giving an awkward little shrug and a jerk of his head. “Never mind. Come on, then. Let’s get on with it. I think I want it in my left ear, alright?”

“Al—alright.” Sirius straightens; as he tosses dark, feathered strands of hair from his face, the room tips back onto some prior, balanced axis. He plucks up his safety pin and the rubber they took from Remus’ pencil case, sword and shield. “Okay. Okay, so—tilt your head to the side a little? Bit more. Yeah, like that. Alright, uh—”

Choosing decisively not to dwell on the stretched, upturned junction of Remus’ jaw and neck, Sirius shuffles closer on his knees. Remus closes his eyes, gold-brown lashes dusting the tops of his cheeks. There’s a hard, porcelain something clattering furiously against the backs of Sirius’ teeth as he holds the rubber behind Remus’ earlobe.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, the word trembling between its syllables. He presses his thumb gently to the shell of Remus’ ear, steadying, and watches him shiver softly. “My hands are a bit cold, I think.”

Remus’ Adam’ Apple jumps beneath the pale skin of his throat. “It’s fine. Just, er, try and get the piercing sort of central,” he mumbles. He sounds a bit hoarse.

“Yeah. You…you don’t have to hold your breath, Moons.” Sirius edges forward, knee knocking against Remus’ crossed shins. He wets his lips, tries to still his hand as he positions the needle of the safety pin. Either Myrtle’s done weeping, or the sound just isn’t reaching him anymore; everything bar the two of them suddenly feels very far away.

“You’ll barely feel it. Promise.”

“I know. I’m—I’m not. Just do it,” Remus replies, “just do it, now,”, and so Sirius does: counts, silently, one-two-three-fuck, drives the point through the flesh of Remus’ ear and into the rubber behind it. Remus exhales as the metal moves, slowly and calmly through his nose.

“Done,” Sirius announces, tossing the rubber down and pushing the safety pin closed. “I think that’s pretty good, but I need to—s’bleeding a little, wait…”

He reaches blindly across the floor behind himself until his fingers close around the damp rag he’s looking for, brings it up to Remus’ ear and dabs, light as possible, against the welling beads of red. A pearl of pink water rolls down the side of Remus’ neck, slips beneath the collar of his shirt, and Sirius says, “Sorry.”

“S’fine.”

“It’s better than mine was. I bled all over the sink, had to ask Reg to help.” Sirius balls the rag up, worries his tongue between his teeth as he finishes mopping around the safety pin. “Uh, sorry, I need to…” he trails off, resting tentative fingers against the nape of Remus’ neck. Sirius guides his head forward to reach what’s left of the blood at the back of his ear, and realizes only then—not for lack of attention, but for lack of a single sense loud enough over the horrible throbbing of his own heart against his ribs—that Remus has gone very, very still.

“There,” he says, lowering the rag. “You’ll have to—leave that in, for, uh, twenty minutes or so, and then I’ll swap it…swap it out for an earring.”

Remus says nothing. Hovering over him like this, Sirius can feel his breath, hot, as it flutters the fabric of his shirt. He urges Remus’ head upright again, palm sweat-slippery and lingering against his skin even afterwards, burning along its creases.

“Well?” Remus blinks at him, rapidly, once, twice. “How does it look?”

Sirius drags his eyes away from Remus’, flicking over to the safety pin in his ear. He drops his hand into his lap, curls it into a fist. “Looks cool,” he answers, stiffly, truthfully.

“Yeah?” A smile collects in the dimple of Remus’ cheek, fine like silt.

“Yeah.” Here, Sirius is near enough to see the split skin of Remus’ chapped bottom lip, little white cut curling down his chin; he coughs, looks upwards. “Yeah, it suits you. You look, uh—I mean, yeah, Moons. You know, you always...I always think you’re—”

But Remus gets there first, finishes his sentence for him by leaning forward to press his own mouth to Sirius’ gaping one, just for a moment, chaste and quiet and palm cupping Sirius’ cheek; a few bone-brittle seconds that are over before Sirius can catch up.

They pull away; Remus’ eyebrows lift. Sirius parts his lips to say something, comes up empty.

“Sorry,” Remus cuts in. “You just—you looked a little scared.”

[doctors-star]

Before the beginning and pov!!

“You can’t be enjoying this,” Nightingale says, huddled up in his good wool coat with the collar turned up against the wind. He’s too well-brought up to hunch his shoulders up to his ears, but only just. The drizzle and sideways wind has backcombed his hair out of its usual pin-neatness and into a wayward tangle of curls, which he doesn’t seem to have noticed. Lesley hopes he never will.

In reply, Peter whoops and kicks a great spray of surf into the air, and then turns away squawking when the wind blows it straight back onto him. It is an absolutely miserable day - everything, sky, sea, and Southend all, is entirely grey and wet and cold, for all that it’s mid-August. The only colour is the bright pink and green of their pac-a-macs and the distant neon of the arcade. Lesley has muddy sand up to her knees and she can’t feel her feet, numbed by standing in the sea, but she is, in fact, enjoying herself.

“How d’you know if we’re enjoying it,” Lesley says, “you’re not doing it.”

“You won’t know unless you try,” Peter recites dutifully; Nightingale looks unimpressed, and then recoils back as Peter kicks a wave at him.

“That relates to Molly’s cooking,” Nightingale corrects, “and not to getting hypothermia in the North Sea. Besides - I was taken on holidays when I was your age, and can remember the sensation.”

“Tastes change over time,” Peter points out.

“Between the ages of nine and thirteen, yes,” Nightingale says. “Between twenty and a hundred and ten, no.”

