#it fits the sentence structure perfectly too

[aetsiv]

don't forget the fact that he was only able to understand himself and be understood properly when he came to ketterdam, a city filled with canals and water (hence the 'water hears and understands' part).

"The water hears and understands. The ice does not forgive."

ok Leigh stop breaking my heart over the fact that the ice never forgave Matthias and he ended up paying the consequences

[bitethedevil]

What do you like about the character of Raphael ?

A Feral Love Letter to the Devil We Know

Oh boy. Here’s my list of why Raphael is like catnip to me (it’s not short and it is possibly a bit extra deranged because I am currently sick).

Purely physical things that convince me that this man was made for me in a lab:

Brown eyes and dark hair has always been my type

The slight stubble and those cheekbones (generally just his whole facial structure is beautiful)

The fucking n o s e <3 <3

Those thick thighs (perfectly sittable and bitable). He is just perfectly shaped.

Those hands he waves in your face all the time and those long fingers (does things to me)

His clothes. Yes, even in cambion form and even the silly clown boots, I love them. It is just all too extra, and I live for it

Everything about his cambion form

I have this crazy theory. There has been made these studies that depending on hormone levels, women are attracted to different kinds of men. At one end of their cycle, they prefer more ‘feminine’ looking men, and on the other end they prefer more traditionally ‘masculine’ looking men. If I get tired of his human form, I get more attracted to his cambion form and the cycle repeats. I think that is why I just do not get tired of staring at this stupid man every day. I know I’m not crazy. It’s science (and we all know I’m a trusted scientist).

Non-physical things that intrigue me:

How expressive he is. I love how his face changes constantly and dramatically with each sentence he speaks. It’s mostly an act but he is so charismatic. He has ‘rizz’ like the kids would say.

I can’t fix him. I don’t want to. His mind games intrigue me. I want to study him like a bug and play mind games with him too (I’m not delusional enough to think I’d win). Let it be toxic as fuck on both parts.

This man is just chucking stones from his glass house like there is no tomorrow. He plays such a big bad devil, but he is really just a little wet cat with a god complex and daddy issues. Not to mention his little hissy fits if any of his perceived weaknesses are pointed out. I find it endearing (unfortunately).

His voice and his eloquence. I love it. Even his shitty poetry. I could listen to it for eternity.

He is so smart. I have been shouting it from the roof tops: he is not stupid. He is always ten steps ahead.

He’s honest. He doesn’t lie and you know where you’ve got him (if you know how to keep up with him).

Genuinely everyone thinks he sucks, both devils and mortals, and yet he thinks he is the shit, either genuinely or as a coping mechanism.

He just such a nuances character if you really dig into it.

Things I relate to:

The scheming and overthinking. Everything is meticulously thought out to the point of obsession. He is playing 4D chess but doesn’t even consider that the other players might just eat the pieces to win. He strikes me as someone who completely overcomplicates things for no reason, and I felt that.

His idea of order is very different from what’s actually orderly. It just has to make sense to him, like ‘what do you mean it’s not orderly to have dead people lying around, trash everywhere, and debtors running around aimlessly in my house? Completely intentional. What’s not clicking?”. I felt that too. There is order to my chaos, and you don’t have to understand it. I get it.

He’s a cringy theater kid with a love for poetry too.

I too find it annoying when other people don’t follow the script I had in mind for the conversation.

Just human enough to understand how human interactions works, but either doesn’t give a shit or genuinely thinks that just spouting vaguely threatening poetry to strangers is a completely normal thing to do.

The obsession and ambition that just completely makes him lose the plot of everything else.

He is just so obsessed with everything being perfect to a point where it almost seems silly.

Acts like he doesn’t care, but actually cares A LOT about how other people perceive him.

I could honestly keep going but you get the picture.

(Thank you for the ask <3)

[kentopedia]

it's been decades since you've last seen dazai; your lover & your maker. now that you're finally happy, he's haunting you again with a thousand buried memories.

overall contents. fem!reader, nsfw minors dni, exes to lover, gothic romance, blood drinking, vampire!reader, vampire!dazai, smut, cheating reader, complicated relationships, blood, gore, jealousy, manipulation, religious symbolism, betrayal, reunions — currently at 21k words

PART I ♰ MASTERLIST

As another careful conversation progressed, you poured the tasteless champagne down your throat, the liquid far too much like sandy water.

It was the same, over, and over. The sentence structures were unchanged, never deviating from saying too much without saying anything at all. A practiced smile would follow, where lips perfectly curled upwards. Copied faces plastered onto the next, making it difficult to determine where one individual personality ended and the next began.

These were repeated games, you knew, and you maintained the politeness required of you, even as each curtsy felt stiff and robotic, each refined handshake felt dishonest and meaningless.

Still, you’d grown used to the monotony of this dull life. You tolerated it gladly, ignoring the continuous throb in the back of your mind that grated at you, reminding you that things hadn’t always been this way.

Quietly, you shoved that small voice away. If all of the pomp and circumstance meant you’d feel normal, you’d gladly put on a show and pretend you belonged there.

The woman that stood before you continued her monologue, her dark eyes bright enough to match her elated smile. Her lips were a red, distracting and perfectly lined with the kind of makeup you were certain was far outside her budget. Though her cheeks were powdered and bright, you noticed the beginnings of lines on her young skin, the signs of a life more taxing than she let on.

You’d forgotten her name already. Too many people had introduced themselves to you this evening, and you hadn’t had the patience or interest to remember them. It was unlikely you’d see most of the guests again, after all.

“Congratulations,” the woman said, squeezing your wrist like you’d once played together on the playground. You cringed, wondering if she’d say anything about the iciness of your skin, though it was almost indiscernible with your satin glove as a cover. “I had a feeling you two were going to get engaged soon, but I had no idea when he would pop the question.”

You traded her an indulgent smile, nodding along as you tried not to let all of the conversation float right over your head. Somewhere in the past few decades, you’d lost interest in the faux interactions that events of this grandeur yielded. Everyone was merely putting on their best act, fitting in with those that they deemed superior to them in every way.

In truth, your engagement party was never supposed to reach this scale. Somewhere in between a few close friends, half the city had been invited. It was alarming to see so many unfamiliar faces in a celebration that was supposed to be entirely for you and your new fiancée.

“Thank you,” you said smoothly as Atsushi nudged you gracefully, probably wondering if you’d been ignoring all his friends that evening.

You had… but you felt bad telling him that and would never admit to it. The engagement ball had been his idea, and while you were vehemently against it, you’d indulged him in his innocent excitement. After a life that you’d lived to the fullest, Atsushi seemed to think he had something to prove when it came to loving you.

You just wanted to be with him, plain and simple. There was no need for all the theatrics.

“I’m surprised you invited so many people, Atsushi,” the woman continued, and you’d wished you’d paid attention when she told you her name. She was one of Atsushi’s co-workers, after all. He’d be upset with you if you forgot everyone that he introduced you to. “You’re not usually that type of person.”

Atsushi flushed, and he darted his eyes away bashfully. “It wasn’t my intention for so many guests to be here. Someone got a bit carried away with the invitations.” His thought trailed off, and he diverted to the story of how the elaborate affair had been conceived. Atsushi was the friend of a wealthy agency president’s son, who had offered to organize the event for you. Predictably, he went completely overboard, and now appeared to be having more fun than either you or Atsushi.

Atsushi spun that particular tale with passionate amusement, and you let your eyes wander, hoping to spot a singular face that you were familiar with. If you stood by your fiancée with nothing to say any longer, you weren’t sure you’d make it to the end of the night.

Across the room, a couple of your neighbors huddled in a circle of gossip. You considered speaking to them, if only to entertain yourself, but their husbands were horrendously awful, you didn’t think you could stomach it.

The rest of Atsushi’s co-workers shared hors d'oeuvres and a polite conversation away from the societal elites. On the left side of the floor, the woman who tailored your clothes spoke with another young girl you’d never seen before. A baker from down the street drowned himself in a glass of champagne, looking so dreadfully lonely that you weren’t sure how he’d gotten into the party at all.

You frowned inwards, realizing that while you recognized many of these people, they were more Atsushi’s friends than your own. These were people who greeted him every night on the street, passing their eyes over you like you were just another midnight fling, not the woman he’d been with for nearly two years.

There were too many strangers here to celebrate a marriage they felt nothing about. The superficiality of the situation left a bitter taste in your mouth, and you, very quickly, felt like an outcast at your own party.

You played with the chain around your neck, glancing from person to person. Atsushi, beside you, carried on his conversation, every so often throwing in a word about his work. You were listening half-heartedly, still trying to decide if this was worth all the trouble, or if you should give up on the niceties and head home early.

Someone behind you laughed.

The noise caught your notice because of how achingly familiar it was, how eerie, even. It was cynical and sharp, almost a snort of air that had been released on an accidental exhale. Still, you could hear the genuine amusement in it, a gratitude that came with being able to have something to laugh about.

You shuddered, your body unwillingly reacting as you turned to see who had been loud enough to draw your attention, to stand out amongst a sea of disinteresting people and intolerable voices.

In the corner, the man stood with an aligned spine, every muscle taut to hold himself up. His dark hair was grown out, but every strand remained smooth and healthy, falling over his forehead in loose waves that were glossy in the candlelight. He was caught in a conversation with another, twirling a glass of wine between his fingers, disgustingly captivated by the individual before him.

There was something too recognizable about him for comfort. The shadowed outline of his silhouette was the ghost of a memory, and you were left gawking at a person that you might not even recognize once he turned.

Swallowing, you tried to avert your gaze more subtly as he began to shift his position. He’d noticed you watching him, and he peered over his shoulder, in the fraction of a moment, to catch your eye.

His features were unmistakable.

Your glass slipped from your hands, shattering into a hundred tiny shards on the marble floor. It shushed the room as you maneuvered clumsily to hide away behind Atsushi. From head to foot, you had gone stiff, your body colder than it ever had been, even when you were on the brink of death, before the bliss of sweet blood had ventured down your throat, a memory you’d tucked far away.

You’d long since given up on praying, but you thought about it, just this once, in the hopes he hadn’t recognized you.

Which was a ridiculous concept, really. The memory of him was as fresh in your mind as every bit of yesterday was. He was as likely to forget the image of you as he was his own name, even if you did your makeup differently, if your clothes had changed from how they’d once been.

He’d come here with a purpose—that was the only thing that made sense—and it certainly would have something to do with you. The undeniable acknowledgement sent another wave of nausea through your gut, and you tried to remember what it was like to breathe.  

“Honey?” Atsushi asked, concerned, his voice bringing you back to the present. His hand was on your lower back, wide eyes full of an anxiety you often saw reflected back at you. “Is everything alright?”

“I’m fine,” you said, clutching your hands to your sides to calm yourself. If you didn’t turn around, maybe he’d go away. Maybe he was just an illusion. One way or another, you needed to be free of him. “I just need to get some fresh air. I’ll be alright.”

It was then that you realized that almost everyone’s eyes were on you, and while some stared back at you with pity, some began snickering under their breaths at the darkened stains on the bottom of your gown. You ignored them, trying not to feel the burning observation against your back, trapping you.

If you left, he was certain to follow.

You stepped away from Atsushi, and his hand reached out to you, before retracting, falling. “Are you sure?” He followed your every movement. “You seem—”

“Yes.” You smiled at him placatingly, hoping no one else could hear you. You didn’t want them to be concerned—least of all, Atsushi. It had nothing to do with your engagement, and you were afraid it appeared that way. “I’ll be right back.”

