#its just the translator taking every word far too literally

[inkgeeky]

you ever read a translated webnovel and think to yourself "well, you've got the basic premise of the writing down, but a dog could maintain pov and grammatical structure better than this"? bc im the dog and i want to rewrite this entire translation

[luxcuriousao3]

Dove (A Zombie!Ghost Story) Chapter Eleven

Summary: “You want me to read to you?” She asked after a moment of hesitation, reluctantly accepting the book. Simon nodded, embarrassed but refusing to show it. What he really wanted was for her to teach him to read again, but that was too much to ask for. So he’d settle for the sweet sound of her voice telling him stories. Word Count: 2413 Warnings: vaguely erotic candy sharing, mentions of past abuse, mostly just fluff tbh (this story has a surprising amount of fluff for being set in a literal zombie apocalypse) Notes: Sorry about not updating last week--I was on vacation and had forgotten my laptop. I have also decided I will be posting on Sundays from now on. Hopefully still once a week, but I'm running out of pre-written chapters, and with the semester starting again soon, I am not sure how much time I will have for writing. I've also been struggling a bit with motivation. All dividers were made by @/sweetmelodygraphics (original post here). The zombie divider indicates the text below is Ghost's POV, the dove divider inidcates Lelia's POV. The combined dove and zombie divider represents a time skip but not a POV change. I still have no beta for this fic so all SPAG and consistency errors are my own, feel free to point them out. Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

Also, the poems referenced in this chapter are, in order of appearance: i am at the bottom by Innokenty Annensky (translation by R.H. Morrison), Invictus by William Ernest Henry, and i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart) by E.E. Cummings. AO3, Masterlist

When the sun began to cast its weak winter light into the bedroom, Ghost carefully untangled himself from his dove, smoothing a hand over her hair before leaving to check the kitchen. He found a single box of stale cereal, already open and mostly empty. It wasn’t enough. He cast a glance outside, at the knee high snow drifts. There was no way she could go out to search for supplies. He would have to leave her behind and search himself. He was far from pleased with that, but especially since he hadn't yet had the chance to clear the village, but he didn’t have much of a choice. At least she would be safer in the house than she was the tree.

Taking advantage of the mixing bowls and pots left behind, Ghost collected freshly fallen snow in every single one he could find, then brought them back inside to melt. That was the one good thing about the snow. For as long as it was clean, Lelia could drink it.

“Simon?”

He heard his dove calling him from the bedroom, and he grunted loudly to let her know he was still here. A second later, little footsteps padded into the kitchen to join him. Her long hair was mussed from sleep, and a thick quilt was wrapped around her shoulders like a cape, dwarfing her small frame. He wondered if she’d look just as tiny wearing nothing but his shirt. Innocent and soft with sleep, just begging to be lifted up onto the table so he could spread her legs and ravish her…

Ghost looked away quickly. He couldn’t think like that. Especially not after what she’d confided in him last night.

Last night, when he had cradled her close, and she'd let him touch her face with the same reverence she did his whenever she brushed his teeth. When he’d leaned their foreheads together, her hot breath misting over his face. Her pink, pouty lips had been so close, close enough to touch his own… if he’d had any.

“Good morning,” his dove yawned as she approached, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. Simon stiffened, before automatically hugging her back. He couldn’t kiss her, couldn’t make love to her, but he could treasure every touch she gave him, just like he’d promised himself he would last night.

He slowly, painstakingly uttered a garbled ‘Good morning, Dove,’ back. It sounded more like an animal dying, but Lelia beamed up at him anyway, cheeks pink.

“I bet if we found a way to fix your jaw, you’d be able to speak clearly,” she said, reaching up to carefully hold his hanging jaw in place. The broken bones grinded against each other, and his teeth clacked together loudly. His dove rubbed her fingers against his skin soothingly, even though she knew by now that he didn't feel pain. She sighed. “But I have no idea how we’d go about doing that.”

He covered her hand with his, squeezing it gently before pulling it away from his face. His jaw flopped open grotesquely, but Lelia didn't flinch. It warmed something inside him.

Keeping a hold of her hand, he led her over to the table, which was loaded up with bowls, pots, and even mugs full of half melted snow. Her eyes brightened, and he didn't have to tell her what they were for. She grabbed the closest mug and downed its slushy contents, smacking her lips and shivering afterwards. Ghost chuckled, and she grinned cheekily at him. Christ, he swore that one of these days, her smile would restart his heart.

Ghost returned to his dove after several hours spent combing the village for supplies. He’d not gone far, so he’d only managed to clear a small part of it, but he was unwilling to leave her alone for any longer than he had to.

He knocked on the locked door three times, paused, and then twice more. After a moment, Lelia opened it, still wrapped in her blanket, and he stepped inside, stomping on the floor to shake the snow from his boots.

