#it adds the ambiguity

[tsukikoayanosuke]

Will You Be Okay in the Next Ten Years? - Ruikasa Week 2004

Day 6: Invention

(Inspired by Katekyo Hitman Reborn but no knowledge of said show is needed)

It was a sunny lunch break when Nene asked the question: “Have you ever wondered about the future?”

Emu, who was lying on her stomach, held her cheeks in her palm and elbow on the floor. Her legs swung back and forth as she asked back,  “Huee? The future?”

“Once we graduate from the academy,” Nene said again. “What do you want do you want to do?”

Tsukasa let out a chuckle. “Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it?” He struck a pose. “I WILL BE THE WORLD GREATEST HERO!”

“That’ll be so cool!” Emu leaped into a sitting position, eyes gleaming in excitement. “You’ll go in a Gundam and whoosh whoosh BOOM! Save the world!”

Tsukasa laughed loudly. “Exactly! To be heroes and protect everyone’s smile.” He grinned widely at the group surrounding him. “Isn’t that what Wonderland x Showtime does?” Emu followed his cheer while Rui and Nene just smiled. Tsukasa knew they could change the world; he believed in them.

It had been a year since Wonderland x Showtime was formed. All of them are students at Mikudemy Institute, a military academy in this age of advanced technology with giant robots as the main weapon. Both Tsukasa and Emu are pilots while Rui and Nene are scientist/maintenance. They had a bump in their first mission which nearly cost their early disbandment. But they worked it out and became stronger than ever.

“How about we take a peak into the future?” Rui suggested. “I’m also curious about what would happen.”

“You can do that?” Tsukasa asked, already feeling excited.

Rui chuckled. “I’m sure I can manage. Huh… Maybe I can…” He went off into his usual mumble, slipping into his own unique thinking space.

Nene let out an amused sigh. “There he goes again…”

“Let’s leave it to Rui!” Emu cheered.

Tsukasa couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Rui. His brilliant scientist will no doubt impress them once again, no matter how big or small in invention is. Tsukasa couldn’t imagine a world where he and Rui would never be together again, especially after that first fight. They said a lot of hurtful things to each other, but they managed to sort them out. If anything, they became much closer than before and Tsukasa wouldn’t trade it with anything.

*****

“TA-DAA! The Ten-Year Bazooka is done!”

“The what?!”

Rui, as he promised, came back three days later with a giant purple bazooka. They might be in a military school, but Tsukasa was sure that didn’t mean Rui could carry around a weapon without a license. 

“In theory, it can allow you to swap places with your future self,” Rui explained. “Like a time machine, but without the whole ‘two versions of you at the same time’ paradox.”

“Why ten years though?” Nene asked, still in disbelief.

“Well, the world of next week probably won't change that much, so why not far into the future?” Rui said. “And if it works, then maybe we can make a proper time machine.” 

“You haven’t tested it?!” Tsukasa shouted.

“That’s so cool!” Emu cheered. “I want to go! I want to go!”

“Hold on, Emu.” Tsukasa put a hand on her shoulder, stopping her from bouncing. “I’ll test it, just to make sure it’s safe.”

“Are you sure?” Rui asked. “The future is unpredictable.”

Tsukasa nodded determined. “I believe in you!” He took a deep breath and stretched his arms, “Hit me!”

Rui gave him a thankful smile and threw the bazooka at him. Almost automatically, it extended its mouth to swallow him whole. Tsukasa could hear a click and pink smoke covered his vision, causing him to cough. When the smoke subsided though, Tsukasa could finally see his surroundings.

He was in a room with white walls, ceiling, and floor. While the floor is clean, except for some trinkets here and there, the walls are covered with papers on every surface he could reach; printed articles with bold headlines, graphs and diagrams some crossed with a red marker, a pinboard with few photographs, sketches of what he could guess a human mecha armor (that Tsukasa remember is currently underdevelopment in his times). He was sitting on a bed whose sheet probably hadn’t been washed for the longest time. Beside it, there was an unrecognizable humming machine beside him and cables seemingly once stuck on something but were forcefully taken off. Beside where his head was supposed to be, there was a single worn-out platypus plushie that suspiciously looked like something Tsukasa sewed back then for Rui’s birthday.

There’s no way this is his room right? If Rui said that the bazooka was supposed to make him swap places with his version of ten years later, does that mean he’s going to be a slob?!

The metal door was suddenly opened, the light from outside hitting Tsukasa right on the eyes, making him cover his face with his hand. There was a breathy “What…” followed by the sound of shattered glass. 

There, standing by the doorway, was a man in their mid-twenties. Unkept purple hair with two cyan streaks tied in a sloppy low ponytail. His wrinkled lab coat hung on his skinny frame. Bags under his no-longer twinkling yellow eyes as if he hadn’t slept for years, but now those same eyes stared at Tsukasa with shock.

“Rui…?”

The man, ten-year-later Rui, crumbled. He sprinted to the bed and pulled Tsukasa into a hug so tight that Tsukasa could feel Rui’s ribcage.