Atsushi seemed to understand after that, shifting his attention to his friends warmly, as he attempted to diffuse the tension. If anything, he knew that you had no desire to cause a scene and relented to your wishes, drawing everyone’s focus off of you. “Alright. I’ll wait here.”

He’d always been steadfast in his understanding. It was one of the reasons that you had fallen for him in the first place.

You nodded and said goodbye to the dark-haired woman before escaping from the ballroom, hoping you could find a room to hide in. Once your feet started moving, they didn’t stop, carrying you throughout the manor in a desperate search for the closest escape route. There were too many doors in the house, a multitude of bedrooms that weren’t needed at all.

As you weaved your way through the halls, you ran into a few couples caught in a salacious embrace, blocking each of the rooms that had once been private. They shouted at you, and you slammed the door uncomfortably, having no desire to intrude on their secretive affairs.

You couldn’t remember what it was like to be sick, to expel every last fluid from your stomach, but you were certain it resembled whatever you were feeling now. Foreboding dread had come to cripple you in every sense of the word, gripping you tightly in the vice of panic.

Finally, you reached an empty bedroom, one with a balcony that overlooked nothing but the gardens. It was a beautiful night, and the dark sky calmed you, bringing you back to the present, pulling you away from memories that you had shoved deep into the pits of your soul, burying them under lock and key.

There was a dreamy hue over the garden, illuminated by the candles and lamps outside. For just a moment, you basked in the serene lighting, the calmness of the evening away from all the guests. The music inside was but a faint whisper, the orchestra stumbling their way back into a tune after you’d escaped the ball less than dramatically.

Inhaling through your nose, you stilled your mind, and waited for the peace to end.

You felt his presence behind you before you heard him, those sharp eyes on you like daggers along your back. He moved silently, gracefully, like he was floating above the floor and not even there at all.

You curled your hands into a fist, staring hard into the horizon as your nails broke the skin of your palm. He’d be the first one to speak, as he always had been, and you’d get sucked into his alluring features, letting yourself indulge as you knew you shouldn’t.

Closing your eyes, you waited for him to break the silence. To come up behind you and hover his touch over your skin. The fragrance of his skin got closer and closer, and you squeezed your eyes tighter, hating how much you’d missed him. That even when you despised him, a part of you still belonged in his possession.

“I’ve missed you, my angel.”

Five words were all it took. Your knees buckled under you, the voice you hadn’t heard in decades like a soothing lullaby from your childhood, a hymn you’d used to worship a god that had left you behind. Your knuckles turned pale as you squeezed the stone of the balcony barrier, just enough force to keep you on your feet.

His voice was never gentle, but for you, he plated his steely knife in rose-colored foil, softening the edges until it couldn’t cut too deep. The sound was exactly as it had always been; nostalgia had its teeth deep in you, before that cool wave of horror crashed over you, remembering who it was, exactly, that you were dealing with.

“Don’t call me that.” You grew stiff as you felt him drawing closer, pulling to you with every word. Within seconds, he was near enough to ghost a breath along your neck, merely a phantom sensation.

“Hm.” His fingers dipped along your shoulders, the blades between them, and you tilted your head away, refusing to gaze into those eyes. “You always did hate that, didn’t you?”

Against your better judgement, a part of you had lit on fire. You longed for him, even when it sickened you.

“Perhaps my lovely devil will suffice instead. You never could accept that you were the very killer I made you out to be.”

“I don’t care what you call me.” You stepped away until you were digging your flesh into the balcony guard, the stone cold as it pressed into your stomach. “I’m not yours anymore.”

“Can you say that while meeting my eyes?" Dazai laughed, and though the sound of it was acerbic and mocking, he stayed where he was. "Maybe I’ll believe you, then. You’ve always been so horrible at lying to me.”

You snarled, ready to slice your nails across his cheek and watch with satisfaction as the blood dripped to his chin.

The anger steeled you, made you think you’d be prepared to face him once more; surely the hatred for him outweighed your lasting weakness.

You turned, eyes narrowed, and though you continued to exhibit your antagonism, the sight of him was poison to your resolve.

Dazai was still as hauntingly beautiful as always, those deep eyes gleaming in the moonlight, watching you with a hint of amusement. His hair was styled as it had been a century ago, transcending lifetimes while he remained eternally twenty-two. He smiled, lips curling into a grim expression, all too delighted with the loose hold he still had over you.

You averted your gaze but stood your ground. “I hate you, Dazai.” You curled your arms around your chest, keeping the distance between you. “I always will.”

For all his confidence, Dazai’s expression momentarily fell, like he’d expected you to welcome him back with loving arms, grovel at his feet with apologies you didn’t mean. Then, the insincere smile was back, drawing you in with revolting sweetness. “I’ve searched for you for decades. I thought you were dead—”

“I don’t care.”

“—Only to find out you’d been running from me this entire time.” Dazai invaded your circle once more, and his fingers pinched your jaw, studying you raptly. There was just a foot of air between you, the cool heat exchanged in your breaths. You ignored every muscle in your body that was relying on memory, wishing to do all the things that it had once done. “Did those years together mean nothing? Were you not to be my everlasting companion?”

You swatted his hand away, a million little fires starting along every point where your skin met. But no matter how beautiful he was, how calm those saccharine words of his made you feel, you knew the mercilessness that he was capable of. “I never made that choice of my own volition. You took it away from me.”

His eyes flashed before he retracted, complacent. “I gave you what you asked for. A life more than the one you had. And then I gave you everything I had left to give.”

“Your apology means nothing to me. Get the hell out of here.” Your words lacked the bite that you’d wished for, not sure you had the courage to push him into a fight. His strength outweighed yours by centuries; you had enough sense not to challenge that.  

Dazai blinked, and then laughed, jeering, without any sense of real humor. “You misunderstand. I’m not apologizing.” He tucked a hand back into his coat, regarding you with serious disdain as he sunk back, the outline of his dark clothes blending with the evening. “I never regretted the decision I made that night.”

You stared at him, blinking, before retracting and matching his heartless laugh with one of your own.

It was as if you’d never been parted at all. The unpleasant decades thinned into one small period, an insignificant point in time that, now, seemed nothing more than a development to your character. “Fine. I’ve got nothing to say to you, Dazai. I wanted to be rid of you, and I was. Your insincere words don’t matter to me anymore.”

His jaw tightened, and you stared each other down, searching for any glimpse of the familiar figure you’d used to love. Undeniably, he was there. Those eyes of his were just the same. The soft words he used for you and only you had never changed.

Yet, just as those sweet parts of him were as comforting as ever, the ugly parts of him were there as well. You remembered his cruelty, his gift of manipulation, and you pushed him away, never again wanting to be strung in that web.

Dazai did nothing but blink as you withdrew, standing straight, pulled taut by a marionette cord. “Is this the life you intend to live now? This half-hearted existence where you befriend mortals that will wither without you, to be engaged to a man you will never spend eternity with? Pitiful, really.”

For just a moment, you’d been so caught up in Dazai that the man who’d loved you with all of his heart had vanished into the atmosphere. It was as if, somehow, you’d forgotten that Atsushi was there at all.

Guilt overwhelmed you.

That man, the sweet, kind man who had become your saving grace, was at risk because of your carelessness. Dazai was too smart not to have taken cautious measures, and you knew he’d learned everything there was to know about your life before intervening.

It made sense why he’d appeared now of all times. It was the perfect opportunity to ruin everything you’d loved for good, reducing you to the whimpering mess that had accepted him in the first place.

He'd made you; he’d known you; he’d loved you for decades. If anyone knew how to break you, it was Dazai Osamu, and that was the thing that scared you the most.  

“I fully intend to turn him,” you said, hating the way your voice broke on a singular syllable, making you seem uncertain of the decision you’d made nearly a year ago. “Though I appreciate your concern. I’ll be perfectly happy this way.”

The comment didn’t faze Dazai, who grinned, his eyes burning with a fire you’d never forget, a sort of glee that only transpired from evil. “I should kill him before that happens, shouldn’t I?” His teeth gleamed in the candlelight, two long fangs slipping over his lips with threatening causality. The points were even more severe in the lighting. “I’ll be sure to savor in the taste as I rip his throat out.”

The image was sickening, a gruesome thought that made your old panic reignite. You schooled your lips into nothing but a line, knowing that Dazai could detect even the smallest change in your features.

“Honestly, I’m surprised you’ve managed to control yourself so well.” He went on, mocking you with every second that passed. “After three years, did I hear? I admit, I was having trouble listening over the band.” He tilted his head, studying you, searching deep into your consciousness for an answer that would satiate him. “You’ve never been able to resist your hunger before. What changed?”

You knew better than to underestimate him and stood taller.

“I’m not the same person I was when I was with you, and I never want to be her again.” You closed your eyes, looking away.

“This isn’t the life I envisioned for you a century ago.”

“My life is not yours to craft. I’m not some doll you can bend to your will.” Finally, you reached out to him, wrapping your hands around his own. His skin was cold, dead, void of any blush from the stolen blood in his veins. You were one word away from begging, pleading with him, even as you stood your ground. “Just don't kill him, Osamu. I’d never forgive you, and that’s what you want, isn’t it? You want me to come back to you.”

The scowl twitched ever-so-slightly as something in his eyes flashed. His name on your lips had always been his greatest weakness, and you could see him thinking hard. “For once, my love, you’re wrong. That’s not what I came here for.”

You stared, puzzled, before dropping his hand and frowning. “Then what are you here for?”

“I was looking for you, yes,” he admitted with a one-shoulder shrug. “I’ve been looking for you for years, and it is by mere coincidence that I found you here.” A cheer sounded inside the house from a toast. You wished that you were in there, warm, where all of this was but a nightmare. “As happy as I am to see that you’re alive and well, I refuse to compete with someone who turns you into everything you are not. If you’re so much happier without me, then who am I to stand in the way?”

“I’m supposed to believe that?” you scoffed.

You’d be a fool to believe that was any more than an obvious lie, that Dazai’s motives were pure of heart. He had never been loud about his jealousy, but he’d killed every lover you’d ever dared to take, leaving you alone with no one but him for comfort.

Dazai had always refused you even one outlet of happiness, even when he’d had other lovers of his own, had brought his one-night affairs to your shared home. The place where you slept in the same bed, fucked on most every surface imaginable had been tarnished with decisions that he’d never be able to undo.

Your gaze hardened. It didn’t matter anymore. With lives that never ended, vampires weren’t known for their monogamy. You were naïve to think that a man like Dazai would give that to you.  

“I mean it, Dazai.” You shoved away the vile memories from the forefront of your mind, wanting them to stay just that – memories. They would not become a repetition of the past. “If you kill him, I’ll burn you to ashes. Then, I’ll step into the flames myself.”

“Ah, but wouldn’t that be such a lovely way to go? Tossed into the flame by the very woman I care for most dearly, reunited only moments later in death.” He seemed too fascinated by the idea, his gaze faraway as if wondering what could possibly push you to that breaking point.

“Hell has a special place for you, Dazai,” you said, disgusted. “Somewhere far, far away from me.”

He laughed darkly. “Oh, how wrong you are. If I am the devil himself, as so many say that I am, then I’ll ensure we spend every moment in the flames together.”

Your lip curled, and you pushed him back in abhorrence, ignoring the tug in your heart that wanted to do everything but. You hated him, you loved him, you never wanted to see him again, you wished he’d stay by your side forever.

Nothing was more dangerous than the allure of fond memories. It seemed even those could lead you to turn a blind eye to the horrors that had been unleashed in the very city you inhabited.

You exhaled. There had to be a line in the sand, a point that you could never pass.