“You don’t know that, actually,” Peter says. “You’re actually the only person who could find out, too - what if your tastes are on a loop, and every hundred years they reset? You might be back to stuff you liked when you were ten, or-”

“The only way to stop him is to get in,” Lesley says, as Nightingale stands on the beach and looks increasingly tired and baffled.

“That’s very much what I feared,” he says dryly. But before Peter can object, Nightingale sighs and leans down to unlace his shoes. “Surely,” he says, “in all the weeks of the summer holiday there must be some better weather we could have waited for.”

“Not so far,” Lesley says, pulling wet hair off her face and tucking it back inside her hood. “And next weekend is the bank holiday, so it’ll only be worse.”

“Doubtless,” Nightingale says with little enthusiasm, tucking his socks into his shoes and rolling up his trousers. “But I refuse to queue for the Science Museum again, so - angels and ministers of-!”

Lesley and Peter nearly fall over laughing. Nightingale glowers at them, standing on pale, boney tip-toes in the surf, and trying generally to look like he hadn’t nearly shrieked at the water temperature. He is not very successful.

“It’s bloody freezing,” he says rather sternly, as if this mitigating factor might make them stop laughing. Unfortunately, every time she and Peter make eye contact they fall about giggling again, no matter what Nightingale says. “This is awful.”

“Yeah, it is,” Lesley manages through a mouthful of laughter. “God, it’s so cold.”

Nightingale settles into the surf, wincing as it washes against his ankles. “What happened to proper summers?” he opines, trying to tuck his arms around himself without wiping his sandy shoes on his coat.

“What, were they better when you were a kid?” Peter says, stomping about and splashing Lesley; she kicks some water at him in return.

“No, they were worse; I’m wishing for a return to the good old days of last year,” Nightingale says. He dabbles a foot in the surf, watching the white horses rush towards his shins, and then eyes Peter and Lesley. “May we go for fish and chips now? I’ve experienced…this,” he says, glancing around at the wall of grey water and sea fog. “Haven’t you had enough?”

“We’re having a beach day!” Peter protests, wind cracking against his mac as he puts his arms up as if in triumphant celebration. “We’re at the seaside!”

“Yes - a traditional British outing which consistently involves hiding in a café, and then in the arcade, and anywhere else that the rain is not,” Nightingale says.

“Ooh,” Lesley says, trudging through the water towards Nightingale and the shore. “Have you got any change? Can we do the penny falls?”

Nightingale looks gently, fondly amused at her. “Anything,” he says, “if it’s indoors and dry, and you never ask me to paddle in this weather again.”

Peter nods sharply. “Done,” he says, splashing towards dry land. “It’s freezing out here.”

Nightingale looks like he can’t decide whether to object or count his blessings - he settles for rolling his eyes discreetly and making a hasty exit while he can. Lesley splashes off after him, jogging to catch up, and then tucks her wet hand into his coat pocket to warm up. He looks down enquiringly and she beams back. “This is a proper summer holiday,” she tells him.

Nightingale, a little bedraggled with rain and rosy cheeked with cold, smiles wryly back. “Yes,” he says, “I suppose it rather is.”

[danses-with-dogmeat]

so, How do you think the companions would react to finding out sole has advanced prosthetics from their time in the war? (i headcannon fem sole as some sort of SOF during the war, coz lawyer is just boring >.>)

Fallout 4 Companions react to Sole having advanced prosthetics from before the bombs fell. 

Hey anon, thanks so much for the ask! This was really interesting to think about, and yeah, I also headcannoned one of my OCs as a soldier before the bombs fell, cuz yeah... not sure how helpful being a lawyer would be in post-apocalyptic times 😅 I hope you enjoy!

Cait:

     Her eyes would fall to the line across Sole’s right elbow, wondering how she hadn’t noticed it before. She wouldn’t care too much, and wouldn’t treat them any differently, but she would be interested in how Sole had gotten their injury, and would certainly try and coax the whole story out of them (resorting to the use of alcohol if necessary to loosen their lips). She was so bold about her own traumatic past experiences, so Sole could surely tell her about this one thing, right? The brawler might also be interested in the physical abilities of their prosthetic arm and hand, wondering if it would give them an edge in the next bar fight they found themselves in.

Curie:

     She would be very interested in every detail Sole could provide regarding their prosthetic shoulder, left chest plate, and arm. The scientist wouldn’t be able to contain herself, asking question after question about its functionality, the nature of Sole’s injury before they received the prosthetic, their rehabilitation process, the way the prosthetic interacts with Sole’s body and how it's able to move. As Sole stood there, trying to figure out where to begin, Curie’s eyes would widen in surprise at her own rudeness, she would apologize and ask if Sole was comfortable discussing their injury with her. As she finds out more, Curie would begin to try and create her own prosthetics based off of Sole’s in order to help any handicapped patients she came across in the Commonwealth.

Danse:

     The paladin’s eyes would widen at Sole’s words. He never would have guessed that Sole’s entire left hip and leg was an advanced prosthetic, and the commanding officer would be curious as to why they hadn’t mentioned it to him earlier. He would feel guilty as he thought back on all of the times he pushed them harder, told them to gruffly to keep up or to continue moving after it seemed like they needed rest. He would apologize and ask how he could help to better accommodate Sole, offering to speak to Proctor Teagan and Proctor Ingram about Sole’s circumstances and possible improvements to their power armor or the prosthetic itself. Danse would be a little hesitant, but ultimately he would gain the courage to ask if they would be comfortable telling him about how they were injured, going so far as to share some of the stories surrounding his own battle scars with them in return.