“Tsukasa… Tsakasa…” Rui’s voice was hoarse, as if he hadn’t used it for a very long time (but why? Rui is always the lovable rambly one), yet filled with heavy emotions. He cradled his head, pressing kisses on his neck that made Tsukasa blush.

“R-Rui…?” Tsukasa tried to shift his position but Rui tightened his hug.

“Please…” he whispered tearfully. He was trembling. “Give me a moment…”

Tsukasa hummed, unable to deny Rui’s request. He brought his hand onto Rui’s hair, caressing him. Rui let out a whimper. Tsukasa didn’t have the heart to pull away.

It took a while but Rui finally let go of his hug. He cupped Tsukasa’s cheeks and Tsukasa could finally see how weary the man in front of him was. Has ten years really taken a toll on him?

“You look so young…” Rui whispered, his thumb caressing his cheeks. “How?”

Tsukasa gulped. “I’m not… I’m not your Tsukasa.”

Rui paused. “Not mine?”

“I’m from ten years ago. You- I mean, my Rui, made a Ten-Year Bazooka just for fun. So, we can, you know, take a glimpse for a few minutes.”

Rui’s eyes widened slightly before they softened. “Are you… Are you close with your Rui?”

“Aren’t we?” Tsukasa asked back, not really grasping between the words. “You’re still in Wonderland x Showtime, aren’t you?” 

Rui didn’t answer but Tsukasa could see a flicker in his eyes. A brief glimpse of melancholy. “What happened?”

Rui let out a huff, the closest thing Tsukasa took as a laugh. “Stuff happened. Your Rui accepted your apology, didn’t he?”

“Yeah… Didn’t you?”

Rui sighed through his nose. He leaned down, pressing his forehead onto Tsukasa’s in the gentlest cradle as if he would shatter. “You can make a different future. A future where everything will be okay. Where you can be safe.”

“But I have you. Why wouldn’t I be safe?”

“I made a stupid mistake.”

“Don’t blame yourself.” Tsukasa reached for Rui’s hand and leaned against his touch. “I’m sure my future self wouldn’t want that either.”

Rui’s eyes teared up from that and he gave a small nod. “He wouldn’t… He never would…” He pulled Tsukasa into another hug and Tsukasa could feel his shoulder getting wet. “I miss you… I promise I will fix this.”

“What happened?” He had to ask the same question, but like before, Rui never answered him instead he shook his head.

“The future is not set in stone. This timeline is nothing you need to worry about. You’re gonna be fine. You have to…”

Tsukasa didn’t have time to question again for his five minutes was almost up. His skin started to turn smokey as he stared at Rui in panic. “What’s happening?”

Rui must’ve felt it too because he pulled back, his eyes tearing up again. “Looks like it’s time for you to go home.”

“What will happen to you?”

Rui quickly grasped his shoulder, grounding him for the last few seconds. “I’ll stay here. I have so much work to do.” He shook him slightly. “Please promise me something.”

Tsukasa nodded. “Anything.”

“I know I can’t stop you from being a hero, but please, stay safe. Trust in others. Let them help you. Despite what you believe, you are not alone. If my feelings stay the same in your time, then come to me, I’ll do anything to help you.”

That was a big request but Tsukasa was never one to deny a promise. “Okay.”

Rui smiled. He leaned down for the last time to kiss him on the forehead. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry for everything… I love you… You’ll always going to be a star…”

Tsukasa puffed into the same pink smoke. When it slowly disappeared, he was back in the past, and the first thing he was the devastated faces of his comrades.

“Guys-”

“TSUKASA!” Emu immediately hugged him so tight that he thought his ribs cracked. She was sobbing loudly. “YOU’RE BACK!”

“Tsukasa, are you alright?!” Nene was never the one to lose his emotions, but Tsukasa could hear the desperate relief in her voice. She went down on her knees and clutched his shoulders.

“I-I’m fine.” Tsukasa returned Emu’s hug gently, causing her to cry even more. “Did you meet my future self?”

Nene froze. “We did…”

“How was he like?” None of them answered. “Guys?”

“You don’t have to worry about it.” Rui crouched down beside him as well and pulled the both of them close and Nene followed in. “I’m glad you’re back…”

They hugged him tight as if they were worried that he would switch places with his future self again. 

Tsukasa would never know about what the rest of Wonderland x Showtime had seen. Rui never told him about the state of his body ten years later: broken beyond repair but someone has been desperate to put him back with machinery. But ever since then, Rui had become more protective of him. Something changed in him.

He might’ve used the bazooka a couple of times after that, trying to look for clues of that bleak future from the news headlines: ‘Five years commemoration of the death of Emu Otori…’, ‘The peace treaty has been broken between Japan…’, ‘The Otori Cooperation will never be the same!’, ‘Scientists suggest of an approaching meteor…’, ‘The search for Pegasus’ body continues...’