“Please, Dazai. Let me go.” His very presence had already put a kink in your future plans, and if he stayed any longer, you weren’t sure how much damage he’d cause. “Things can never go back to the way they were. I don’t want them to.”

“I don’t either,” he promised, nodding sincerely. “You’ll be rid of me once I make sure that this is what you really want. Who would I be if I watched you lock yourself into a marriage with a man you can never love more than you loved me? To watch you live a life reduced to hiding in the shadows, pretending you were never there at all?”

The arrogant bastard.

“I do love Atsushi more than I ever loved you,” you said with as much conviction as you could muster, your eyes full of flames, unrelenting. That man was waiting for you downstairs, probably worried out of his mind. You refused to play any more games. “Loving you was the biggest mistake I ever made. It was a mistake to let you turn me. I regret all of it.”

Dazai’s lips curled, his gums exposed as he snarled. “Ah, but mistakes are your specialty, aren’t they? You’ve made even more in my absence.”

You said nothing, tired of already falling into the same routine with him. The same old song and dance, taking you back to a time when all you had was him, a time you never wanted to go back to again. The exchange of cruel words was more familiar than your own last name.

“I should be on my way to my room. Sunrise is fast approaching, and I won’t be taking any risks, now that I know what I have to look forward to.” He bowed his head, though you could see his careless smirk, filling you with an irrepressible anger. “I’ll be around.”

With that, you watched him turn and walk out the door, ruining the rest of your evening.

Dazai’s chin was covered in blood, clots drying together around his lips as he pulled away from the lifeless doll between you, the woman that had once been on her way to becoming a well-known actress. Now, she’d be found in a pile of her own blood, the liquid creating a sticky pool beneath her.

It was a sight you’d never tire of; Dazai the very product of his own misdeeds, looking forever the gruesome killer that he made himself out to be. He was most alluring this way, his fangs protruding over his lips, teeth-stained ruby red from the drink of eternal life.

Your adoration for him was most intense in moments like these, when blood became the one thing that bound you together.

“You are beautiful,” he said, shoving aside the corpse, her deadweight toppling onto the floor. “Everyone pales in comparison to you, my darling.” His fingers were soft around your jaw, bringing you closer, reducing the space between his own lips and yours. “I am eternally yours.”

You woke in the bed that you’d chosen to share with another, the one with a squeaky spring, so unlike the coffins you’d previously spent your days in. The room was completely dark, sun-proofed to save you from your fatal weakness. It could have been the middle of the day, and you wouldn’t have known.  

Atsushi was beside you, a flickering candle creating shadows on his features as he read through his reports. It’d become routine for him to be by your side as you slept, now that you didn’t fear the sun slipping through cracks on the boards.

It wasn’t as much time as you would’ve liked together, being on such different schedules, but you made it work as best you could. Atsushi often went into work with puffy eyes from sleepless nights, or you fumbled around the house, bored while the whole city slept.

“Are you alright?” he asked, eyes full of concern. His hand inched across the bed to hold your own. “You haven’t been yourself since yesterday evening.”

You hated that he’d noticed, even though it was his job to do so. It was wrong to keep secrets from the man you loved, even more when you were to be married in just a few months.

Still, you were reluctant to say anything on the matter, certain that you could deal with Dazai on your own. You’d mentioned him to Atsushi only once, and it was through vague details that gave the impression you were in too much pain to talk about it. Like the sweet man he was, Atsushi had accepted it, and he had never once forced the words from your mouth.

You owed him nothing, but it felt wrong to keep your history with Dazai a secret from him. Especially now. Especially when Dazai, who was a loose cannon on his own, had never been very rational when you were around.

“I’m fine.” You sat up in the bed, maneuvering closer to the side where Atsushi was, his legs spread out in front of him. He was wearing casual clothes and seemed scrubbed clean from a bath. It must have been later than you thought. “Just a weird dream is all.”

“I didn’t know vampires had dreams.” Atsushi went back to his reports.

That was because you’d never told him. You rarely had dreams, and when you did, they were more like memories. Or some prophetic, horrible vision that you’d learn to ignore. Nothing pleasant, like when you were human.

“What time is it?”

“About eight. Sun should be down by now, I haven’t checked. I’ve been working—there seems to be an increased amount of crime this week. I don’t know who came into town, but they’ve got an itch for trouble.”

“It’s not a vampire, is it?” you asked, instantly feeling nauseous. Dazai had no qualms about making a spectacle of killing humans. He’d leave a string of bodies like a signature, knowing you’d recognize his mark.

Atsushi snorted. “No, I think I’d see the signs. Just some regular guy.”

You weren’t convinced. Dazai knew how to hide his tracks and make it seem like anything but a vampire, but you convinced yourself to keep quiet. If Atsushi had even a suspicion about Dazai, he’d go after him, and you didn’t want to see what would happen if he did.

For both your sake and Atsushi’s, you hoped that he was right about this.  

“Okay.” You threw the covers off the bed, putting yourself together with the clothes you’d strewn across the room. Atsushi’s eyes remained on the paper, ever the savior of the city he lived in. It was admirable, really, even if his work took some fraction of your time with him away. “I’m going to go out, Atsushi. I’m starving.”

“Want me to come?” he asked, finally looking up, much too eager. He was always so willing to stand by as you clamped your jaws into rodents, feeding off the unwanted pests that lingered the streets.

It was disgusting. You knew that your diet to him, and to all the other humans, was noble. It was repentance for all the horrid sins you’d committed at your lowest point.

To vampires, it meant you were rejecting your nature, trading your gift for a chance to thinly grasp at the cord of humanity you’d never truly held at all. It was abhorrent and shameful.

“No,” you said, certain that if anyone saw you feed on a rat that evening, you wouldn’t be able to recover. How Atsushi could stand to be with you after that display of events was beyond your comprehension. “I need to clear my head.”

“Okay.” Sometimes, you wondered if he’d ever doubted you at all. He was always understanding of each rejection, each carefully chosen word, no matter how harsh they were. “Will you be back quickly?”

“Of course.” With that you smiled, never wanting to waste the precious hours you had with your fiancée before the sun rose. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Atsushi kissed you before blowing out the candle and laying his head down. “I’m going to take a nap. I’ve been working on this all afternoon.”

“See you later.” You watched as he tucked himself into the bed you’d just left, waving at you lazily from the covers.

You swallowed down the sharp pang in your chest, looking away from him as you left the room, into another that was bathed in moonlight.

Really, you were content with your, but the arrangement between you and Atsushi was growing dismal. While you made it work, you always had, you couldn’t help but feel guilty that you’d never be able to accompany him on daylight ventures, confined to your midnight prison.

You lost your head as you traveled through the dark streets, the city busy with nightlife now that the sun was far beyond the horizon. As usual, there were all kind of people out and about, the rich and poor, the young and old, the good and the bad. And you, the worst of all, the one pretending to fit right in with the rest of them.

After a young couple, not much older than Atsushi, crossed the road, you slunk down into an abandoned alley, bending yourselves into the shadows like the nightly creature you were. You heard the rats scurrying about before you could even spot them, your supernatural hearing so much more attuned to subtle sounds.

With a face, you walked to the hub of rats, your speed much quicker than any of their tiny legs. One particular animal looked back at you, intrigued against its very nature, holding a piece of garbage between its small human-like hands.

You took the rat by the neck, staring into its beady eyes as you plucked it from the ground like a dandelion. The creature looked back at you so helplessly that you almost felt guilty for freeing it from its meaningless existence. Without thinking, you bit into its flesh, draining the rodent dry. The fur was rough against your tongue, disgusting as always as the strands got caught in your teeth.

It wasn’t enough. What little blood you had gained from the animal was never enough to sustain the bloodlust that had increased tenfold since Dazai stepped back into your life.

With a sideways glimpse down the alley, you plucked another rat from the gutter, remembering why you were destroying your own dignity in such a way.

“You’ve made some concerning decisions lately, but this certainly takes the cake.”

With the rat still thrashing around your lips, you glanced up at the man lingering down the alley, his tone cruel and mocking. You continued to suck the last bit of blood from the rodent before tossing the body aside, meeting Dazai’s eyes.

“Why do you care?” you asked, and though you were still starved and lightheaded, you would draw your hunt to a conclusion. You would only embarrass yourself further with Dazai’s keen stare watching your every move.

“I’d wondered why you seemed so weak.” He tossed a disgusted look towards the rats scurrying through the trash, their plump bodies dragging thick tails behind them. “I see, now.”

“Spare me the lecture. I swore I’d never feed from another human, and I’ve never broken my vow.” A rat ran past you, unafraid, even after you’d just killed another member of its clan. The long tail hit your ankle, and you cringed, to Dazai’s satisfaction.

“You’ll get yourself killed. For a vampire of your age, you should be much stronger than this.” He took a step towards you, cornering you in the alley. “Now, you’re a threat to no one.”

“Then, I will die. Something I’m surprised you haven’t done already.”

Dazai was silent, his eyes hard. For all of his promises of the threats that lie out there, you couldn’t spot another but him. There were dangerous vampires in the world, you knew that better than anyone, but he’d always be the one you feared the most.

“Will you continue to torment me for another night?” you sighed wearily, wiping the blood from your chin with a handkerchief. “Your very presence exhausts me.”

Dazai, irritatingly, lit a fire deep in your gut, increasing your hunger to lengths you hadn’t felt in years. You could smell his blood from where you stood, the ambrosia that you’d never tire of. It was a dessert so unlike anything you’d tasted as a human, and you hated that he was tempting you with it now.

Your vision flashed with images of you sinking your fangs into his shoulder, draining him of every last drop as you lost yourself into the man that was Dazai Osamu.

Dazai eyed you carefully, dragging his gaze down to your chest, across your body, back to the blood-stained mouth that remembered too fondly what it was like to taste him. “You still wear the ring I gave you, hovering delicately over your heart.”

You’d forgotten; or you just thought he’d never notice. You’d hidden it under layers of clothing, but still, it had broken free. “A reminder of my past mistakes. It has nothing to do with sentimental value.”

He hummed, considering twirling it around his index finger before he thought better of it. “If that’s the case, why haven’t you turned another companion? Is it not for the hope that we might return to another one day?”

You hadn’t noticed when he’d gotten so close, close enough to touch you. It became hard to focus, even as he kept a respectable distance, letting you retain a semblance of control.

“Atsushi clings to his human life as I did. I will never turn him against his will.” You stood taller, even as you refused to look into his brown irises, to see the mockery that was pushed back at you. “When the moment is right, only then will I do so. That’s something you’d never understand.”

He laughed. “You’ll continue with this narrative, will you?”

You said nothing, staring at the bodies of dead rats that would soon begin to decay. Let him find amusement in the choices you’ve made.

“Sweetheart,” Dazai said, his voice softening with the tone you’d never been able to resist. Your heart twisted, your forehead wrinkling as you kept your eyes firmly on the ground. “Don’t hurt yourself in this way. These vermin will not sustain you.”

“I won’t hunt with you, Dazai. I won’t kill anyone. Don’t try to deceive me into coming back to you.”

“That’s not what I was suggesting.” Before you could discern his actions, Dazai had bit into his wrist, opening a vein as blood poured down his forearm.

You froze.

Fangs had dropped over your bottom lip without a thought, your pupils dilating with the desire of blood. The scent was hard to resist, a sweetness that had been placed on this Earth only for you, handed over from the Devil in an attempt to bring you furthest from God. Though, that might have been all wrong... maybe your god was standing right before you.

Your eyes glued to the fountain of life, and you began to doubt your restraint. It’d been so long.

“Dazai—” you tried to step away, but your feet were cemented, buried under the cobblestones of the dimly lit street. You were a stronger woman than this, and certainly a vampire of your age would not collapse at the sight of blood in the way you were. “Stop it.”