“Did you find anything?” She asked, and Ghost would have grinned if he could. He swung the rucksack off his shoulder and reached inside, pulling out a candy bar and presenting it to her. Her face lit up, eyes bright, and she threw herself at him in a hug. He chuckled and hugged her back for a few seconds before gently pushing her away, not wanting to get her wet.

He hadn’t found much else—just a couple cans of food, and a new torch—but he tried not to let his worry show, not wanting to ruin the small moment of happiness for her. She’d already ripped open the silvery wrapper, and she took a big bite, moaning in delight at the taste. Ghost wrangled his depraved thoughts, morbidly glad that his cock couldn't twitch and give him away.

Lelia savored the bite of chocolate, caramel, and peanuts for a long moment, eyes closed and expression one of bliss. Simon savored her in turn, the upward tilt of her lips, the chocolate smeared on her chin, and the sticky, smacking noises of her chewing. Her joy was sweeter to him than any candy could ever hope to be.

Finally, Lelia swallowed, opening her eyes again as she broke off a small piece, holding it up to his mouth.

“I know human food doesn’t… fuel you,” she started, and he tried not to laugh again at the careful way she phrased it. “But does it still taste good, at least?”

Ghost eyed the piece of candy skeptically. He couldn’t recall ever trying regular food after turning. He didn’t think he’d ever even thought of it—the craving for flesh was far too strong.

He couldn’t smell the sugary sweetness of the candy bar, but it did look appealing. Or perhaps it was his dove’s chocolate covered fingers that had him beginning to drool…

Before he could turn away, she popped the piece of candy into his mouth, holding it there. She set the rest of the bar down on the table and reached up with her other hand, gently grabbing his broken jaw and beginning to move it up and down, helping him chew. Simon stared at her, his ruined brain lagging like a shitty computer—even as his tongue greedily lapped at her skin, ignoring the candy entirely. Lelia blushed, and that sweet, musky scent of her arousal soon filled the air.

“Do you like it?” She asked, her voice slightly breathy. Simon nodded, practically in a trance, and quickly swallowed the candy. He reached up to hold onto her wrist, though, keeping her fingers in his mouth and he methodically licked each digit clean. She gasped quietly, but didn’t pull away, big doe eyes looking straight into his own.

He stopped himself before he began to slobber all over her palm like a dog—or worse, try to take a bite. Lelia shivered when the cold air hit her spit-soaked skin, and he grabbed a rag from the kitchen sink, beginning to clean it for her. The two of them stood in slightly awkward silence, until she picked up the candy bar and took another—much smaller—bite, and hummed happily.

“Thank you, Simon,” she said, voice earnest and grateful. “I needed this. I needed something good.”

The corner of her lips quirked up in a smile again.

“I’ll have to figure out a way to repay you,” she said, voice soft and teasing. “What would you like? A filet mignon? Baked Alaska?”

“A blowie?” Johnny's voice echoed in his head, whiny in a playful way. It sounded less like an interjection this time, and more like a memory. “C’mon, Si, ye owe me fer tha’ bit o’ friendly fire! Nearly took me bollocks off!”

Ghost tried to cling onto the strange memory, to examine it further, but it slipped away like water through a sieve. He focused back on the present, tilting his head to the side thoughtfully before nodding at his dove. There was something that he’d been wanting to ask her…

He stepped closer, reaching into the breast pocket of her leather jacket and pulling out a small book. The cover was red and made of worn leather, with faded, gilded letters embossed on the front. She sucked in a startled breath. Clearly she hadn’t realized he’d known about the book she always carried around, never taking it out in front of him. He felt a bit bad, guessing it was supposed to be a secret—but she’d offered. He opened it to a random page and held it out to her, unable to meet her eyes.

“You want me to read to you?” She asked after a moment of hesitation, reluctantly accepting the book. Simon nodded, embarrassed but refusing to show it. What he really wanted was for her to teach him to read again, but that was too much to ask for. So he’d settle for the sweet sound of her voice telling him stories.

“Alright…” she trailed off nervously. She took his hand and began to pull him over to the couch. She was stalling, that much was clear. “Let's get comfortable, first.”

He let her sit him down, let her take his wet boots off—resolutely ignoring the dirty thoughts that stirred at seeing her on her knees in front of him—let her fluff up the pillows and arrange them just right before curling up on the opposite end of the couch, book in her lap. He sat patiently as she stared down at it for a long moment, working up her courage. And when she finally opened it again, he leaned forward, full of anticipation as she flipped through the pages.

“Most of this book is in Russian,” she admitted. He blinked in surprise, and she huffed a little laugh. “It’s my first language. My parents were displeased by that. I was their own fault for letting my governess raise me all by herself, though.”