Tsukasa could see it in Rui’s eyes: fearful yet determined. The future is not set in stone, so Rui swore they would never get to that future where the scientist Rui cradled what is left of hero Tsukasa in the crater that was his grave.

[alienssstufff]

Updated the way I drew Scar

[cradle-of-darkness]

What have you done?

based on an idea @username8746489 had where sylvie discovered nightmare fuel for the first time on accident while getting bullied by some older kids (and pushing him further into social isolation now that he's known as "that scary kid who could summon someone's worst fear")

[mxtxfanatic]

While flipping through mdzs to verify some stray thoughts of mine, I happened to fall into a translation discrepancy that I feel really, really emphasizes how important it is to have a proper grasp on the language you are translating before translating for a public audience.

Now before we get too deep into this, I want to reiterate that I am someone who does not understand Mandarin in any form but has been reading translations (both by humans and machines) for a few years now. However, because I have been reading translations that tend to follow the Mandarin more closely in grammar and because I haven't shied away from reading machine-made or bad human translations, I have noticed some places where mistranslations from Mandarin to English are common: pronouns, verb-subject matching, negatives, prepositions, and conjunctions. For this post, we will be focusing on the latter two.

In the lead-up to the Wen invasion of Lotus Pier, we are given a scene where Madam Yu whips Wei Wuxian, and in this scene, we are given a glimpse as to Madam Yu's average punishments towards the young ward.

While Madam Yu always pelted him with hostile words, she’d never really hit him hard before—two or three lashes at most, or being made to kneel or confined indoors, and it never took Jiang Fengmian long to release him from that.

—Vol. 3, Chapt. 12: Sandu: The Three Poisons, 7seas

In the past, although Madam Yu had always come at him with harsh words, she had never truly been cruel to him. The most that he’d been through were two or three strikes and being grounded. He’d also be let out by Jiang FengMian soon later.

—Chapt. 57: Poisons, exr

Reading these back-to-back, it should be very clear that though the same section is being translated from the same exact source, these translations do not say the same thing. The official stresses that Madam Yu had never hit Wei Wuxian "that hard" before, as well as saying that his punishments were a few lashes OR being made to kneel OR being confined, three separate punishments never taken together according to this diction. The exr translation, however, states that Madam Yu had "never truly been cruel to him" (emphasis mine) and that him being whipped was in addition to being confined. The emphasis on the strength of her lashings is absent, but an emphasis on the intent behind her actions—that she never meant to be honestly cruel to her ward—is established in its stead. (While this section as translated by exr does not mention kneeling, later scenes reflecting on Wei Wuxian's childhood in Lotus Pier do.)

Both of these translations... are wrong.

If we give exr the benefit of the doubt by virtue of being the original completed English translation of mdzs, then the official 7seas release should automatically raise red flags for the ways it seems to directly contradict the narrative that has existed for a few years before the novel was licensed. It doesn't help that the official has been riddled with many mistranslations and omissions from the very first volume, lowering any credibility it would otherwise have to stand on. But if we were to examine the rest of the exr translation, then the emphasis on Madam Yu's intent also rings false given the fact that we are told over and over again in this same translation that 1) Madam Yu is, in fact, unnecessarily, illogically, and erratically mean-spirited and cruel, and 2) Wei Wuxian knows this even at this time in his life (shoutout to the Lotus Pod Seeds extra) and understands her actions as targeted cruelty. What does the actual text say, then?

Although Madam Yu always spoke ill of him before, her hand had never been this viciously cruel. At most, she whipped him two or three times and ordered him to kneel down and be confined to his room, and he would be released by Jiang Fengmian sometime later.

—@jiangwanyinscatmom (emphasis mine)

Madam Yu has never been "as cruel" as in that moment when whipping Wei Wuxian, because normally she only whips him 2-3 times. She would whip him a few times and send him to the ancestral hall to kneel and be in confinement, which matches up to the memories that Wei Wuxian reflects on in other parts of the novel. This translation gets rid of the character inconsistencies that the other two translations create. So how did we get here? Remember how I pointed out those common Mandarin-to-English translation mistakes? Well, both the exr and 7seas translations fall into the trap of confusing conjunctions and prepositions. That's how we get a list of punishments rather than an order of events for a singular punishment type. That's how we get "not truly cruel" instead of "not as cruel." That's how we get these sections contradicting what we know about Madam Yu's personality and behavior from the rest of the novel through those two translations. Unfortunately, both translation teams just happened to flub in the same area in slightly different ways, and while I'm willing to give a multi-lingual grade-school student translating in their spare time the benefit of the doubt, a paid translator with a translation team hired by a professional publishing house should have better quality control than a spare-time hobbyist.

Also, just in case anyone wants more proof on what mxtx meant for us to take away about Madam Yu's treatment of Wei Wuxian from this scene, it was also apparently so important to mxtx for readers to know that Madam Yu was truly cruel to Wei Wuxian during his childhood that the act of her routinely whipping him whenever he was in her presence was something that was added into the revised mdzs. It was not in the original unedited version of the novel.