“I’m trying to help you.”

“I don’t want your help. This isn’t what I want at all.”

You finally tore your gaze away, taking a few more steps back into the alley as you regained control of yourself, sick with a yearning for him. Dazai was playing a torturous game, and you refused to be the victim.

The vein closed, and Dazai watched you curiously, but he made no move to reopen the wound. Your irrational thoughts began to calm, and though you could still smell the blood that circled through his body, warm from a recent kill, your resolve was now stronger.

“I can’t stand to see you like this.” His words were hard, disappointed. “I won’t leave until I know you’re safe from harm. Even a mortal could end you with the weakened state you’re in.”

“Safe from harm?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest protectively. “I’m in no danger here. I’ve been fine without you for fifty years, and I will continue to be fine without you for the rest of eternity.”

His voice deepened, eyes narrowing into a glare as he watched you retreat. “Don’t pretend to be a fool. Your very position with me put you at risk. You betrayed vampires even older than me, and they won’t stop until you’re dead.”

You exhaled, looking up at the stars before dropping your attention back to Dazai. “I don’t think you actually care. You told me that you loved me, and time and time again, you failed me. You left me there, Dazai. I had no choice but to betray them; they were going to kill me.”

“I thought they already had.” He reached out to you, curling his hands around your chin, desperate and wanting and so many things that you had never seen him. “Don’t you understand? I thought you were already dead. I never would have left if I’d known the truth. I’d never think of escaping without you.”

Your breath caught, and while you couldn’t stand to believe him, you felt yourself giving in a little more, succumbing to Dazai each time you crossed his path. Still, you removed his hands from your face, forcing yourself to be a little stronger, to put up those steely walls until he left your life once and for all. “I don’t trust you, Osamu, and you don’t trust anyone but yourself. There’s no reason for us to be speaking at all.”

His jaw tightened, but he let you go, straightening with a frustration he didn’t deserve.

“I’m going home to my fiancée—the man who has never put conditions on his affection. Please, stay as far away from me as you can.”

You shoved past him, shaking with nerves. Though he was stronger, he stumbled back, watching you go with an emotion you couldn’t discern.

PART II

tag list: @cerberels @thateldribitch @hauntedsol @hannzai @cha0thicpisces @kissesmellow21 @sukiischaotic @hinata7346

[bitbytebot]

i think OFF is getting a new, official english translation alongside the fangamer merch releases in december.

my reasoning: i've been digging through the website given in the teaser. right now it's an email newsletter signup page; this makes sense, given that the URL needs to be live to build hype up to the event date.

on this website, there's a rotation of quotes from OFF that are in english. and apparently, along with the very rare and completely new quote that pops up on there sometimes, the quotes the website flashes are not a match to the v3 english fan translation... even though that's the only way to play the game in english. (yes i know about forgotten dreams)

i have OFF english translation v3 open in RPG maker 2003 right now on my laptop. and using some web dev magic, i also have the official text from all of these dialogues. come find out why i've slowly been going insane over the course of today. (it's thanksgiving 2024, if you were wondering. also this post is probably best viewed on desktop.)

here's a quote from purified.zone, the teaser website from fangamer.

Uh... will you find the leader of the specters? Well... it would be great if that were possible... Well... yes...

and here is that same quote, directly from the r3proj file used by the OFF v3 english translation.

Uh... Will you find the leader of the spectres? Well... It would be great if that was possible... Well... yes...

sentence-case capitalization and tense changes aside, the move from "spectre" (european english) to "specter" (american english) immediately jumps out at me. (i say european, but i don't know the translator's nationality. i just know that professor layton did that with one of their games, last specter in the USA and last spectre in europe.) the important part being, mortis ghost is belgian and speaks french. the original game had it as spectres, and either the fan translator was european or preferred that spelling and kept it. fangamer, however, is an american company -- and the spelling of "specters" on their site is specifically in american english. (only we would fuck up a perfectly good word. it looks way better with the re.)

how do I know it wasn't just a typo? because there's two lines with the word specter in them on the site! screenshots upon ye!

You've come to eliminate the specters? That's good news.

You've come to eliminate the spectres? That's good news.

not just someone getting carried away on copy, then -- this is an intentional change. specifically, i think this difference can be explained by these being two subsequent translations, first v3 and now the website/new english translation/steam release/v4, with differing guidelines for their finished products. they're entirely TOO similar to not be related, to me -- forgotten dreams (2023) is a good example of a vastly different english translation of the game, and proves that one can be done. but if you have a widely beloved english fan translation that already exists... why not just get the rights and spice it up a little with some fresh editing?

So, will the final verdict be handed down soon? The employees here are certainly in need of your muscular wrist...

So, will the final verdict soon be reached? Numerous employees are certainly in need of your muscular wrist...

these changes feel like they've been made by a copy editor; the meaning is the same, but the structure flows better. "soon be reached" fits a latin language (french) phrase structure where the verb goes at the end of the question, whereas "be handed down soon" is a more natural english phrasing, at least to this native english speaker.

some changes, however, are stylistic in nature. i quite like the change in dedan's line here, for example.

If all of you would just listen to me more often, you wouldn't keep stepping in it.

If only you listened to me more often, you wouldn't keep making fools of yourselves.

"stepping in it" feels WAY more natural and in character for dedan to say. he's the big man in charge, da boss! he isn't wasting his time on lengthy diatribes, saying shit like "if only." this is a localization change, giving dedan a gruff and tough vibe through the way he talks. good stuff!!!

but it's a lot of care and thought being put into these dialogue rewrites for, need I remind you again, an email newsletter website. (this thing is written in like, straight html/css/javascript, i doubt they even used a web builder.) the guy that made this didn't retranslate the lines for this; he got his copy from someone, who got it from somewhere else, which somewhere all the way down along the line got approved by mortis ghost. and fangamer, obviously.

this post is long, we've been here awhile. how about a refresher: I think OFF is getting a v4 official english translation coordinated around the release of this new fangamer merchandise wave.

because if i'm fangamer, should i release merchandise for a beloved cult classic game that can only be played in english by my target american audience when using an unofficial translation on a real computer? where you have to use the file system? i don't know if i would. wouldn't you rather release merch for something safe, something on steam or consoles? something like undertale?

oh. that's weird, that link goes to a physical release of undertale being sold on fangamer's website. that's not merch, that is a game that was originally released digital only on computers and wasn't released physically + on consoles until a few years after. not to mention that you can buy undertale physical edition in stores these days, as published by fangamer, due to its massive popularity.

hm.

let's see... what about FAITH the unholy trinity?

see, that was originally a little indie game released in three chapters on itch.io that blew up with the lofi/analog horror scene, and ended up getting a steam remaster + physical release + merch release from fangamer. given their shared themes of cleansing, unsettling imagery, and excellent character writing, you can see where i might draw some similarities -- they both have pixel art, for one thing.

i think the pattern is there. it's true, fangamer does sell just merch and not physical releases for some games -- oneshot comes to mind, but that game was officially ported to consoles, which is an entirely different undertaking given that it uses fourth wall break mechanics. the tradeoff makes sense to me for it to still be profitable. (most people probably don't own a physical copy of stardew valley and yet probably do have a piece of stardew merch from fangamer...)

no, there has not been an official announcement about this. this is purely speculative, with evidence gathered from one afternoon of poking around with postman and rpg maker 2003. but i think there's evidence for OFF getting, at the very least, an official steam/itch.io release with a new translation. the date announcement trailer even has game footage from an area that isn't in the original game data. so... there's that, too.

i probably could have just led with that and saved us both 1219 words. ah, well. c'est la vie.

[haru-dipthong]

Really good anime translation: コタローは一人暮らし

I complained in a post a while ago about how I mostly think english translations of anime aren’t very good, and @japanwords asked me if there were any anime I know of that have good translations. I don’t actually watch that much anime so I didn’t have a good answer, but recently I found one that really fit the bill: 『コタローは一人暮らし』or “Kotaro lives alone”

For those who haven’t seen it, it’s a show about a 5 year old kid who lives alone without any parents or guardians, and makes friends with his neighbours in the apartment complex (a lazy manga artist, a woman who’s a hostess at a local nightclub, and a scary yakuza who finds Kotaro unbelievably cute). These friends end up helping Kotaro when he needs someone to act as a guardian, such as when he enrols at the local kindergarten.

The other thing you have to know about Kotaro is he speaks like a Japanese feudal lord.

This really is the crux of what makes the translation so good, because how the hell do you translate that?! The way they chose to do it is by using archaic english phrases. He kinda speaks like a Victorian era gentleman, and he sometimes even verges on sounding like a stereotypical medieval knight. This works perfectly, because Kotaro is actually imitating a character from his favourite cartoon: a samurai hero/feudal lord. Let’s look at some examples:

「放すである」 "Unhand me!"

A simple example to start with, I thought it might be interesting to compare how a 5 year old might actually say this, and how I would translate that:

「放してー！😭"」 "Let goooo! 😭"

Even though the japanese uses the same verb (放す), the english translation is completely different. The choice here to make it “unhand me” (much more evocative of a time period) instead of just “let go of me” (simply a longer way of saying it) is a perfect example of the care this anime puts into its translation.

狩野：「美月さん、アイス食べます？…… あれ？」 “Hey, Mizuki. Would you like an ice cream cone? …… Hello?” 美月：「アイスをもらうけど私、狩野くん誘ってないんだよなぁ」 “While I appreciate the ice cream, you know you weren’t actually invited, Karino.” コタロー：「お邪魔である」 “Interloper.”

邪魔 is a notoriously difficult word to translate, and the natural-sounding corresponding english phrase will vary quite wildly depending on the situation. In non-feudal lord speech, it usually gets translated to something like “you’re getting in my way” or “get out of here” or even “you’re a burden” (my least favourite).

Here, it’s creatively translated as “interloper”! A great way of sneaking in some archaic english while deftly handling a classically difficult-to-translate word.

コタロー：「わらわは写真が大の苦手なのだ」 “I am ill-disposed to having my picture taken!”

Here we have a slightly longer sentence which shows us a bit more of Kotaro’s unusual speech pattern. He uses the archaic first-person pronoun わらわ（妾）and often ends his sentences in なのだ. なのだ is not a particularly odd grammar structure to use, but it is unusual to use it unabbreviated (i.e. not shortening it to なんだ and/or adding よ to the end) especially when using it in speech rather than in writing. Not abbreviating it (as would be expected in a formal situation), but immediately contrasting that formality with the informal だ rather than です causes the speech to sound archaic without actually using any archaic vocabulary.

Now, if this show only translated the old-timey speech pattern well, I’d still call it a good translation. But the attention to detail and focus on natural sounding language extends to the other characters too!

Let’s take a look at an example of Karino’s speech. This is from ep 3; we already know a fair bit about who he is - a manga artist who doesn’t leave the house much (mostly works from home), usually wears comfortable clothes around, leaves things til the last minute and is generally a pretty lazy guy. I say this because the following translation doesn’t “work” (that is, the english and japanese wouldn’t mean the same thing) if it was spoken by a different kind of character.

phone rings 狩野：「担当さんかー」 “Oh great, it’s my editor” 狩野：「お疲れ様です、狩野です。… はい … 今日原稿を？はい、わかりました。じゃあ、後で」 “Hello, this is Karino. How may I help you? … Yes … Wait. Now, now? … Uh-huh, yes. Okay, thank you, I’ll be there soon.” コタロー：「どこか行くのか？」 “Do you need to go somewhere?” 狩野：「仕事。出版社に行く。今回もダメ出しされんのかな？」 “Yeah, I gotta go to work. There goes my day. … I’m sure he’ll just rip it apart like he always does.” 狩野：「あの人結構グサグサ刺さる事言うんだよなぁ」 “The way he criticises, it’s actually pretty hurtful.”