She shook her head, stopping at a page a third of the way into the book.

“My first word was яблоня. The Russian word for apple,” she told him, a small, sad smile on her face. “It’s what I named my teddy bear. I kept that bear until Andrew threw it away on our we— I mean… well. Until Andrew threw it away.”

On our wedding night.

The missing words were easy enough to fill in. Simon remembered the time she’d almost spoken about a husband. He remembered how disgruntled he’d been by the thought that she was married. How jealous. Now, he only felt a simmering rage in his chest, like a false heartbeat. If he ever laid eyes on Lelia’s husband, he’d tear him apart.

“Anyway,” she whispered, delicately learning her throat and quickly moving on, clearly not wanting to be questioned about her slip. “I’ve translated some of them, or at least my favorite stanzas. I’ll read you one of those.”

Poems? He thought curiously, eyes on her as he listened with rapt attention. Of course she liked poetry. Pretty words with hidden depths. Just like her.

Then, she began to read.

“I am at the bottom; I am a sorrowful

Fragment; above me the water is shimmering

Green. Out of the heavy glass darkness

There are no roads for anyone to anywhere…”

“I didn't always like that one,” she admitted into the silence that followed. Simon was still digesting the poem, his ears ringing a little bit. The words had touched something deep inside him, whispering of memories just out of reach. “But that was because I didn’t understand it, then.”

He grunted, moving a little closer to her and tapping the book.

“Another?” She asked, surprised. He nodded, and she blushed, looking unsure. “I don't know… I don’t want to bore you…”

Ghost gave her an unimpressed look and just tapped the book again, a little harder this time.

“Fine, fine,” she huffed, but he could see the slight amusement in her eyes. She flipped through the book for a moment before stopping, dragging her fingertip down the page. She was quiet for a moment, eyes flickering over the lines, before speaking again. “This one… this one is one of my favorites. It’s not a translation. Just an English classic.”

“Out of the night that covers me,

Black as the pit from pole to pole,

I thank whatever gods may be

For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance

I have not winced nor cried aloud.

Under the bludgeonings of chance

My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears

Looms but the Horror of the shade,

And yet the menace of the years

Finds and shall find me unafraid.”

There were tears in his dove’s eyes by the time she finished, and Simon reached out to wipe away one that slipped down her cheek. She let out a little embarrassed laugh, ducking her head and scrubbing at her face.

“Sorry,” she whispered, closing the book. “That one always makes me emotional.”

He could guess why. He only knew an inkling of what she had been through, but that was enough. That she was still standing at all was proof of how strong she was, in his opinion. Bloody but unbowed indeed.

Simon managed to convince her to keep going, and at some point over the last hour, his head had ended up in her lap as he laid down across the couch. She carded her fingers through his hair as she read aloud, choosing her favorites—but avoiding any that she herself had written. They were far too embarrassing.

Had she not known better, she would have thought Simon was asleep. His eyes were closed, a deep, content rumbling echoing from his chest. She had to stop herself from giggling when she realized how much he resembled a cat, like that.

“And this is the secret that’s keeping the stars apart,” Lelia recited the last two lines of what had been her favorite love poem for most of her life. She wasn’t even looking at the book anymore, her soft gaze focused on Simon, eyes tracing the features of his mask. She wished he would let her see under it. She wouldn’t flinch away from whatever she found—nothing could make her see him as anything other than beautiful, not anymore. “I carry your heart; I carry it in my heart.”

[ikeoji-subs]

Zettai BL Ni Naru Sekai VS Zettai BL Ni Naritakunai Otoko 2024 - Episode 5 Eng Sub

VS THE START OF A ROMANCE and VS HELPING

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And big big thanks to @my-rose-tinted-glasses for gifs and spreading the word about the fansub.

translation notes:

About “naresome”

As tends to happen when translating Japanese, this is one of those words that don’t exist in English. Its literal translation is “the start of a romance.” So, while we’ve chosen to translate it as “get together,” it would be more accurate to give a more extensive explanation. It is a noun that specifically refers to the moment that love begins. So when we’re talking about “naresome” we’re talking about the thing or situation that triggered the romantic relationship or romantic feelings.–Snow

about casting Tominaga Yuya as a guy who gets busy when it rains

I think this is another tokusatsu Easter egg. Tominaga Yuya, who plays Jouji in the “Vs. The Start of a Relationship” chapter, was also on Avataro Sentai DonBrothers, a Super Sentai series that ran from 2022 to 2023. His character, Sonoi, was the agent of a culture from another plane of existence whose members feed off of the brainwaves of human beings. At first, he and his associates Sonoza and Sononi were enemies of the DonBrothers, but they eventually joined forces with the Sentai. A big reason this happened was that Sonoi had a special connection to the leader of the DonBrothers, Momoi Tarou. Their relationship reads as pretty darned queer to a lot of viewers, myself included.