Deacon:

     Deacon would have been curious as to why Sole always wore their sunglasses, he often thought perhaps they were simply mocking him. But one night, as they removed their shades and locked eyes with him, he would notice the difference in coloration and ask them about it. When they told him one of their eyes was a fully functioning prosthetic, he'd be a little shocked, not even aware that those existed, but interested nonetheless. Apart from the occasional joke about Sole getting an eye patch, being a pirate, or just sight-related puns in general, he would be pretty chill about the whole thing. If Sole wanted to tell him more about it, he was open to it, but he wouldn't mind if they wanted to keep it to themself. No matter how much he knows, Deacon would be protective of his partner, and would try his best to keep their prosthetic a secret from as many people as possible, since it is such a unique feature of theirs.

Hancock:

     He wouldn't even break eye contact with Sole when they told him about their prosthetic right arm and shoulder, he would just ever so slightly raise the ridge above his eyes in surprise at having never noticed before. It really wouldn't matter to him, and he would treat Sole the same way he always has, just maybe he would try and stick to the right of them more often since he knows that it's their weaker side. If they're ever in any pain, he'll of course have a plethora of chems on hand to help relieve them of it. He won't be one to openly ask about their past and their injury, but if they want to tell him, he's all ears and no judgment.

MacCready:

     He would try to act nonchalant when they told him about their prosthetic forearm, wrist, and hand, but his expression would clearly give away his shock. What do you mean it’s not real!? How does it work? What happened to your real arm? Can you still feel stuff with it? Does it make it harder to aim? How does it move? A hundred questions would tumble into his mind, but he would try his best to keep them all from spilling out of his mouth at once, putting on a cool front, he’d simply nod and tell them that he’s glad they felt they could tell him about it, and that would be the end of it for now. As they continue traveling together, he would periodically voice one of the questions he had thought of before, still trying to seem aloof about the whole thing. In reality, he thinks it’s really cool, and it reminds him of a few comic book characters he’s read about.

Nick:

     The detective was nothing short of astounded when he looked into Sole’s eyes for the first time after finding out they were fully functioning prosthetics. He couldn’t believe it, they looked so realistic, he never would have known if he hadn’t been told. Finding out about Sole’s eyes honestly made the synth feel more at home around them; not that they had ever made him feel alienated as a synth, but now he felt like they could empathize with him a bit more easily. Although, he must admit, he’s a little jealous of their normal-looking eyes in comparison to his own. The older synth has made his peace with who and what he is, having been this way his whole synthetic life, but he may just approach Sole and speak to them about where, hypothetically, he could find prosthetics like theirs, and would consider speaking to Dr. Amari about installing them. Sole, of course, would help him out, all while making sure Nick knew how much they liked his eyes the way that they are.

Piper:

     The reporter's eyes would slowly widen with each inch Sole's pant leg was rolled up to expose their prosthetic ankle, shin, and knee. She would then try to contain her shock, but would fail pretty miserably as her interviewing instinct kicked in and she began firing off every question that entered her mind. Most of them had to do with how Soles life changed after they had their injury, and then received their prosthetic limb, and Sole would answer a few to appease her before she realized how insensitive she was being. Piper would then instantly make up for it by apologizing to them, and offering to help them out with anything they may need. More often than not, while they were traveling, she would offer to carry more, would try and take more rest stops, and would offer even more snacks and beverages to Sole along the way. Sole would insist that they're okay, telling her about the fully functioning nature of their prosthetic, but she would still take efforts to help them out more often.

Preston:

     He would start by apologizing to Sole after he found out, but he wouldn’t be sure exactly why he felt the need to apologize. Perhaps because he felt sorry for them, and the injury and rehabilitation they had to live through? Or maybe it was because he felt like he had put too much pressure on them from the start? He had asked them to take down a dozen raiders and a deathclaw on the first day he’d met them, and then offered them the position of general, and all this time they had been helping those in need of their help with two prosthetic legs. They told him briefly that they had been injured before the bombs fell, but he hadn’t realized it had been this extensive. He would be sure to take it a little easier on them, and would be more conscious of their well-being, offering to rest more when they were traveling, and giving what missions he could to other minutemen. Preston wouldn’t pry, but would be ready to listen if Sole ever wanted to tell him more about their injury or their experience living with their prosthetics.

X6-88:

     X6's expression would remain ultimately unchanged as they told him about their two prosthetic hands, but he would marvel at their authenticity. How had he not known that they were prosthetics? The courser would ask if they were fully functional, if only to ensure that the prosthetics wouldn't be a danger to Sole in combat, but once assured that they were, he wouldn't treat Sole any differently. Inside, he would be curious about how Sole had sustained such an injury, but he would never voice it. If they did choose to tell him the whole story, he would simply listen and nod, a little confused as to why they felt the need to share this information with him. Though he didn't know why they told him, he would feel a strange lightness in his chest at the fact that they trusted him enough to share something this personal with him. 

[wackernagels]

Me really leaning into the idea that vicious comprtmentalized/denied his emotions to the point of repression as a coping mechanism for trauma related to the syndicate and syndicate-adjacent tasks/situations etc. like that days of being wild quote ‘starting this minute I have to forget this man’, that headass growing up in the syndicate he had the choice of finishing the job or dying, so he learned to make it a little easier on himself to never be attached, or to at least never keep any attachments that could be a liability, either emotionally/mentally or in an actual it could get him killed sense. That even if he allowed himself moments to enjoy life and I guess just be a person, at the end of the day he still couldn’t let himself to get too close.