I really like this translation, it feels very clever and results in very natural sounding english. I said this wouldn’t work for a different character, but I think even for the same character, this translation wouldn’t work on ep 1 - the audience wouldn’t have the context for the translation to omit the specific words it does and get away with it.

For example, the line 「今日原稿を？」 directly refers to a manga draft, but the draft isn’t directly referred to in the english. But it ends up being ok, because we can infer that he’s handing in some sort of draft for review from a later line (”I’m sure he’ll just rip it apart…”). Also, 「出版社に行く」 directly states that he’s going to the publishing house, but the english simply refers to it as “work”. But we can infer this too - he’s going to see his editor, and since most of his work is drawing and writing, which he does at home, we know that when he says he’s “going to work”, he’s actually going to the publishing offices.

Prioritising the natural sound of the script over the specific details is a bold choice that really pays off, imo. This is some of the most natural english I’ve ever seen in an anime translation. I recommend checking it out if you’re interested!

[adragonsfriend]

Ways to Write a Meaningful AO3 Comment…

…or frankly, a comment on any writing or artwork where your primary goal is to encourage and appreciate the creator.

It occurs to me that comments are a mini writing task, I have been a writing tutor, and if I’m going to ramble about how not to form communities and have meaningful interactions on the internet, I could maybe also help make it a little easier.

This post is written on the assumption that people want to interact, but struggle for whatever reason: nervous, tired, didn’t realize comments meant that much, can’t think of what to say. I myself spent years at a time on ao3 not commenting on literally anything—something about stones in glass houses. But in my experience, while getting comments on my own fics is kind of my favourite, leaving the kind of comment I know I would cherish—and sometimes getting replies from authors replying to my comments and actually chatting with them—is pretty damn magical too.

In that spirit, this post is henceforth a how-to, not an argument, and I’m not going to address anything to do with bad faith comments. I’m gonna try and provide some structures and simple formats to start comments from. I cannot emphasise enough, these are all intended to be used from a place of sincerity. Tools for finding and formatting the appreciation which is already in your brain, just hiding from you.

That said, we’re gonna take this in stages—

1. The Chapter Kudos

“Chapter kudos,” a little “<3,” an “I loved this,” or similar simple expressions of warmth and enthusiasm, slapped on a oneshot or each chapter of a long fic. These are a nice small gesture that lets the author know you’re here and you’re still loving the fic. Not every author is in love with the these type of very short comments, but unless they have a specific note about it, they’re almost certainly glad for the knowledge you’re still reading. This is minimal—great for days or weeks when you’re tired, low effort, can’t think of shit to say about a particular chapter, and so on. Comments, like all tasks, must be allowed to vary in intensity with available energy and time.

2. The 1-2 sentences

A one or two sentence comment. Here, a combination of a general compliment: “this was amazing,” and a specific compliment: “character A’s dialogue felt so realistic” works really well.

General compliments are typically easier to come up with:

What an awesome chapter!

Wow ok I did not see that coming—

I fucking. Love. Your writing.

This was so exciting!

I screamed when I saw this updated

Maybe a little over the top, but you get the idea—it’s hard to go wrong with these.

Specific compliments are often a little harder to come up with, but they generally fall into two categories which are both wonderful: content and writing.

Content includes things like:

I love [character] so much, seeing them in [particular situation] was so fun

Wow there’s so little content for [niche fandom/character/ship/trope] it’s great to see it here

Your idea about [authors headcanon] is so smart—that makes [weird element of canon] make so much sense

I didn’t used to be into [trope/ship] but holy fuck am I convinced now

The point being you’re noting a particular element content of the fic—what and who it’s about—that you loved. These are great because getting really damn excited about a character/trope/headcanon etcetera, really is the heart of fandom.

Writing takes a slightly different tack, and talks about the author’s writing skills—what they do well:

You write such good dialogue, it feels really realistic

Your action scenes are so exciting!

The tone of this chapter was so perfectly creepy—the way you describe [setting/character] gave me the shivers

The spacing you used really fit the piece—it’s a neat way to show the character’s mindset there they’re struggling to think clearly

The combination of a general and specific compliment can make it easier to start writing your comment, while giving you a second to think of your specific thought. It’s simple, but it means a lot to get any kind of specific comment, because it shows the author that you are paying attention to their writing and that you appreciate or relate to them, specifically. These comments are fairly quick to write, but can mean so much.

3. The paragraph

Several sentences long, with a bit more room to explain what you loved. Everything from the 1-2 sentence section applies here too. A general compliment is still a great starting point, and specific compliments are still where we want to end up. The main difference is you’ve got a little more room to talk, and you can take that in a few different directions.

You can talk about one specific compliment for a bit:

I love the way you write dialogue—character A saying “[quote]” was exactly what they would say in that situation. And their banter with character B was incredible, i laughed out loud. The way they both use cursing, but in slightly different ways is fascinating. The way character B does it is…

Or you can go through several different ones quickly:

I love the way you write dialogue—character A saying “[quote]” was exactly what they would say in that situation. The fast dialogue kept the pace up and the whole chapter was so exciting—I loved that you brought up character B and character C’s relationship too, it gets so little attention but I love it…

There’s also room for wider observations and questions (these can also totally go in 1-2 sentence comments, it’s just easier to have a little more substance around them):

Your writing always makes me feel so [feelings]

Wait I’m a little confused did [event] happen the way I think it did, or am I being silly?

Your ideas about [character] are awesome, I love everything you’ve written about them.

I’m so curious, what’s your specific lore on [character/event]?

4. Multiparagraph

Several paragraphs, or a very long paragraph. Hot damn, the author is in love with you now. Either you’ve got a whole lot to say about one specific topic of writing or content, or you’ve got a couple of different topics you want to pay some attention to—as you start writing your comment, you’ll probably discover a few more. Let yourself ramble, make bullet points, just get your thoughts out, if you have this many. All the principles from before apply: general compliments, specific compliments, wider observations, questions—all of these can easily feature in a long comment.

5. Fuck Formating

Write comments in whatever format works for you. Bullet points, google translated into the necessary language, rambling, well organized, short, long, emojis, copy-pasting your favorite quote from the fic with an exclamation point, pre-formatted general compliments, whatever will get your thoughts and enthusiasm down.

If you are communicating, the format doesn’t matter all that much. The same information from a multi paragraph comment can be done in bullet points or by quoting. Whatever communication you do will be meaningful to the author.

It’s hard to go wrong—

Like most writing, making meaningful comments and picking out those specific compliments gets easier with practice. There’s no need to write multiparagraph comments all the time. Those 1-2 sentence ones can be full of so much love, and chapter kudos are sometimes all there’s energy for.

The most important writing advice ever in my opinion is this: you have interesting things to say. About yourself, about the world, about writing, about that damn fanfic.

Go forth and use the structures above, or come up with comments I couldn’t even dream of. Whatever you do, you will find fic authors are probably the most willing and grateful audience in the whole world.

[doggendoodle]

It's especially interested how bad the Minecraft movie feels when you compare it to other video game movies nowadays.

Like. For example, the Mario movie in concept was simple. Adapt the basic structure of what a Mario platformer is (person gets kidnapped and Mario saves them) with Mario's alternate backstory of being from Brooklyn as an excuse to make him an easier viewpoint character. And Super Mario is THE video game franchise so it's an easy money grab.

Except they didn't make an easy money grab. They made a kid's movie that respected the kids who play the games, they made references to the games and incorporated them into the movie in a way that enhanced the story, and they did this while still understanding the spirit of the franchise.

Mario and DK being rivals but still coming together to fight a greater evil. The Bros.' relationship being the emotional core of the movie. Bowser being portrayed perfectly as a goofy yet still threatening villain. They even incorporated Mario Kart into the story without it feeling tacked on. They took the world of Mario seriously and treated it with respect - they made a world that's goofy and charming but still lived-in, without making it edgy or "realistic" just to "appeal" to adults.

Most people apologising to Minecraft Story Mode are probably doing it as a joke, but like. They already understood this and worked through it. Even in the first game which features a grand adventure, the adventurers are people from the world of Minecraft, and the epic invasion was a horror unleashed by accident, like the Wither it's based on.

Later episodes and seasons play more into the inherent fantastical elements of Minecraft, with the Far Lands and the End as eldritch, alien places. They also reference the community aspects of Minecraft: power-hungry server admins, fan-created games like Spleef, fantastical redstone contraptions, even the Minecraft YouTuber murder mystery.

And even being a movie instead of an episodic game isn't an automatic death sentence - hell, if you really wanted to stick to the base game of Minecraft, you could showcase the joy of exploration that is a much more common and more core experience than big epic boss fights.

That moment in the trailer, where there's a log floating in the broken tree and the boy reaches out for it? The one at the start where they're looking around at the world and the camera lets us see the surroundings? Those are great moments, because that's how it feels to play Minecraft. I've seen and heard kids play the game, I know that's still how they experience it. If you're going to make it into an epic, make it into an epic journey and show off the world. The vistas we've seen do genuinely look gorgeous, like someone transplanted

Even the visual design plays into this. The weirdly realistic mobs Detective Pikachu/Sonic style do not work. Detective Pikachu still looks uncanny to me, but the world of Pokémon is meant to be similar to the human world, and Pokémon are meant to be animals. The world of Sonic is Earth, and the redone design for Sonic and the other animal characters is beautiful; it really does feel like Sonic exists in a world overlaid on ours, more fantastical but still in reach.

The Minecraft movie trying to have its blocky cake and eat it too just feels like a shoddy compromise. The wolf howling at the moon doesn't look epic or awe-inspiring, it looks bad - in fact it's not even on model. They deliberately made it look blockier, for some reason. The invading piglins have realistic armour, and clothes, but their bodies are desperately trying to fit the voxel shapes and it all feels at odds. And of course the pink sheep and llama look god awful.

Combined with the human characters being Regular Humans, it feels more like some random friend group making a home movie than a fucking big budget production - and honestly, it loses some of the fun and appeal of portal fantasy.

I will say, it does look like they will visit the Nether at some point.

[ID: screenshot from the trailer. The scene is dark and lit by lava waterfalls originating above the frame, but the scenery resembles a Bastion. There are several piglins staring at the young male main character, whose head is peeking into frame. End ID]

Given they're shooting for the "marauding piglin" angle it's probably too much to ask, but the scene cuts away at this point instead of transitioning into that standard shot where all the mobs roar at the main character, so part of me is hoping that maybe this scene won't be at the climax, and we'll get to actually experience the piglins as nuanced mobs.

[creekwritersblood]

HOW TO DEVELOP YOUR OWN WRITING STYLE

Writing maybe is one of the most personal ways of communicating and because of this, it Writing is perhaps one of the most personal ways of communicating and for this reason, it enable us to share our ideas, our feelings and our experiences.

Writing we can express our personalities and share some of the most important elements of our lives with the rest of the World. But this process requires a lot and is never easy. The process to find our own style is long and requires a lot of writing, deleting and writing again and again to get ours.

Following some of the advices I follow myself:

Read Widely: It will help you to improve vocabulary and your writing style. Reading through a lot of different genres and things will help you to develop yourself and your capabilities to write.