In the past, although Lady Yu always insulted or patronized him, she never laid a hand on him. At worst, she’d make him kneel for prolonged periods of time, but he’d always get bailed out by Jiang FengMian after a while.

—Chapt. 57. Act 12: Sandu/Three Poisons, Part 2, qinghe-nie

[bebrave-live]

Love the flavor of soulmates that is a main m/f partnership dynamic that's mostly platonic but also romantic but also dysfunctional and yet completely essential - like these characters would not work without each other, but they barely work with each other, and most importantly they know each other carnally better than anyone else, but it's also not about sex at all it's about the partnership and navigating the highs and lows of intimacy and letting someone in, but also maybe they do fuck, but also maybe don't, but also...

[corvusuwak]

can we talk about how mari had holes in her hand almost like nail puncture marks can we talk about how she was strung up by people she trusted can we talk about how she created a feast for her friends out of nothing can we talk about how she gave them her body and her blood can we talk about

[fromtheseventhhell]

I can tell I'm Arya-pilled to the max because I'll see other Arya stans talking about the questionable morality of her executing Daeron and I'm just like "That was so Lady of Winterfell-coded"

[flashhwing]

critical role's canon ship lineup going from

m/f + m/f + m/f

to

m/f + f/f + m/m

to

f/f + m/m + f&nb

is pretty iconic of them actually. slowly getting more and more undeniably queer over time

[lordgeneralsix]

local guy claims intellectual superiority by declaring people who criticise veilguard just haven't played long enough and don't really know what bad writing is. it must be very peaceful to have such an empty head.

[leafatlaw]

flowerhusbands… to me… is just, “I’ll wait for you forever”. And Scott does no matter where when or anything Scott’s always there waiting patiently for Jimmy. Empires rats limited life, it’s always going to be them meeting, and it’s always going to be them not working out.

Ranchers to me is “I’ll go to hell with you. I’ll go to heaven with you, I’ll go anywhere with you.” They’d go anywhere together holding hands and laughing. I doubt they’d notice where they’re going, I think they’re lost.

desert duo to me is “I’ll follow you to hell and back but I swear the next time you go to hell I’m leaving you there”. Grian will never leave him. They are tied together.

[pioussoup]

Bababooey

Sketched my megop fankid-thats-actually-my-own-OC-but-TF-and-megoped because it would take an act of god to make an entirely new character

My child btw:

[lanternlightss]

dewdrop leaves

> this was written for day 3: immortality/corruption! and of course i could not pass up the opportunity to write a corrupted venti, and bard’s reaction to it <3

Though Venti does not necessarily feel the sensations such as “warmth” or “cold,” the sheer thickness of Dragonspine’s chill tries its hardest to threaten that motion. It clings to him, weaving around and through the fabrics of his clothing, wrapping his limbs. Frost dapples at the tip of his nose, extending to his cheeks. It coats his clothing, too, the material starting to crinkle, turn firmer, and rigid.

(During his flight to here, his hat had been tossed off, and his cape’s bow had been torn unevenly….. how he quite liked those….)

When he lands, sprawled out onto all fours, sinking into the snow and feeling how it gives in, the beginnings of ice fall from him in clumps, sloughing. He extends his wings, fluttering them, and watches as even more are flicked off from the action.

Going to stand, a sharp pain pulls at his chest, seeming to bounce off of the space where a rib-cage would be, before it spreads throughout the rest of him, pinpricks of blazing flares. He doubles over from it, his forehead and bangs pressing into sparkly white (his braids choosing to sprawl across them instead.)

Making the decision to fully lay his upper half onto the snow, and partly burrow there, wings folding to slide more onto his form, it—for a moment, upon the first touch—feels almost soothing. Rubs at the itchiness lying beneath this imitation flesh, one that strikes and tears and shrieks at him every passing minute that goes by. Each louder, more vicious, than the last.

Venti grimaces.

With a tremble, he pushes himself up, crawling forward to fresher snow—areas where he did not mess with. Raises his hand, watching as the deep blue (nearly a shade close to the night sky, dotted with small magentas) covering his fingers and palm reaches up, up, up, a little past his wrist, in splotches. Racing alongside the blue, is deep, fracturing golden lines and cracks, painted across in random strokes. He flexes his hand, wincing, and noting he has his talons, as well.

(There is a prickle on his back, too, where feathers begin to sprout, beneath the pair of wings he already has out.)

He huffs a breath and continues to stand, shaking off the snow when completely upright. Crouches slightly, one foot forward, stancing for a flight into the sky once more—for as much as he would like to, Venti cannot stay here, it is too close to Mondstadt still, and there is a concerning pressure building within him, one that he fears may blast away everything here.

Wings flap, he leans. Snow then scatters and sprays in various directions, from his take-off.

The corruption worsens as his journey continues—that accursed statue, but its situation was becoming harrowing—sending shocks so severe that it has his wings beating harshly to keep himself righted. Even more terribly is when the ruins of Old Mondstadt come into view, and the extra wings find this the perfect time to sprout in full, snapping out, and colliding against the ones above them.