I guess spike and Julia were the first exceptions to this. It was probably a risk he was willing to take, since they were both tied to the syndicate and were far more likely to die than get into a position where his orders would conflict with his attachments. I tbh think it’s be reasonable if spike and/or julia had to unlearn similar coping strategies— that in a situation where they could be outside the reaches of the red dragons they could be able to let themselves form deep bonds without the fear that they’ll eventually have to betray them and/or that those people would be used to hurt them.

Tbh I like to think that the war on titan was the One™ time vicious let himself loosen up a little. That the sheer distance between a single person out in the field on a war-torn desert moon, and where the red dragons set up headquarters on mars was far enough that it could’ve felt like the syndicate couldn’t reach him there. That when gren offered his affection vicious might’ve thought it was fine to give some in return and eventually he got far too attached to somebody that could and would be a liability. If vicious knew Julia’s music box had a tracker or if he really did frame gren, it was him experiencing a rude awakening to the fact that he was still tied for he syndicate—that he was on a mission here— that he wasn’t supposed to bond with anybody, and I guess he reacted with the logic that he simply can’t have any dangerous attachments, that he has to destroy them before they can destroy him. And if he didn’t know any of that, he was still chained to the syndicate, and that still meant he had to get rid of anything he felt for gren. Simply just refusing to acknowledge it existed.

The whole thing probably played a hand into how he reacted to spike running away. By that point vicious already made the mistake once of caring too much, but this time it’s with someone he thought it would be safe to let close, even when under the grasp of the red dragons. The fact that spike wanted to run away with Julia probably rubbed salt into the wound— both people that vicious let in were about to become liabilities, not to mention spike had the guts to do something that vicious possibly daydreamed of. So he reacts the same way he did with gren— he can’t leave the clutches of the syndicate so he will instead destroy those potentially dangerous attachments— it’s better to get rid of them, completely burn his bridges than let them run free and potentially harm him in the future.

Vicious represses himself to the point that he appears cruel and ruthless, because after fucking up twice he can’t let himself get close again. At least that’s the vibe I get when he tells Lin he’d have to betray him if he wants to live and basically warns shin the same thing. That I guess he’s learned to keep his distance from anyone he might care about because it’s going to mess him up and he’s learned to destroy them before they have the chance to destroy him. That I guess his attempts to avoid some sort of suffering just ended up making him miserable

[limerental]

Yenralt Valentine's - Day 1

I got a bit enthusiastic for this event hosted by @stuffedunicorns and have 7 little fics ready to go for y'all that I will be publishing each day for the next week. Fair warning that none of them follow the prompts even a little and some have explicit sex.

day 1 - show me all your hiding spots

After Yennefer accidentally mistranslates a fertility rite, she has to submit to the mortifying ordeal of... submitting. To Geralt, who is not at all comfortable with a dominant role. They make it work somehow.

content warning for explicit sex, dubcon (in terms of the nature of the sex, not the sex itself), dom/sub reversal and it's awkward

In the infant days of their strange relationship, it had taken months of Yennefer’s coaxing and prodding in bed to encourage Geralt to make full use of that mutated strength of his. He defaulted to restraining himself, not hesitant to engage in intimacy but still careful, holding her like something he would break or tarnish. Even when he finally caved to her demands for occasional rough treatment, he moped miserably over bruises and nailmarks on Yen's skin, fretting even for her reassurance that she had gotten worse knocking her own shins against furniture in the night.

In time, she had adjusted her expectations.

He did not cower or kneel meekly at her feet as others had in the past, as cocky and witty in bed as he was otherwise, but where she led, he followed, where she pushed him, he stayed. He seemed to take comfort in obedience, giving to her whims, distrusting of her intent but curious all the same.

She had once thought it was something his Path had taught him about the intimacy he could accept, a way of diminishing himself as a threat. Allow his partner to lead and nudge him where they liked and he was less likely to find himself the target of an angry mob. But Yennefer later came to think he simply preferred it. To have the decisions made for him, the means of his pleasure pre-determined. So much of his life involved difficult choices, swift decisions and compromises, so for Geralt, to allow those anxieties to be taken from him with a partner he trusted was a comfort.

Yennefer could not relate to it, her own sexual preferences shaped in the exact opposite direction, but she understood it. The peace he found in surrender.

So the Witcher was not the ideal candidate for what was required here.

read more on ao3

[watchinglikeafangirl]

Light on me Ep 3&4

These two episodes very much convinced me to stay because I wasn't sure last week. But thankfully, we made a lot of progress with the characters and got more of their personalities. I am pretty fascinated by the way this drama plays out. Tae-Gyeong is a very interesting character who can read people like a book apparently. He likes to be honest but at the same time, he just reacts when people tell and ask him stuff. Like he doesn't really care nor mean it but feels the pressure of others watching him and waiting for an answer, so he reacts in some way. Agreeing to things he doesn't want to attend, like the blind date, and then making it awkward because he is awkward. He has the talent to express his emotions on point and his surroundings are either irritated or feel his emotions as well. I, as the audience, feel how his emotions are being projected onto me. And this is pretty fascinating to me and the reason why I will watch until the very end, no matter how the story will turn out, because I'm super impressed by that strategy an how well it works.

A character that fascinates me even more and makes me curious is Da-On. Tae-Gyeong can't read him, so I don't know much as well, but he gives me the vibe of a broken man, or at lest someone who pretends a lot.