Write Regularly: Ensure yourself to write down something every day, it doesn’t matter if it’s a journal, a review of your fave book, an article, a blog, those things will help you a lot in your search to find out what is your own voice in the writing market. E

Experiment: Is like to go in a clothing store, you need to try out different clothes before to find out which one you will buy, with the writing is the same. Write different things, poetry, horror, thriller, doesn’t matter, but try to write in so many different genres, this will give you back Knowledge about your fave genre, the style that fits you more and what works better for you. Some writers prefers to write short stories instead of Novels and that’s perfectly fine, give yourself a chance with those too.

Embrace Your Authenticity: As a human being you have opinions and ideas, for this your writing will mirror your own thoughts, ideas and will be an extension of your own.

Seek Feedback: Find beta readers to have a feedback on your own book, they can be friends, family, strangers, whatever you like. Constructive feedbacks can give you the opportunity to improve yourself and refine your own way of writing finding your place among the others. Also it can be a good thing to join writing groups to find support, advices and develop your own.

Edit and Revise: Writing requires time and refinement continuously, after writing a piece take your own time to revise it and correct it. Pay attention to your own words choice, sentence structure, grammar, everything. Use synonyms when is needed and be faithful to the Story you chose to portrait.

Stay True to Yourself: Never mimic other writers work, be true to yourself, stick with yourself as a writer. Writing sincerely and truthfully will give you a better credibility and will feel better for you to write it and will give the reader a unique and authentical experience reading your stories. Develop your own style is a process of self knowledge, is long, full of stops and restarts and most of all is a growing process.

Remember fellow writer, there are no ways to write right or wrong, the only thing that matters is to find yourself and be true to yourself when you do it!

[thessalian]

Thess vs Pronouns

The bigots are still coming out of the woodwork about Veilguard, because of course they are. And of course, it's the exact same bitching as happened with Baldur's Gate 3, with added "OMG TOP SURGERY SCARS" for flavour. But the dumbest part is "pronouns". Because ... like, I'mma do an Inigo Montoya here: "You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means".

Like, "I'm not a fan of pronouns and I won't use them".

You just did. Twice at minimum. Third if you see "them" as a pronoun rather than a determiner in that sentence.

What you mean is, "I'm not a fan of being told what pronouns you want me to use and would prefer to gender you how I see fit".

Fuck's sake, you're so proud of your bigotry, own it. Just say, "I don't give a shit what you want to call yourself; I refuse". If you feel like that makes you the bad guy? Well ... then maybe you should rethink.

And if you really are that stupid as to think that pronouns are in and of themselves evil? Well, you're stuck with using the nouns over and over, and ... how do you refer to yourself without using a pronoun? Like, "I" is a pronoun. "Me" is a pronoun. You can't even use the royal "we" there, because "we" is a pronoun. You're stuck referring to yourself in the third person constantly. Like, "Thess says that Thess is done with bigoted fuckbiscuits" ... and you're suddenly not attached to the sentence anymore. Because in a world without pronouns, you're talking like you aren't you. Because "you" is a pronoun too.

These people aren't really advocating for the removal of an entire chunk of grammatical rule. They can't be, unless they got a shittier grade in English grammar than I did. They just want a shorthand for their bigotry that doesn't actually qualify as an outright admission of their bigotry. They want to skirt around it by making "pronouns" evil, just like they did with "woke" or "DEI". But it doesn't work the same way because "woke" and "DEI" aren't an integral part of the language.

I almost feel sorry for the twerps who hold these gender-essentialist beliefs and speak language with gendered determiners. When your language genders "the", you really can't just say, "I don't agree with determiners", because "the" is kind of ubiquitous.

Look, I literally flunked English grammar in 9th grade. Not my fault - my background for learning grammar was in French, and my 9th grade English teacher hated my guts because among other things, I flagged up that Shakespeare wasn't trying to speak to the ages in his writing but literally just trying to entertain and get butts in seats so he could eat, and he refused to help me with any of my issues with grammar. I could write a grammatically correct sentence no problem, but I struggled with some of the terms for the grammatical rules and how they were used in general, because all the theory I'd learned was for French, where sentences are constructed in a different order than in English about half the time. Anyway, I picked up a little more of the theory by studying it on my own after I got away from asshole 9th grade English teacher, but I'm still the person who flunked 9th grade English grammar and I still know more about sentence structure than these jackasses. That or they're perfectly willing to sacrifice any kind of decent sentence structure and their own intellectual reputation in the cause of being bigots without having to admit that they're bigots.

Also, if you need to think about the contents of someone's pants just to address them in a sentence, you're a creep and a pervert and you need to stay away from me.

(I mean the general 'you', by the way; I know no one who follows me is Like That. But if by some chance you are Like That and found my blog somehow, a message: if you won't address people by their chosen pronouns because you're a bigot and a pervert, I will be addressing you by "fuck / off". Thank you, and have the day you deserve.)

[mistype360]

mbti/enneagram typing for @eheu-vae-mihi

enneagram: 3w4 so/sp 8w9 7w6 387

straight off the bat, the fear of not living up to standards suggests you're somewhere in the competency triad (1-3-5). this is also why you seem to detach a lot from your emotions. struggling with introspection and trying to work through things logically is very similar to what someone in that triad would experience. you seem much more like a 3/5, as a 1 would focus more on being morally perfect. so3>5, as 5's don't seem to care about the guidelines for success set by society as you mention ("getting a good job", "earning money"...).

your wing for the 3 wasn't too strong, and was pretty balanced between 4 and 2. usually when this happens, it means that the wing is a countertype (meaning, the specific subtypes defies the stereotype/general description). between sp2 and sp4, the way you almost internalize/repress emotions was more fitting towards a sp4. this, on top of your answer to dealing with shame, which was very much internalized.

the part about wanting to make a strong impact on the world gives feeling in mbti mixed with e3, with a little hint of 8. the 8 is especially seen in your descriptions of anger (many ppl think 8's are feral angry rats but most of them relate to your exact answer). being fiercely protective of those around you is epitome of so8, plus the fact that you hate being controlled by others .

for your 8, 9 fits perfectly especially with how you don't find yourself being good at self-reflection. also with how you aren't too sure of where you want to go, suggesting you struggle with identity like a 9 would.

something that really solidified the strength of this fix was how when your at your lows, you find yourself worried about things, feeling worthless, and feeling life has lost it's meaning, which is how a 3 and 9 would disintegrate.

your 9 and 8 seem pretty balanced. i don't think that you're either a 9w8 or 8w9 tbh, because you seem to use them in a way that is complementary to each other- not really that one is stronger than the other. but since your mbti is an entp it made most sense to type you as 8w9.

lastly, for the final fix of your tritype, i notice you mention you want to do things w/o worrying about repercussions, which is pretty similar to how an e7 would function. most of the reasons for giving you this fix were slightly sprinkled throughout your questionnaire, there wasn't an exact answer that led me to it. some sentences gave me the impressions that you do value gaining experiences, while also slightly 'security" focused, like a 7w6 would be. an example would be your curiosity answer about preventing a big situation in the real world from happening, which was small, but still pretty e6.

mbti: entp

imo, the way you structure your answers suggests a lot of ne. you consider a lot of possibilities in the way you respond to certain questions, which is something a high ne user would usually do. in my experience people who say "it depends" a lot are usually a mix of ne and ti.

maybe it's my washy speculation, or maybe the intent was to add more info?? either way, this wasn't the only reason i gave you this typing.

i'm honestly too lazy to format so i'm just going to list reasons why you seem high in ne and ti that i noticed:

you're curious about "why and how" things work

you think "the past is gone, no use clinging to it" and think the future is "what we want it to be"

🚪🚶is the se/ni in the room with us?

values logical consistency

the future "is moulded by our visions"

challenging authority by own ideas

there are moments where you do value efficiency and seem to like having a sense of concreteness in certain things, but imo that's more attributed to your 8 fix rather than simply just te.

you also do seem to show slight se, especially through learning things with application. but i don't think that this se necessarily trumps your ne. i think your enneagram explains why you display some stronger sensory traits (having all 3, 6, and 9 in your tritype def proves it), but again, looking back to your cores fixes, it points much more to entp.

[modernconstructive]

A Beginner’s Guide to GFRP Rebar: Everything You Need to Know

Picture this. You are driving over a bridge. It is a structure that seems to stretch forever over the sea. The waves crash below relentlessly, salty. What you cannot see is the steel rebar inside the concrete accumulating rust. The corrosion creeps deeper with the formation of cracks. Repairs are needed. Then more repairs. Eventually, a full replacement.

But what if it didn’t have to be that way? What if the material reinforcing that bridge didn’t rust? What if it could stand up to salt, water, chemicals—even time itself?

That’s where Glass Fiber Reinforced Polymer (GFRP) rebar comes in. This guide is here to give you everything you need to know about this incredible material that’s changing how we think about construction.

What Is GFRP Rebar?

Think of GFRP rebar as the upgrade steel has been waiting for. It’s made from glass fibers and polymer resin—two materials that don’t care about rust, saltwater, or chemicals. Together, they create a lightweight, tough material that reinforces concrete without the constant maintenance headaches steel brings.

Here’s how it works: manufacturers align glass fibers to maximize strength, then coat them in resin to hold it all together. What is the result? A rebar that is strong as well as immune to the elements.

It is not just for fancy projects. GFRP rebar is already being used in bridges, tunnels, seawalls, parking garages.

Why GFRP Rebar Is Changing the Game? 

1. Rust Is a Thing of the Past

Steel rebar rusts. Everyone knows it, and yet we’ve relied on it for decades, patching up the damage as we go. GFRP doesn’t rust. Ever. Not when it’s soaked in saltwater. Not when it’s doused with chemicals.

Imagine the impact of rebars battered by ocean spray. No rust means no cracks as well as no endless cycles of repair.

2. Lightweight and Labor-Friendly

Steel is a heavy metal. It is expensive to transport, hard to handle, and a pain to install. GFRP, on the other hand, is about a quarter the weight.

Construction crews notice the difference right away. It’s easier to carry, quicker to position, and doesn’t leave workers drained by the end of the day. Lighter materials also mean fewer transportation costs. It is not just the workers who benefit—your budget does too.

3. Strong Enough to Handle the Pressure

The answer is yes if you are wondering whether GFRP can hold its own. It might be lightweight. However, it is built to take serious loads. Its tensile strength is impressive. The strength matches or even exceeds steel.

This kind of reliability is a must for extensive projects. GFRP rebar does not just hold the line—it redefines it.

4. Non-Conductive as well as Non-Magnetic

Specific projects need materials that would not interfere with electrical or magnetic systems. Think power plants, MRI labs, or tunnels carrying sensitive wiring. Steel’s conductivity can cause big problems in these situations. GFRP, being non-conductive and non-magnetic, fits the bill perfectly.

It’s the kind of solution you don’t think about until you need it. But when you do, there’s nothing else like it.

Where You’ll Find GFRP Rebar Making a Difference? 

Coastal and Marine Construction

The ocean is beautiful, but it’s brutal on steel. Saltwater, constant moisture, and the wear-and-tear of waves break steel down faster than you’d think. GFRP rebar solves this.

It’s a natural choice for seawalls, docks, piers, and offshore platforms. Builders trust it to hold up in places where steel simply can’t compete. And the result? Structures that stay strong, year after year, without the endless upkeep.

Roads and Bridges

Roads as well as bridges face a barrage of de-icing salts in winter months. These salts may keep us safe from icy conditions. However, they are a death sentence for steel. The rusting begins. The maintenance bills start piling up.

GFRP rebar eliminates this problem. It doesn’t just survive in these conditions—it thrives. That means fewer cracks as well as safer infrastructure for everyone.

Underground Projects

Building underground is a challenge. You’re dealing with moisture, chemicals, and sometimes the need to avoid electrical interference. Steel struggles here, but GFRP excels.