That has him stumbling into one of the many strong currents dotted around; where he allows them to spin him in a lift, and he dips towards the ground when they let go, upon where he forces his wings to untangle, opening and catching wind. He twists, pivoting, aiming towards the ground, his surroundings a blur—and lands onto a patch in a cloud of dust. Once it has cleared, he remains in his position, sitting on his knees, hands pressed to the sides of them as he leans slightly forward.

(Belatedly, he realizes he has lost his cape, and shoes.)

Venti heaves. The pressure from before is unbearable now. The blue-gold has creeped up his arm, the splotches trailing off in fading dots when it reaches where his archon form’s gloves would end, and he presumes it is the same for his legs—though, he can feel a weight at the back of his head, half-formed, in what could only be a halo. Go and break him down to his more divine forms, why don’t they!!

Bubbling. Too much of it, his grasp on everything fraying, thinning, even as he scrambles in an attempt to keep it locked shut, fingers twisting and flailing—the threads of wind, patches of time, the weather, it slips, becoming fuzzy. A gratitude undercuts it, a vague thankfulness that the ruins have sunken enough to fit the wrath of a thrashing God, a vague thankfulness that Dvalin had been sent away beforehand, before it is overrun by the thoughts—what if this is not enough? Will they fall, to his hands, just as the tyrant had done to them? Will he lose what he has fought to protect, what he has set everything to prevail for?

He cannot lose anyone again—

His imitation heart splinters and spills, the corruption truly sinking in. His vision blurs around the edges, flashes of gold tracing them, his breaths coming out labored..

(He knew, when Dvalin had been corrupted by the Abyss, that he was hurting—if it was to this extent, he wishes he could have soothed away everything.)

Around him, the wind races, becoming erratic, kicking at any surface it can find, zipping across in uneven lines. He leans further, wings curling, and the distant sounds of this place are doused, muffled, becoming white noise—a consistent ringing, overlapping

Underneath his hands and legs, the ground shrivels. The wind grows harsher, rocks being scraped across, propelling into the air and torn asunder, the glowing crystals diminishing to mere crumbles of rock. Both the dirt and grass are dragged from the ground, plucked and ripped. The intensity continues to ramp, the noises becoming overwhelming, ringing in his ears pitching, finding that his hands have raised to grip at hair, that his wings seem to wrap around him completely as he—

As rapidly as it had seemed to start, it feels as though something grabs hold of him and yanks to a halt. Venti gasps, cut hair strands falling around him.

The winds stutter, and the ringing fades. He jerks up, hands still embedded into his hair, and finds that… the place he landed in was not so deserted. Their tree stands, swaying, waving hello.

And, that everything had truly come to a messy standstill; threads of teals dipped in a bleeding mixture of a blue-gold suspended in a whirling vortex, a few parts of the wreckage they had caused gently floating besides in its grasps. The threads are not all the same, some of them cutting in dotted lines as they zoom, some of them having their lines wavering to point it threatens dispersing, some of them are thoroughly solid, some of them are splitting into branches, teal twisting and curling, and—

And—

And…

Blue eyes blink, fluttering as if just awoken.

He rubs a hand at the right one, brows furrowing at his surroundings the more aware he becomes of them. Pure raven-black braids sway, as he swivels his head, and Venti notes with a whirlwind in his mind, that the locks have stray strands flicking out from not only the braids, but the bangs, and hair that frames the face. Windswept. The clothes, as well, are missing the tear in the bottoms of the shorts, the tops of his boots, and his right sleeve. If he were to turn, there would certainly be holes in his cloak, too.

But—if he does not have those, then how is he…?

A gale is thrown into the cliff, repeatedly, tearing apart the ground, as they respond to Venti’s dread.

His eyes widen, then narrow.

No, no, no, no, no. Stop looking at him like that.

Venti hunches into himself, talons clenching and shredding more strands of hair. The gale intensifies, lashing behind him, carving out chunks and causing the ground to rumble in its fury. He bares his teeth—wanting to shriek, to grab at his head and!!!!

Stop looking at him like that!

(Why wouldn't he?

A wind out of control? A wind that slices, destruction in every path? Why would he not back away from it?)

He tilts his head, starting to stand, and his expression shifts at Venti flinching away from his approach, the wind whipping to a higher degree with the flinch. He goes to take a step forward, the grass he steps upon having a simmering, bubbling line of a thread hovering there—and there is a quiet screeching as the threads are forced away, unraveling in spools and flinging out towards the cliffs; it has him jolting away from it, one step taken back, boots hitting the ground and kicking up dust.

His gaze snaps up to Venti’s.

(He has a fleeting thought, a moment where the minuscule inch of himself that the corruption has not touched speaks; that he should fix everything, that this mess has gotten severely out of hand, to fly off deeper into the ruins before he does something truly regretful.

But it is just that—fleeting.