He's not his real self at all and that makes me sad, just like Tae-Gyeong. I think Da-On feels the pressure of living up to expectations. He build up this image of being the nice kid who is always there to help out, so the people know what to expect from him, but he changed over the years or simply is not like that. This week, we see his vulnerability. He is annoyed and very stressed out about people coming and contacting him. Even when he doesn't have fun, he pretends he does and stays extremely nice which comes across as pretty creepy. He smiles very very much and you can tell, he just wants to cover up some parts of himself. The motto "What's good is good" sounds toxic for him and it's a pressure he puts on himself. I think that's why he doesn't want to brag about being a top student. That would mean he wouldn't have enough time for others because of studying. He's not proud to hear "he's oficially a nerd" (this is not a quote).

President Sin Da-On smiled, but I'm not sure if being nice to everyone is really a good thing, so I didn't smile back.

I would say, for Tae-Gyeong, Da-On is just a friend. He sees some true colors of Da-On and he knows Da-On rarely opens up, so he worships this newly found friendship, but I don't think he sees more in their relationship than just that. And I am not quite sure, if Da-On really has a crush on Tae-Gyeong. Tae-Gyeong is just what he wishes to be: honest. Showing honesty is tough for Da-On and he would rather live a miserable life than confess his unhappyness. This could maybe origin from his home, we don't know about his parents yet. What I just wanted to say is, I think Da-On and Tae-Gyeong find each other interesting because the other is what each wants to be. Tae-Gyeong wants to be nice to people, so he will make friends, and Da-On wants to be more honest, so he will be able to let everyone knwo his true self. As of right now, Da-On hides his true intentions pretty good, but Tae-Gyeong noticed them when they were on this blind date.

First, Da-On sits next to So Hee.

But after Tae-Gyeong say this:

Da-On does this:

Just so he won't have to sit next to the annoying So Hee. Later, he gets rid of her again. She makes him uncomfortable because she reminds him of all the fakery he is.

Let's get to Shin-Woo who couldn't be more obvious. He likes to tease Tae-Gyeong because he knows Tae-Gyeong won't stop reaching out and try to fix their broken bond.

I really don't like you!

He's just fine with pretending he just doesn't like Tae-Gyeong's persona without a particular reason. This way it's a lot easier for him to handle. He's probably overwhelmed by his feelings as well and still tries to deny them somehow, so he calls Tae-Gyeong "ugly" (he didn't use that word I think). His reaction to Da-On calling Tae-Gyeong "beautiful" was priceless. One (and I mean me) can interpret this into Da-On more or less being Shin-Woo's voice and encouraging him to stop denying his feelings. Yes, Da-On verifies, he himself got some feelings there, so Shin-Woo gets jealous, but that happens later on. Here, it more or less seems like Shin-Woo was caught in a lie which makes him cough because he's shocked. Scared to reveal his feelings out of the fear to chase Tae-Gyeong away, he chose to keep a distance.

Then the incident happens and since Tae-Gyeong helped him and saved him from any more harm without hesitation, he can't just go away. Tae-Gyeong helps Shin-Woo even though he pushes him away. This clearly shows Tae-Gyeong wants to know more about Shin-Woo, but Shin-Woo still doesn't know how to handle this kind of attention. He just turns defensive and shy, sticking to his original plan.

I think I don't have to insert a picture of the phonecall scene here. Everyone knows what I'm talking about. The scene is filled with confusion, awkward silence, a change of minds and something very warm-hearted. It is very nice to see these two being really confused what to do with this new situation they don't dislike but just don't know what it is. And the phonecall ends as random as it started with Shin-Woo panicing and Tae-Gyeong wondering what this nice feeling is.

Did you guys just greet each other?

Since the incident caused some icebreaking between them but they still don't kow how to handle their emotions - especially Shin-Woo - their interactions are funny but nearly hurt. It's very much cringe, but the good one.

I love this show so far. It has interesting and relatable characters. I sometimes feel like Da-On, like I'm just pretending to be nice but then I remind myself, I still give others a lot about myself. It's mostly not the whole me, but everyone gets parts of it, so me being nice is never really fake. So yeah, you know, I can relate to him in that matter.

[rawsanma]

In Memoriam of "Shin Evangelion: Curse"

*The following article contains a full spoiler for "Evangelion 3.0+1.0".*

I sat together with a person who was not in birth when EOE was released, and after watching the film we talked a bit and thought about the people who passed away without ever seeing this. I understand that fans from the old series and those who came from the new series may have very different perceptions of Shin-Eva. So I'd like to first correct a few things I said in my first impressions.

It may be somewhere between an honorable movie and a mediocre movie in general, but as Evangelion, it's garbage.

After about halfway through the two hours and thirty-five minutes, I started to look at my watch again and again. The double ending, which is both a personal novel and a product, was a fleeting fantasy, and the two songs "One Last Kiss" and "beautiful world (da capo ver.)" were not used effectively in relation to the story, only being played in the staff roll.

When I saw the first 10 minutes of the movie that was released last year, I thought that perhaps Paris was chosen as the setting for the story of "humanity fighting together in the face of destruction" or "the expansion of the Eva world (not G Gundam, but G Eva!)", but that was not the case at all. He just wanted to depict the battle using the Eiffel Tower as a FATALITY,　I realized that he hadn't made a single millimeter of progress since when he asked Hayao Miyazaki if I could film only this action scene of Her Highness Kushana in the re-animation of Nausicaa, he was scolded, "That's why you're no good!"