From subway tunnels to utility corridors, GFRP rebar provides the strength and resilience these projects need without the complications steel can bring.

Industrial Facilities

Factories and chemical plants push materials to their limits. Steel, when exposed to aggressive chemicals, doesn’t stand a chance. GFRP rebar, on the other hand, is built for these environments.

It holds up against chemical exposure, ensuring that industrial facilities remain safe and operational. For engineers designing in extreme conditions, GFRP is a trusted partner.

How GFRP Stacks Up Against Steel? 

Rust and Corrosion: Steel rusts in wet or salty environments; GFRP doesn’t. It’s as simple as that.

Weight: GFRP is significantly lighter, making it easier to handle and transport.

Lifespan Costs: While GFRP costs more upfront, it saves money over time by reducing maintenance and repair needs.

Specialized Applications: GFRP’s non-conductive and corrosion-resistant properties make it perfect for unique projects that steel just can’t handle.

If your priority is long-term durability and minimal maintenance, GFRP wins every time.

Tips for Installing GFRP Rebar

Switching to GFRP isn’t complicated, but there are a few things to keep in mind:

Cutting Tools: Use diamond-blade saws for smooth, clean cuts. Regular tools for steel won’t work.

Tying: Stick with plastic or coated tie wires. Metal ties can damage GFRP or introduce issues over time.

Handle with Care: While GFRP is strong, it can be scratched if mishandled. Treat it gently during transport and installation.

Training: Make sure your crew understands how GFRP works. A little knowledge upfront can prevent big mistakes later.

With these tips, GFRP installation is straightforward and efficient.

Building for a Better Future

Every construction project leaves a legacy. GFRP rebar helps ensure that legacy lasts. By resisting rust, lowering maintenance needs, and standing strong in harsh conditions, it’s helping to create infrastructure that serves communities for generations.

It’s not just about saving money or building faster—it’s about peace of mind. When you choose GFRP, you’re choosing materials that work as hard as the people who build with them.

Conclusion

GFRP rebar isn’t just a replacement for steel—it’s an upgrade. Whether you’re building bridges, protecting coastlines, or reinforcing tunnels, it offers strength, durability, and a future free from rust and constant repairs.

In a world where infrastructure faces more challenges than ever, GFRP rebar stands out as a material built to last. If you want structures that endure, it’s time to make the switch. Because the only thing better than building strong is building smarter.

[assorted-sekai-projects]

⛔️✅🎶

For the fic writing ask game

🍊Mod Orange speaking

⛔️: Something I try to avoid in my writing - Content-wise, anything sexually explicit. Even if I wasn't writing mostly about teenage characters (and I do have plans to extend my writing beyond the projects just on this blog), I have a bit of a bad history with stumbling my way down those rabbit holes when I was younger. I let myself make hints and jokes, though.

Regarding my writing technique, I get a little too hyper-vigilant about making sure my sentences don't have similar structure. I see myself write a whole paragraph that's just entirely "sentence part 1 - comma - part 2" and i agonize over how to make it feel more interesting to physically read, even if the flow of each individual sentence is perfectly fine and messing with one of them makes it a little bit individually worse.

✅️: Favorite line(s) and explanation - fuck, this is a hard one. Most of my favorite single dramatic lines have a paragraph of wind-up into a final moment of impact or call back to something anywhere from a few paragraphs to a chapter or two before, and I don't know if that counts. I suppose I'll pick out one of those as well as a quick, punchy one-liner from a more comedic moment.

But her cry for help comes out as an animalistic howl, something too easily confused with a battle cry. Her father starts flailing his arms wildly, letting out a battle cry of his own; scattered screams pound her ears, and the same gentle man who told her that she was strong enough to do anything she wanted in life is trying to make himself seem like the most threatening thing in the world.

Minori staggers back, looking at her mother’s face instead. It’s filled with terror as her eyes dart between Minori and something behind her. She turns to follow her mother’s gaze, and realises she’s put herself between the two of them and her brother.

They don’t recognize her. They don’t trust her. 

They don’t want her here.

This is one of the lines I really like from my werewolf fic, Adoption // Infection. It’s the final moment of high-emotion impact after Minori's first transformation as a werewolf in chapter 3. before this, she goes through the physical horror of transforming from human to wolf and the self-reflective horror of realizing she can't recognize herself and she feels less than human as a result. This little bit at the end where she experiences the social horror of being shunned once she's perceived as a threat. It's like a combo meal at a burger joint, but every part of the meal is a gut punch. I love the hurt half of hurt/comfort, and this sets the tone leading into the next part of the chapter where she finds a little bit of community for herself.

“Woah, I’m more lightheaded than I thought. Can we stop by the vending machines so I can re-up my blood sugar?”

“I don’t think any amount of sugar could help with the way it tastes, but sure.”

"Hey!"

This little blip is the button at the end of a chapter where a vampire drinks blood from someone, and it tastes like hot garbage instead of normal blood. In that fic, Your Love is a Drug, I've really enjoyed setting up little expectations with the urban fantasy stuff, or even just normal writing beats, and turning them upside down.

🎶: Do you write with music, and does that influence your writing - Sometimes I put on music when I'm writing, just to keep my brain stimulated and pushing to do something, but I try not to let the music influence my writing all that much. If my shuffle rolls up with a song where I have thoughts about unrelated characters, it gets a little distracted, so I guess that counts? I haven't written much that really fits with the particular songs I have character thoughts about, and my disdain for putting a single song on loop overpowers my brainrot, so I probably won't do it even when I get around to those story beats.

[freenewsreport]

Palworld Activeunko: Unraveling the Language of Fun, Expression, and Grammar!

Ever wondered how language can be both playful and clear at the same time? That's where Palworld Activeunko comes in! Whether you're chatting casually with friends or trying to craft a well-structured piece of writing, Palworld Activeunko helps you strike the perfect balance between creativity and clarity. Through idiomatic expressions and smooth transitions, your thoughts can flow without confusion.

What Is Palworld Activeunko?

Before we get too deep, let's tackle the big question—what exactly is Palworld Activeunko? Well, imagine it as a playful, imaginative approach to language that keeps everything fun yet functional. You know how your favorite conversations just seem to flow naturally, even when you're jumping from topic to topic? That’s the magic of Palworld Activeunko! It captures the essence of communication in a way that feels lighthearted and easy to follow.

More than just a quirky term, Palworld Activeunko represents the art of making conversations engaging and smooth. Whether you're sprinkling idiomatic expressions or transitioning between thoughts, this concept helps keep everything connected and, most importantly, interesting.

Why Idiomatic Expressions Are Essential

Speaking of expressions, let’s talk about idiomatic expressions! These little phrases are the spice of everyday language. Think about how often we use sayings like, “It’s a piece of cake” or “Break the ice.” We all know they don’t mean what they literally say, but that’s what makes them fun! With Palworld Activeunko, idiomatic expressions become part of the toolkit for making your conversations lively.

These expressions allow you to express complex ideas simply and in a way that's easy for others to understand. Let’s look at a few popular idiomatic expressions that fit perfectly into the Palworld Activeunko way of speaking:

"Under the weather" – Feeling sick or down? This is the perfect phrase to use when you want to express it in a subtle, friendly way.

"Hit the nail on the head" – When you get something exactly right, nothing says it better than this idiom!

"A blessing in disguise" – Something that seems bad at first, but turns out to be good? This expression captures that surprise perfectly.

With idiomatic expressions, you’re not just communicating—you’re painting pictures with words!

Transitional Phrases: The Unsung Heroes

Ever wonder how some people can move seamlessly from one idea to another? It’s all thanks to transitional phrases. They’re the bridges that connect your thoughts, ensuring your message flows smoothly from one point to the next. Imagine trying to drive across a river without a bridge—it would be chaotic, right? That’s exactly what transitional phrases prevent.

Here’s a quick list of some transitional phrases you can use to keep your speech and writing on track:

"For instance" – Perfect for introducing examples and illustrating your point.

"On the other hand" – When you need to introduce a contrasting idea.

"As a result" – This phrase helps you highlight the consequences of an action or decision.

Palworld Activeunko loves a smooth conversation, and transitional phrases are key to maintaining that flow. Without them, your ideas would just feel disjointed.

Avoiding Dangling Modifiers

Now, let’s tackle one of the trickiest elements of grammar: dangling modifiers. They’re sneaky little errors that can trip up even the best of writers. A dangling modifier happens when a descriptive phrase doesn’t clearly link to the word it’s supposed to modify. It leads to awkward (and sometimes hilarious) sentences.

Here’s an example:

"After running for the bus, the coffee spilled on my shirt." Who’s running—the coffee? Oops! That’s a classic dangling modifier. Here’s how Palworld Activeunko can help you fix it:

"After running for the bus, I spilled coffee on my shirt."

With Palworld Activeunko at your side, you’ll avoid these embarrassing mistakes and keep your sentences crystal clear.

Palworld Activeunko and Informal Language

What’s great about Palworld Activeunko is how effortlessly it fits into casual conversations. Whether you’re texting a friend or telling a funny story, informal language gives your words personality. You don’t always need to speak like a grammar textbook—sometimes, breaking the rules a little makes things more interesting!

Using contractions like “can’t” or “won’t,” throwing in exclamations (“Wow!” “Oh no!”), and asking rhetorical questions keeps things lively. And Palworld Activeunko makes sure that even when you bend the rules, everything still makes sense.

The Power of Palworld Activeunko in Storytelling

Ever notice how some stories pull you in right away? That’s Palworld Activeunko in action! It’s the secret sauce that makes narratives fun to read and easy to follow. Whether you're crafting an epic fantasy or sharing an anecdote about your day, Palworld Activeunko guides you in choosing the right idioms, transitions, and sentence structures that make your tale compelling.

Imagine telling a story about a surprise birthday party:

"It was a typical Friday, or so I thought. Little did I know, my friends had been planning behind my back all week!" See how the flow keeps you engaged? That’s the Palworld Activeunko approach, keeping everything connected and exciting.

Palworld Activeunko and Social Media

In today’s world, we communicate just as much through posts, tweets, and status updates as we do through conversation. So, it’s essential that Palworld Activeunko works in the digital space, too. Whether you’re writing a funny tweet or crafting a heartfelt Instagram caption, the principles of Palworld Activeunko—idiomatic expressions, transitional phrases, and avoiding grammar traps—keep your posts punchy and memorable.

For example, let’s say you want to share your thoughts on a new game:

"Playing this game felt like being a kid again—it was a rollercoaster of emotions, and I couldn’t put it down!" This casual yet descriptive style, complete with idiomatic expressions and a smooth flow, makes your message more engaging.

Conclusion: Why Palworld Activeunko Matters

In a world where language is constantly evolving, Palworld Activeunko stands out as a guide to keeping your conversations and writing fun, relatable, and clear. Whether you're using idiomatic expressions to add flavor, transitional phrases to keep things smooth, or avoiding grammatical slip-ups, Palworld Activeunko ensures you’re always on top of your game.

Remember, language doesn’t have to be stiff or boring—it can be as lively and enjoyable as you want it to be! So, go ahead and embrace Palworld Activeunko in all your writing and speaking endeavors. Your words will thank you for it!