Because at the attempt to follow through with the ideas laid out, the corruption rushes to overtake that last final inch, smothering and snuffing it out without regard. It halts Venti’s hands when he tries to wave them, refusing to let them budge the Bard in front of him, dark blue and gold chaining them to remain where they currently are. You do not truly want that, do you? It whispers, false care and comfort in its voice. You wish for him to stay, so here he will stay.)

That gaze of his shifts once more, briefly scrutinizing, then the ever so slightest of widened eyes, before reaching a blankness. It seems that something has clicked. He tries again, purposefully angling his path to the swirling threads, and Venti grits his teeth as he moves them away, hooking a finger round them and pulling, so that no interactions happen between them and him.

(And, how during this, he sees—for a moment—a glimmer of something magenta across his form.)

And blast it all—

Venti raises himself and situates his legs into a crouch, his wings flaring unraveling from around his form. And bounds.

He crosses the distance between the two of them in seconds. Nose mere centimeters away from his, Venti grits his teeth, watches as the other blinks owlishly at him, as if not expecting to be approached so suddenly, especially not like this, Venti poised in a manner similar to that of a cat pouncing still.

“Keep off from those,” he nearly growls, “Can you not see that they—”

Hands shoot out, to place themselves on his cheeks. Venti falters, words dying in his throat.

“What has happened to you?” He murmurs, gently tipping Venti’s head up, to the side, checking the dark-blue that has climbed up to his face, “Your teal… where has it gone? Have you always had gold?”

He swallows. A twitch goes throughout him, one that does not go unnoticed by him.

And, oh. That was what had clicked.

The words build, his tongue bubbling, bitterness and sweetness coating it. A name he has not said for centuries, a name he has kept clutched close to him, hidden in the palms of his hands, in the place where a heart would be beat.

Venti’s mouth opens, and croaks: “Cecil….?”

He pauses, meeting Venti’s eyes.

“Hello, little bird,” Cecil replies, softness in every feature of his. “Ah—I suppose you would be an angel now, hm? How much you have grown…”

The softness does not last long, his brows knitting as he thinks, a frown replacing that wondrous smile of his. His fingers trace the edges of the colors, outlining them, almost, a silent fury and puzzlement to the actions. “But, my friend—why are these… like veins? Why do you hurt? Did someone else do this to you?”

(I will hurt you, I will hurt you, you need to get away from me—)

“No one. This is my own doing, you see,” he says, offering a reassuring look, “I am not hurting at all.”

And—that is true, if partly. There is no stabbing prodding at him any more, attempting to wrench him towards the ground so he stays there. It aches most certainly, however, the wind underneath his skin thrumming as it races incessantly.

Cecil’s brows scrunch.

He steps forward to pull Venti closer, his right hand falling down to his waist, tracing a tear in his clothing, and… ah. Ah. He revokes everything he had said about snow and their so-called “soothing effects” beforehand, this is so much better than it, he curses them and nearly purrs at the feeling of his friend being a breath away from him, his touch curling into his bare skin so softly, lovingly.

Venti chases it.

All but lunging into him, Venti dives his head into Cecil’s chest, careful of the halo behind his hair—do not want to slam it against him. The rest of his body follows suit, his arms encircling around Cecil’s torso (with his hands carefully closed, knuckles pressing into the fabric of the green vest), knocking their legs together so that he can hook it around one of his dear’s, and his wings complete it all by flaring out to then snake around and envelop them both. Feathers brushing against skin and cloth with every other breath.

(The wind has gone still.)

“Oh,” Cecil gasps, startling at something, “you have six wings? I only saw four… have your limbs been multiplied, too??”

Does he? Venti thinks dazedly. It must have happened when the pain was ramping up, he could not distinguish it under all the other sensations attacking him. He had wondered how far the transformation would go—his most divine form has much more than four wings and a halo.

He does not give Cecil a response. Choosing to nuzzle into his clavicle instead, head going even fuzzier, thoughts narrowing to Safe safe safe, stay stay stay, love love love, here here here.

And—what an idea.

Cecil’s chest expands, as he inhales, exhales. It takes a moment, but he begins to reciprocate, an arm going around Venti’s back, between the middle wings and bottom ones. The other arm lifts to the space above Venti’s shoulders, near his nape, pulling him further into himself. He rubs at those places, in small, circle-like motions, and it has the God wholly melting in his arms.

“Is this alright?” He asks, “Is this helping?”

“Mmmmmhmmmm…..”

Gradually, the threads dissipate, dropping closer to the ground, and having the wreckages they carry collapse against the water around the tree, the dirt and rocks. Twist higher into the air at the end, then wobbling, and falling apart. He watches it all, a steady thrumming sounding in the air the longer he holds onto Venti. For one of them, he tests, to see; what would happen if he nuzzled into Venti’s cheek, patting at his back? The answer: it causes the threads to speed up, swooshing so swiftly, that he hardly has time to blink before the teal is fading.