At the beginning of the film, they try to carefully describe the things behind the scenes that were not told in Eva Q.  The third Ayanami like the TV version is the main character, and they go on and on about living in the countryside, copying "My Neighbor Totoro". The large family of our parent's home that we go back to during the summer vacation is presented as an image of happiness in life and a decent human being. It is also connected to Gendou's narrative during the Human Instrumentality Project but isn't it too Showa-era and too simple a solution? I am interested in how the young fans who are children of nuclear families who left their large families in the countryside and moved to the city saw the too sudden depiction of "life in the countryside". It was almost a gag to see Ayanami walking around in a plug suit which is a sexual orientation that has manifested itself after Space Battleship Yamato, in the images of pre and post-war farming villages depicted by recent NHK morning dramas. The director, influenced by his wife, must have been immersed in the LOHAS and vegan lifestyle as a fashion statement, which is only possible because he is an urbanite with too much stuff and too much money. As for this theme, it has already been presented in the watermelon field scene in the second film, and it is merely a re-presentation of the same theme in a diluted form.

I've pointed out before that Eva Q is "a crack in reality because of the loss of reality to rely on. "It's rude not to eat what you're served!", Shinji was scolded by Touji's father, who looked like a subversion of Hayao Miyazaki's work (Gedo Senki!). I have a simple question, how can the interior of a house become so old and wretched after only 14 years? How can a community of people of all ages be formed in just 14 years?　There was a line that implied that Touji had killed someone for the village, and it is possible that the director had extremely beautified the "Showa era" as a sanctuary where people who are hurt and regret their committing murder during the war as a soldier live nearby, and when he opened the last drawer after using up all the materials, he found the image of the original landscape of his childhood.

Misato and Kaji's child, which is only described for a few minutes, is also abrupt, and I don't feel that it is more than a plot device for the purpose of staging the reconciliation with Shinji later on. Some people seem to be moved by the fact that "behind Misato's cold attitude towards Shinji in Q, there was such a conflict in her mind," but it's the opposite. All the answers are just excuses after wasting nine years of work. Even if the wounds healed and treated with a gentle "I'm sorry," after being beaten severely by a raging DV husband, the fact of the beating would not disappear, and the wife would feel nothing but fear at the sudden change in her husband. To a situation that he had set to minus 100, he spent 2 hours and 35 minutes gradually pouring water drawn from other places and past works to bring it back to zero...I've never seen such a horrible match pump. Well, now that I'm writing this, I'm thinking that I've seen this before.

The relationship between Eva Q and Shin Eva is very similar to the relationship between "The Last Jedi" and "The rise of Skywalker" in Star Wars. In a self-absorbed rampage of conjecture that did not listen to the opinions of others, the historical stage of the series that had been built up was turned into a mess, and then the destroyed story was carefully built up again from the ground using unnecessary length, and only the shape of the story was created to end it without being disgraceful, and every scene that tries to make things more exciting is a copy of past work. As for Star Wars, since 8 and 9 were directed by different directors, I was able to settle my feelings of resentment towards Ryan and gratitude towards Abrams, respectively, but as for Evangelion, the director looks like a child who has been proud to clean up his own mess and have his female cronies praise and pat him on the head. Moreover, what kind of sympathy do you expect when you are told to "I'll make amends" for the mere act of wiping your ass after defecating, in a cool, Showa-era chivalrous tone?

In this film, as a recovery from Q and a summary of new Eva, there are elements throughout the story that critics can easily relate to the old Eva. “Oh, I can talk about this in connection with that!” This is what gives them a good impression and it has nothing to do with how the old fans perceive it. The director seems to have a dedicated person in charge of communicating and negotiating with the outside, but now he wants the critics to communicate with the fans about Shin-Eva. As long as he doesn't speak for himself, he can correct their interpretations later based on the "misunderstandings" of the people in between himself and his fans. This is a very Japanese-style system of surmising feelings, a system of authority that is formed when only a limited number of cronies are informed of the true intentions of the president. If I talk about it in too much detail, right-winged Yakuza will show up very soon, so to make it short, it is an indigenous control structure unique to Japan that originated from the "Mikado behind the bamboo blind". This time the director was very conscious of that, and I was able to see that Eva, who was a challenger, has become an authority that does not tolerate any criticism.

And what fan from the past could enjoy watching the endless battle scenes after Shinji returns to Wunder in the middle of the film? One after another, the sister ships of Wunder appear--there's almost no difference in appearance, but Ritsuko is able to guess their names the moment they appear. Right after the line "I'm pretty sure there's a fourth ship," the fourth ship comes crashing upon them from underneath, with no intention other than to make us laugh, right? As well as the repeated tenseless bombardment fight with no description of damage no matter how many artillery shells are hit, and it's quite painful being poured Asuka and Mari's Me-Strong Battles which are already enough by the time of Q, continuously down my throat like a goose with a funnel in its mouth. There's no way to synchronize my feelings with the screen, and it just creates an atmosphere as if the story is going on with the unattractive super-robot action that I pointed out in Q. It's no use pointing out, but the repair and supply problems of Wille side in a world where the industry has been destroyed were shown in the farming village part, though it was inadequate. But those of NERV side, an organization of only a man and an old man, was completely thrown away.