[aahsoka]

I just need to address this One section. Everything else I generally agree with but 20s fashion did not exclude corsetry. It just transformed into a different shape, focused on compressing the bust and hips. This also supports the idea that this wasn’t a deliberate move to make women thinner, because at this time it was still normal to use shape-wear to achieve a silhouette instead of modifying your body. Here are some examples of what a ‘corset’ looked like in the 20s (though there were quite a few other types of undergarments in this time):

You also. left out an entire sentence from that smithsonian quote that acknowledges that shape-wear was used (though clearly these ‘tubes’ were not always elastic or unboned as we see above and I disagree strongly with how they decided to word this; a “structured version of spanx” doesn’t actually sound more “freeing” than a corset? + Women could breathe perfectly fine in corsets… etc)

OP’s ideas definitely stem from the myth that the 20s got rid of corsetry, as no one with a naturally curvy body could achieve that boyish silhouette without it. So what can you assume except that women were modifying their bodies if you are also assuming they no longer used shape-wear? Arguably, it was the shorter, looser skirts that allowed for more mobility (as opposed to certain belle epoque styles like the hobble skirt, for example, though I don’t think its useful to view 20s fashion as a full rejection of previous trends; there were some fashion ideas that started in the 1900s-1910s that stayed and it was more of a gradual change. Skirts included) or things like the use of spiral steeled boning in shape-wear like in the advertisement above. Certain kinds of undergarments were less restrictive but some were more restrictive, and it would depend on your natural body type which kind you might choose to achieve this look. We still haven’t technically stopped using shape-wear ever, we have just at some point turned to modifying our natural bodies being the more acceptable method of fitting the fashionable shape.

Most women’s fashion trends were mainly driven by women. Men hated hourglass corsets (which were not necessarily constricting unless you wanted them to be; women worked while wearing stays/corsets/etc for centuries) and crinolines when they were in fashion too! I heavily agree that what women wear is generally not a big patriarchal conspiracy. There are certainly times when it intersects with patriarchy, but it is not typically an explicit function of the clothing. I believe acknowledging shapewear/corsetry as not being extremely restrictive garments (“forced on women by the patriarchy”) is vital to making this argument.

I cannot copy the link but if you’re curious about 1920s undergarments Nicole Rudolph has a great comprehensive video on them called “How Flappers Got Their Figure: the 1920s Silhouette” on youtube.

The fact that thinness came in vogue (as seen in popular culture, magazines, fashion models, etc.) in the 1920s when women got the right to vote is telling. We got real, tangible power and then were told to be thin to achieve beauty, and sickly thin too. The kind of thin with no muscles, no power. It is not surprising to me that our beauty standards keep women physically weaker, physically starving, and mentally exhausted. The beauty standard is nothing more than a tool to keep women weak, docile, poor, and too tired to act.

[jonathankatwhatever]

This is almost too delicious. It’s 26 Mar 2024, and the part change I made last night filtered into my process this morning. The impulse was obvious: take a look and see if I still looked good to myself, knowing there would be some change. As I was working through the alternatives, and sometimes cursing my thinned hair as I uncovered the max of what I look like with as little hair as could fit this length for the sides and back. I have been working toward something in the middle, I think, because long hair is a bother for me, can’t stop playing with it, worrying about it. That’s a detail in Storyline, that Jo grows out her hair before, following those impulses generated by the identification with G. And I like playing with my hair somewhat, so too short is too far, and would be replaced by other worries about my appearance. These may be more annoying than the ones I experience now.

At some point in this I suddenly realized this was me in the mirror when I was young. The same discussions. The same back and forth. The same worrying. The same fracturing of perspective into perspectives: this is me, but not if I look at me like this, and then this is me because that’s the state I can visualize as an End, rather than the transitional states where I may look stellar to myself, where I may be carrying the pose off perfectly in my eyes, however I am actually doing it in the room. In the xyR. That’s a good one: the conception of an xyR is that there’s an Actuality occurring within a gsSpace. It’s a room because that draws boundaries to and from the Actuality. Like no one but you know what goes on in the room, but others have ideas about it. Imagine a child in a room and it’s easy to see how a parent comes in and out, and how the connection to that room exists when the parent is not physically there. That visualizes an xyR well: the Actuality is whatever is within that Room and whatever connects to that Room, meaning it also serves as a memory store. It is xyR to reference this is gsSpace.

The construction of gsSpace should now be getting obvious. Take a look at the M-set: it is all the complex values which converge to 0 when the process is to take that complex number square it, add the number to that result and square it, over and over. That is making grid squares at each level. And those are the grid squares which - this is the difficult part, right? Getting out what the process itself means - draw a path to and from that point to 0.

Now comes the super challenging part: how do I express what that 0 means in terms of twisting K’s? Oh here is a good place to note the K notation uses the small k notation for iteration up to a certain amount and capitalizes it to indicate grid squares. Grid squares are constructions up to a certain amount. This includes infinite series since we use n-1 as K. You know, I’ve never thought about that and maybe this is a good detour so I can avoid thinking about the hard question. The n and k and n and K switch is fundamental to D-structure.

I’m trying to pull up the infinite process and finite results conversations. I believe that sentence suffices: the idea is that the creation or generation of gs is an infinite process, which we describe (and here a bunch of words appear, like from a book), and the products of those processes is necessarily finite. I just realized that really is true because we construct D3-4 and D4-3, meaning the directional movement of D-structure building up from and into D4 as D4 builds up and onto D3. That onto signifies the direction of motivation. So a complicated Thing has D4 effects internally from external application within the larger Thing.

These all express through the Regularization process. I used to think that would turn out to be the silliest idea in history, which of course means it’s crucial. Dots and dashes. Okay, just saw a connection: the flailing arm works because Triangular appears in the twist which hides that axis. And that occurs in the 0-1-0 gsSpace, to that 0 which is the 1.

Among my many strange thoughts these days of certainty and uncertainty was that we represent the 1 that inherently divides into pieces, meaning the external direction, and that we are trying to communicate better with those that develop within, whose perspective is from within. I can barely believe how comprehensive and yet simple the images have become.

Let’s go back to the M-set. This is difficult. It’s an identity check: are you in or out, converging or diverging? We see the boundaries of converging in the colorings of what is not in the M-set but is close.

Oh gosh, I’m seeing the primal experience of the separation of me from the family. It’s amazing to think I was seeing this as a child and now I can identify how that worked and why it happened. It’s a projective plane level. It’s Attachment. That 0 Attaches to me in the Storyline. And that generates exactly what we’ve described in so many ways.

It gets deeper. The 0 Attaches to me because I’m 2 Things and that reveals the actual mechanics of the connection between 2T as the internalization of the exterior perspective. That also provides the essential Pathways for inspiration. Both good and bad.

I need a break. This is fun and somewhat exhausting. I’m seeing why the Boundary is a Boundary. Very cool.

[whereonceiwasfire]

Alright, I've been musing on The Writing Thing™ and at the request of literally nobody, I'm going to just ramble something I've been thinking about here. Disclaimer: I have one brain cell (and he's a-tired), and I'm pretty much of the mind that like, do what you want. If words are on the page, congrats, you've succeed at writing. That said, here goes, welcome to The Innerworkings of My Brain, and proceed at your own risk.

So, I kind of just think a lot of writing advice ends up boiling down to the fact that writers can get in our own way by trying too hard to convey something very specific to readers. While, of course, part of the point of writing is to paint a specific word picture, I also think there's something to be said for letting that go a little bit. Making your peace with the fact that, most of the time, readers probably aren't going to imagine/picture/experience exactly what you want them to when they're reading. I am 95% sure that every setting, character, or description I have ever read was not intended to look the way they do in my head. Part of that is because I have the attention span of an overcaffeinated hamster and will just picture something immeadiately upon its introduction in the text (and continue to picture that throughout, actual desciptions be damned). But part of that is also because there's ambuiguity in language. And that's okay. Freeing even. Dare I say, kind of magic? The idea that we could all enjoy the same story, go on the same journey, love the same characters, but that, for each person who reads, a new, subtle variation of this experience now exists? It's little universes. And why would you want to stifle that?

How does this apply to writing advice, you ask? So glad you brought that up, since I was getting distacted.

Basically, I feel like so many of those pedantic things that get critqued with writing "shoulds" are naturally addressed when we get more comfortable with ambiguity. For example, take clunky, awkward, or over description. These things tend to be a result of just trying too hard to create a very specific picture in readers' heads. You want them to know exactly what the layout of this room is, precisely what the character looks like, specifically what this random gesture they're making is, definitively what move/attack they just used on their enemy, etc. More often than not (though, again, it's not a one-size-fits-all thing, do what you do, and if it works, it works), I think these awkward/over descriptions tend to be hard to follow and slow the pacing down because we're taking such time to focus on something that probably isn't that necessary to make the story go. And isn't it kind of awesome actually that we can be satisfied with giving vague structure to some of these things, and letting readers fill in the blanks, instead of feeling like the fabric of this reality we're creating will break down if we don't describe things 100% perfectly? If we can't convery exactly what this random, shadowy, wirthing portal into the nether dimension looks like? I don't know, maybe I just think so because I'm lazy.

But truly, I think some of the most powerful descriptions are ones that don't even tell you what exactly you're looking at, it tells you what that Thing makes character Feel. "Her lips were red as cheap merlot and I ached to drink to the dregs", "He looked like too many late nights and a hundred bad decisions", blah blah blah, *insert less tropey and cliche example here.* Regardless, what I'm getting at is that a dozen different readers will probably picture a dozen different shades of red lipstick in that first example, no matter how many sentences you devote to describing it, but that's not really the point, is it? The point is that Character wants to kiss the crap out of them.

Likewise, I think this is part of the reason fight scenes can be such a struggle. You want to show exactly what's going on, how Character A is dodging Character B's attacks, each parry and thrust of the sword, etc., etc. However, a real fight is fast, and adrenaline-fuelled, and disorienting, and ask anyone involved to recount what happened afterward, and they probably won't do a great job of it. You lose so much of that urgency, that confusion, that chaos, when you focus on trying to get readers to imagine exactly the perfectly choreographed fight scene you have plotted out, beat for beat, step for step. Which, like, fair. You put a lot of effort into making that scene exciting and dynamic. But I think a lot of the time that's not the pont of the scene, the point is "omg, they're in a fight!" Giving up some of that control and being free to make a fight scene a bit choatic and overwhelming, focuing on the sensations and the ways this fight impacts Character and Story, is often going to make the read so much stronger. Leave some of those fussy details to the individual readers to interpretat since chances are good they were going to do that anyway.

Also, as another example, the whole, oft repeated "show don't tell" advice relies hugely on being okay with readers perceiving subtle things differently. Sure, maybe you want readers to get that your character is sad, and while you can come out and tell them Character A is sad, showing Character A being subdued and quiet instead, forcing a tight smile when addressed, swallowing hard, dismissing themselves from others as quickly as possible, etc., gives you so much more to work with and brings the reader in on the experience. But that means being okay with the fact that maybe some people aren't going to track this as "sad." Maybe they're going to think Character A is upset with the characters they're not talking to, maybe they're going to think Character A is angry instead, maybe they're going to read grief where you meant remorse. And maybe that's okay, because maybe there's a little bit of all of that going on underneath the surface, or maybe it'll become clear later as more of the story happens, or maybe it's just really not that important that the reader gets that the character is "sad" maybe they just need to know that the character is feeling something.

And, in the end, no matter how hard you try to make something you've written exact and specific and yours (the themes, the story, the characters, the setting, the world, the magic, whatever), the second you put that into someone else's hands, it's theirs now too. It comes alive, it changes, it grows, it breathes, and I think, just, let it. Working within that ambiguity, letting the story be something that can exist outside the confines of the words you've written it with, that's powerful, and when we use that to inform our writing, I think it's just naturally stronger.

So...yeah! I guess we're here now, the end of the ramble. Not really sure what to do with that, so, I'll just like, see you all next time?

Signed, Your Friendly Neighbourhood Fanfic Writer