Eyes wandering, they slide to—

Ah! Cannot have that, can we? Venti blocks his view with his right most top wing, fluttering the appendage to truly catch his attention, making his dear jolt in surprise. See, if Cecil is to stay by Venti’s side, then it should be away from here—the safest spot is the Tower, but he would not like that very much. Perhaps they should cross to the Dandelion Sea?

“Venti?”

“Hmm..?”

Cecil raises his hand up, to tap to the back of his head, his knuckles briefly brushing against the halo. He lets it stay there, for long enough that he can weave strands of hair around his fingers, to light tug at them—a non-serious scolding, for the blocking he did. They drop to rubbing circles on his nape after. “How are you feeling?”

Right, right—conversation happening.

He shuffles backwards, only a few inches, so that his dear is not forced to let go of his grasps—skin still tingling and fizzing with that loveliness. Tilts his head, then, to where Cecil gazes at him, a quiet concern and pure curiosity to his eyes, now.

Another wave of winds zip by them, these ones far lighter, livelier, and peppy than the others from earlier were—however, still the same mix of colors, if slightly more solid, slightly lukewarm in temperature. They swirl around them, teasing at hair and cloth, dancing in chiming sweeps and dives; that of which distracts Cecil for a moment, his hair blowing into his face, a muffled sound of a “wuh” escaping from him when it has strays loosing from the braids he wears. He shakes his head to rid of them, glaring halfheartedly.

A beaming grin tugs at him, at the sight. One that lifts the bottoms of his into soft crescents, slowly revealing how his teeth have grown sharper canines. His pupil—still a lovely teal, though, now captured around blue-gold—shines, constricting to a thin slit, as a glittering gleam dances across his gaze. He hums, unclenching his hands from fists to press the palms of them more firmly into Cecil, scraping the talons across his vest.

“Much better,” he says, a lilting, distorted pitch to it. Extends his right’s hand index finger, while he talks, to prod at his back—tracing a symbol there, one that causes Cecil to minutely shiver from it, unexpecting the action. “Thank you.”

And perhaps it is that, that has Cecil truly understand what has happened; that Venti is really not so much hurt as he is a far, far worse thing, that there is something gripping at him. Or perhaps it is the way he looks upon him, as though he were the sun, a gleeful, thrilled and eager gleam to his gaze. Or perhaps it is the way his wings gradually tighten around his form, not constricting him, yet he suddenly feels the reason they continue to be folded (and twitching, fluttering, so often) is not that Venti just wishes to hold him with everything he has.

Whichever it is, whether it be a combination of all of them, it has him widening his eyes, a near whisper of “Oh,” trailing into the winds. Winds that take the words greedily into their hands, rolling them over—winds that tell him murmurs, almost frantically, a gentle urging in the way the threads crowd further around them both, hushed jingling of bells accompanying it: stay, stay, stay, stay?

Oh.

[project-sekai-facts]

How are we feeling about ensekai’s emu3 translation!!! (I’m mad)

(if you remember the 3 whole posts i made when asahi got de-gayed on EN you'll know i am mad too and that this is probably going to get long)

i don't like to be too cynical but it was so obvious that they were going to change that line, i had a feeling since the event first released on JP and after the incident with Asahi where I went through and tracked down multiple other examples of EN removing queer subtext it became clear to me that in no way shape or form was "emu-chan really loves nene-chan" making it to EN without getting changed. what i didn't expect was them changing Nene's line after Luka's comment, which actually makes this whole situation far worse than many of their other instances of toning down queer subtext.

for anyone who isn't aware of what happened, in chapter 5 of the current Emu event, there's a scene where Nene, Rui and the Virtual Singers are talking about what would cheer Emu up. The vsingers all talk about how much Emu loves spending time with Nene, leading to the following exchange

If you look for them, any fan TL of this scene will be something similar to this:

Luka: ...Fufu. Emu-chan really loves Nene-chan, doesn't she? Nene: Th-that's nothing special...

EN's official translation is this:

So what's the issue? I'll start with Luka's part. In the original text, she uses the word daisuki, which can mean to "like a lot" or "love". It's a word you will see frequently in the idol/idol-adjacent genre of games, due to its ambiguity in that it can be read as either platonic or romantic when used towards a person, and often will be used in ambiguous situations so that it's harder to confirm the writers' intentions either way. so here, fans of the emu/nene ship could view the fact that emu loves spending her time with nene as more on the romantic side, but people who don't like the ship could view it as platonic and move on.

while they didn't translate daisuki directly, Luka's line still works, and still contains the ambiguity that works as ship tease in the original text. it's a perfectly fine localisation that still conveys the original intent. despite that, there is something to be said about EN's consistent refusal to translate daisuki as love in most instances when it's not used on An/Kohane (but then again, EN has literally teased An/Kohane on their twitter account so is it all that surprising?).