The last part of the story about the Human Instrumentality Project is like a fanzine where Gendou, Asuka, Kaworu, and Rei are lined up in a row and complemented in turn and then dismissed, whereas EOE was a total complement through Shinji. The director has tried to upgrade his framework by borrowing them from EOE and has failed miserably. Someone who has created works by putting his emotion and flair into a copy has dabbled in copying his own work. As a result, he had to confront his own sensibilities from when he was young and had to compare the old and the new by his old audience. Frankly speaking, only the techniques have been traced, the sound and the screen have become gorgeous, but the emotion and the sense have deteriorated. The face of the giant Ayanami that was replaced with a live-action one -- probably based on the face acting of Shinji's voice actor, and the "untested ordeal" of her tweet means this -- appears in the background like a gold folding screen in the high sand at a Japanese wedding reception. You're getting tired of all this, and you're not making it seriously, are you? The battle between Eva Unit01 and Eva Unit13 in Tokyo-III, which I expressed my anxiety about before the film's release, is a scene where the company's CG team can't produce what the director expects and he is so frustrated that he has the same mindset as in the final two episodes of the TV version, "I'd rather get a minus than a red", and after that, it became like a gag scene, including Eva fights in Misato's apartment and Shinji's school classroom, as if he was staged them in desperation. The side-shooting screenshot of the little Wunder charging at the head of the giant Ayanami is a picture of ”Cho Aniki (Japanese STG)” itself, and it's also meant to be funny, right? It's a series of loose, sloppy, and tenseless scenes that can't be compared to EOE.

What the hell have the CG team been doing for the past nine years, getting paid with no progress and making Eva look like an outdated piece of crap? Didn't anyone have the chivalrous spirit of the Showa era like "Don't embarrass our boss!"? Don't be so relieved when you get the green light! The director has just given up on you! There were a few scenes where the person at the top of the editing and collage, who has been making the coolest pictures, was not given as much good material as he used to be and seemed to make desperate staging in a way that he would never have given the green light in the past. It's been more than 10 years since Xapa was established, but I guess they don't have enough talent to meet the director's vision. Perhaps because of this, the conclusion of the film is exactly the same as the old one, that the director has no choice but to use his personal feelings to finish Eva, but the film ends up being a self-imitation of "Sincerely Yours". It is sad to see a person who "surpasses the original by putting his heart and soul into the copy" start to copy his own past works on the big screen of the theater, because he has become a big name in the animation world after reaching the age of 60, and there are no others left to be copied. However, right after "Komm, süsser Tod" started playing in the old movie, the scene where the titles of each episode and the reverse side of Cels were played in succession was projected on the wall of the studio using a projector -- the title of the new movie was added.  It made me mad and thought, "Don't touch my EOE with the dirty hands of the merchant.  I'll kill you."

The last things that the man who "transfers his own life onto films" presented in his costly self-published private novel were a naked confession of his own mental history up to the point where he met his wife, which he temporarily entrusted to Gendou, and the words "I think I loved you" and "I loved you" exchanged between himself and the former lover who could not be together and themselves who had separate spouses, just a reckoning of the muddled love affair that existed behind the scenes of EOE. I half-jokingly said that the distance between the director and Asuka's voice actor was important for the end of Eva, but it turned out to be true in a different way. During the recording session, Asuka's voice actor was told by the director, "I'm glad Miyamura is Asuka," which sent chills down my spine as it conveyed the horror of a creator who doesn't hide everything about his life and relationships and uses them to create his works.

In the scene where Shinji says "I liked you too" to the adult Asuka, who is wearing a tight latex suit and drawn in a more realistic character design (making us aware of the cosplay by Asuka's voice actor), while she is lying on the EOE beach, I thought "You guys should do this in a coffee shop or something between recording sessions! Don't make us watch middle-aged man and woman having unpleasant conversations on the big screen of the theater!", I almost screamed out. I think that's the scary part, the director's one-sided love for Asuka's voice actor is falsified by having the character say that she liked him, as if it was a mutual love. The director's statement at the beginning of the pamphlet says that he started working on the sequel right after Evangelion 2.0 without hesitation, using the worldview of "Q". I'm not trying to quote the line "You can change the reality you don't like by getting on Eva.", but it's not as if he's trying to cover up the fact, but he really believes that using his strong imagery, and it made me feel a bit chilly that there was no one around to correct his misconceptions.

At the end of Human Instrumentality Project, I wondered if the fact that a senior member of the movie industry had praised the shooting of EOE by flipping Cels over as a "tremendous deconstruction" was still fresh in his mind. This time, too, it was postponed after postponement, and even though the makings have been done in time, he showed the other side of the production with line drawings and roughs. The reason it was so innovative was that it was the first time anyone had tried it then, and now, 25 years later, it's just a rut. It's disgusting that everyone is praising the master's strange drawing habit and saying, "Oh yeah, that's it, that's it." As I've said before, it's like "defecating in a sixty-nine," which was successful because the first partner happened to be a scatologist. The expression of EOE was sharp and ”Rock’n’‐roll”, but Shin-Eva's "fun of anime images" has gone into the realm of traditional art, like slow "Gagaku".

The director hadn't decided who Mari Makinami was for a long time -- he was so indifferent to her that he threw the actor's acting plan to a sub-director -- but with Shin-Eva, he's changed her into an equal to Moyoco Anno, his wife. In other words, the flashy battle in the middle of the film, which is unimportant to many viewers, is revealed to have been a very pleasant pretend play for the director, in which he has his former love and his current wife fight on his favorite robots. Once again, we are shown the director's so-what-attitude, which has not progressed even a millimeter since "I'm an asshole," and which he can complete his work only by masturbation. So it's no wonder that they couldn't depict the extremely simple catharsis of Shinji's great success with Eva Unit01, which is what most of the old fans want. Because a robot with a pathetic old man on board can't get an erection due to impotence, let alone masturbation!　Oops, excuse me, sir.

And as I said before, it's time to realize that the English language has become so popular in Japan that it's become lame. You use Infinity, Another, Additional, Advanced, Commodity, and Imaginary, just because it sounds cool to you, right?　Everyone criticized the naming "Final Impact", but I never thought I'd see the time when I'd faint from the lack of taste and coolness in Evangelion, such as Another Impact, Additional Impact.

And the ending, with the wedding report in a live-action aerial shot of the director's hometown, newbie fans are screaming that it is like, "They're doing a very positive version of the old "Return to Reality!". But I felt it was too empty and cynical because it was intended to be read that way by the director. It depicts only the elation of marriage, and the pain of getting along with a partner and his or her family with different values is cut off (well, maybe Q was expressing the hardship of married life......). But isn't the emotional weight of a marriage report much higher when you meet your partner's parents?　The fact that he ended the movie by showing his own hometown instead of his wife's hometown leaves me with the impression that he's definitively an egotistical geek through and through. "You may have graduated from a good university and are making good money in the city, but if you're not married and don't have children, aren't you somehow humanly flawed?" After 25 years, Evangelion, which was such a forward-thinking Sci-Fi, is now completely in sync with the earthly ethics of Showa-era's farmers and farm horses. "I got married and it saved my life. I don't know about you, but why don't you try?" You can think what you want, but if you want to convey it as a message of salvation, you have to express it in the content of your work, not in your own talk.

I've been married for 20 years, I have two children, both of whom are about to reach the age of adulthood, I've paid off the mortgage on my home, and I'm finally at the end of raising my children, but all of that is just an outer shell of a social skin that has nothing to do with my true nature or where my soul is! There's no connection between what kind of life an individual lives in the real world and the Sci-Fi sense of wonder, in fact, there shouldn't be any connection! If you're a science fiction fan, take a page from the great Arthur C. Clarke! I was a nerd with a negative value of 100, but when I got married, I gradually poured the "common-sense values" of the Showa era into myself, and now I'm a true man with no negative value? Don't write such pathetic fiction proudly! Listen, what you presented to the audience at the end was the same thing that someone would say to you, "You seedless stallion!" It's the same kind of unethical and vulgar message that you shouldn't be giving! The old Eva became a classic of Japanimation, and no one was able to properly scold you, or you keep away those who tried, and the result of this is directly reflected in the ending of Shin Eva!　You've reached your 60th birthday and you only have such poor social common sense, damn it!

I'm sorry, I was so excited that I lost my control a little bit, just a little bit. I think the director is relying a little too much on his wife, who is ultimately a stranger on, to be his laison d'etre (lol). If they were to break up in the future, it would certainly be the soil for the next Eva, the content and development of which is completely predictable, but that is no longer my concern. I wonder if his wife doesn't like the fact that he's mentally dependent on her like this, and that it's being shown on screens all over the country. If it were me, I'd be furious, but since she's a creator, I guess she understands how he feels. Ignoring the other person's feelings and continuing to force what he believes to be love on her, thinking that it will make her happy, seems to me that there has been no progress at all since the way he treated his girlfriend 25 years ago. The person I want to hear from the most right now is not the self-proclaimed Eva fans who are looking at each other from the side and giving positive feedback in celebration of the final episode, but his wife. If the director had a child, he would not have been able to distinguish between his own ego and that of the child, and would have doted on his child, making a documentary film about his or her growth, but would most likely have turned into a controlling and poisonous parent in his or her adolescence. And he animated his feelings for his child who was rebelling against him, without the child's permission, considering it as a one-sided redemption for the child, and the child who was exposed to the whole country about their home life would have distanced from his father more and more.

In the end, Evangelion did not become a product like Gundam, but rather a robot animation that was the director's weird personal novel. The repeated use of the word "job" in the film has stuck in my mind, but in order for the studio to survive, it had to make Evangelion a product in this new series, and I'm sure that was the initial motivation behind the production of these new films. Your real "job" was to make Evangelion the same as Gundam, to protect the people who came to you because they loved Evangelion. Years from now, I can see a future where Xapa will be like Ghibli, behead the staff and continue as a copyright management company. The director, who didn't want to be embarrassed as a creator by a new challenge adopted the safe way -- I can't believe that I have to use the word "safe" for Evangelion -- to end the new series that relied on EOE only for himself, not for the future of the people who came to admire him. That's what Shin Evangelion is all about.

The good part? The fact that he didn't bring Shin Ultraman trailer at the end of the film makes me think he has grown up a bit. If you're declaring "Farewell, All Evangelions" with the intention of hurting, disappointing, and disinterested old fans like me, then your malice is unfathomable, and that's quite a feat. Brilliantly, your intentions have permanently killed a part of me that used to be an Eva fan.

As horrifying as it is to imagine, it must have crossed the director's mind to reschedule the film and set a new release date for March 11. The only reason he didn't do so is not that he has grown up to be a sensible adult, but rather because the idea of linking Evangelion 3.0 with the Great East Japan Earthquake was a fact that is too painful for him to make it public.

Ten years ago today, many lives were lost and Evangelion was destroyed.

This fact will never disappear, no matter how much the director denies and covers up with the "true" history. If there is any mission left for me as a fan, it is to continue to pass on this fact to future generations as a storyteller. It is a huge loss for Japanese fiction that the end of the great Evangelion has become a self-recovery work of the great failure of the reboot affected by the Great East Japan Earthquake, and that the potential of the great Evangelion has been consumed by the self-defense of someone who cannot admit his own mistakes, and I sincerely regret it. Shin Evangelion will be forever cursed by the dead, who yearn to see the sequel of Evangelion 2.0, and the living, who yearn to see the sequel of Evangelion 2.0.

This curse will be completed when it spreads, arrives, and is burned by the powers that be as a false history. I pray that my thoughts will reach him!