Here's some examples:

Aibou no koto ga daisuki de / he loves his partner -> he cares about his partner very much (The Power of Unity chapter 7 when Kaito is comparing Arata to Akito and Toya)

HARUKA-CHAN, DAISUKI DAYOOOO!!! / HARUKA-CHAN, I LOOOOOVEEE YOU!!! -> You're the best!!! (Dear Me, As I Was Back Then chapter 4 when minori is at an ASRUN concert. this one isn't actually that great of a localisation)

Honachan no koto daisuki dakara. Kore de iinda yo. / I love Honachan, so this is fine. -> I want what's best for her. And this is it. (Leo/need main story chapter 14 after Saki tells Honami she won't bother her anymore)

Minna daisuki de - taisetsuna tomodachi na no / I love them all - they're my dearest friends -> They're all amazing, and very dear to me. (Leo/need main story chapter 17. this isn't good either)

What's particularly amusing about that last one is that there's a second official translation for it that I assume was done by JP staff (since EN never promoted doing the Journey to Bloom subs like they did back when they provided subs for Petit SEKAI) that actually keeps the word daisuki as love.

Yeah. I love all my friends - and they mean the world to me.

It's a better localisation than the official EN team one.

Questionable localisation choices aside, Luka's line is fine and is actually in line with the original. The issue with this localisation very much lies with Nene's part, because that is an entirely new line.

In the original text, Nene's "that's just normal" or "that's nothing special" or however you choose to TL it, is meant to be her questioning Luka's statement, since all the things that the other vsingers said that Emu liked were pretty normal things like going shopping and playing video games with nene. To Nene, these things are normal activities for them to do together, so she gets embarrassed by the fact that Luka concludes from that information that Emu loves Nene. When I dissect it like that I think you can really tell what the writers were going for here lol.

"That's just us being friends" does still convey the idea that Nene thinks these activities aren't anything out of the ordinary and she isn't sure why the vsingers are picking these out as some of Emu's favorite things to do, but it's very different from the original line. "But those are just normal things we do together" is something I just came up with on the spot, but it's a lot closer to the original text and still conveys the same meaning. The fact they changed the line to "that's just us being friends" is, honestly, not even subtle that they're covering up queer subtext. The original scene was very clearly written in as ship tease, and EN mentioning "friends" for no reason, especially since the word nor anything close to it was not used in the original, is instantly a red flag because it's like the go-to for queerbaiting and censorship. This was intentional. There was no need for them to specify that the relationship is platonic, Luka's part is ambiguous for a reason so that fans can view it how they like.

Just to top all this off, here's Rin's original line just before that Luka+Nene interaction:

Oh, and! And! She said that playing games with Nene-chan is also super fun!

And here's Rin's line from the official EN translation:

That's not the same thing, but even more weirdly, the incorrect part (super fun->really loves) is a correct translation for the part changed in Luka's line. So, they can do it, they are willing to say "really loves", just not in the right places. Maybe because Rin's part is less personal than Luka's part? It's strange actually, this isn't the first time they've done this either. Off the top of my head I can think of an example from Shiho's Varied Kindness 2* story where they translated the word "suki" as really loves, despite that being much stronger than the original word used (and the fact that daisuki is used a lot in the Leo/need stories and it's incredibly rare if not entirely unknown for them to translate it correctly).

It's not subtle that they're trying to remove implications of the characters possibly being queer, they did it in curtain call and they did it in walk on and on, and multiple times before then too. And considering some of the content in this year's events and the amount of times they say daisuki alone, it's gonna keep happening. honestly i hate the fact that i keep trying to justify the translations in these posts. these translations are intentional. what happened in the curtain call translation back in october says enough. when a character who uses explicitly romantic language towards another guy passes as a straight character in the translation you know they're doing it on purpose.

oh and once again, it's only the EN server that has this issue. The scene in question was translated almost word-for-word on the TW and KR servers.

read fan translations. they're better than what EN gives us and people put a lot of effort into them.

[pandoratheprocrasticreator]

hey in DRDT if eden does end up being the mastermind like some theories say i can see her having actually killed arei for whatever reason and pulling a tsumugi shirogane and framing ace for it. like ace sees ppl will vote him guilty anyway so he pretends to have done the murder to get everyone killed out of spite. but then monotv says everyone voted right and he is the killer and he's wrongfully executed. then the others discover that in chapter 6 when they pin it on eden or whatever.

it would play into teruko's decision to trust eden. since teruko didn't pursue eden when she was suspicious, she would have let the real killer and mastermind get away and it would play into the theme of ppl betraying teruko, if that's what the dev is going for.

more interestingly for me rn though, it would play into ace's persecution complex he has this chapter. like imagine everyone ganging up on you and deciding you're the killer, so you lie that you are, expecting to get them killed. and then you're told that, nope, monotv has arbitrarily decided that you ARE the killer when you're clearly not. and everyone else survives but you and ONLY you are executed. for something you didn't even do. that's just confirms to ace that everyone, including the ppl who run the killing game, hates him, specifically.

[itti-the-mouse]

Uh oh! Mousegirls aren't allowed inside the building because...

You have to hide your mousegirl, quick!