Momoi Tarou and Sonoi bonding, before they found out they were nemeses

Many JBL fans know Higuchi Kouhei from My Personal Weatherman/Taikan Yoho, in which he played the titular meteorologist, Segasaki. Part of the premise of that series is that at the start of the story, Higuchi’s character only has sex with his partner on sunny days. Jouji, Tominaga’s Zettai BL character, does the opposite: he and his “sex friend” only do it on rainy days. 

Basically, the writers of Zettai BL 3 have made Higuchi’s toku boyfriend’s story into a reverse Taikan Yoho situation. What are the odds that’s just a coincidence?–Towel

Also, he gets his own “Zettai BL” title card moment (and he’s the only one out of the secondary cast who get to have that).–Snow

That’s right!

I’m going to put this in context a little because I’ve given a lot of thought (probably too much) to who’s been featured in the opening credits of the different Zettai BL seasons. For every season of the show so far, Inukai Atsuhiro has had four other actors perform with him in the opening theme dance number. (All of whom also get a crack at some of those title card moments.) For two seasons, three of the four spots were taken up by Yutaro (Ayato), Shiono Akihisa (Toujou), and Itou Asahi (Kikuchi). The fourth spot was taken up by different actors in the first two seasons. It was the guy who played the attractive dude from the goukon in the first season, and it was Izuka Kenta, who played Kikuchi’s ex Igarashi, in the second. 

This time around, I had hoped that Sekoguchi Ryo would take the fourth spot, because he’s my blorbo and of course I wanted to see him in a retro dance number (boy was that wish ever granted!). But I hadn’t expected Shiono not to appear this time. Maybe there were specific reasons for this, like a scheduling conflict or an injury. It’s not like Shiono appears less in season 3 than he did in the others, so that’s not the reason. It’s hard to say. But in that context, it seems even more significant that they gave a spot to Tominaga Yuya. We don’t know the reasons for this. But it’s possible they featured him more heavily in this way because of his tokusatsu backstory and the inside joke it allowed them to make.–Towel

about “pudding relationship” and “prince and princess”

This part was tricky to translate. As you might have noticed by this point, Mob likes to make puns. In Japanese, pudding is written as “purin” and it is used to refer to pudding as well as custard. Mob goes on to follow with “prince and princess”, which in Japanese are pronounced as “purinsu” and “purinsesu”. In here, there’s wordplay with these similar sounding words and the image of the ToujouAyato couple.–Snow  

about “cuteness overload”

Japanese is a language that uses a lot of onomatopoeia. There’s 4 types, iirc: animal sounds, object sounds (like rain, creaking and the like), things that don’t make noise (smiles, stares, silence, etc), verbs turned onomatopoeia (I unfortunately cannot remember this properly but it was something like that). In this case, Mob says “Kyun ga tomaranai” (which literally means “the kyun can’t be stopped”). “Kyun” is an onomatopoeic word to refer to a “momentary tightening of one's chest caused by powerful feelings,” usually tied to a romantic context but not exclusively. Taking this into account, we thought “cuteness overload” might be the closest expression in English.–Snow

It’s worth noting that Mob is also saying “kyun” right after the “cuteness overload” line. I really thought at first that he was saying “cute,” since it sounds so similar, it would make a lot of sense contextually, and English loan words are so common in Japanese. But no, it was “kyun.” There was no way we could get across the meaning of “kyun” in one or two syllables of English, so we went with “adorbs,” which is just another word for “cute,” but at least it has a cutesy pronunciation that steps it up a notch.–Towel

about bouhan buzzers (16:06)

The translation note shown onscreen during this scene reads: “a bouhan buzzer is a security gadget carried by Japanese schoolchildren.” We did our best to summarize the meaning of this term briefly, so that it would be readable in the amount of time it was possible for us to keep that caption onscreen. But here’s a longer explanation for those who might be curious. 

It took a while for me to understand what these things were. At first I pictured something like a hand buzzer–the kind that people used to use to prank people. But it’s nothing like that. They’re sometimes referred to as “personal security alarms.” They’re little doodads that you can clip onto a backpack or carry in your pocket, and if you activate them (the most common mechanism for which seems to be pulling some kind of tab or string), they make some form of alarm-type sound. I found a video, below, that shows someone activating two different types of buzzers, showing the sound they make. 

These two make the same sort of beeping/chirping noises you’d associate with an alarm protecting a car or the entrance to a building–not really a “buzzing” sound, or anything that resembles the sound Mr. Cheerleader makes in this scene. But maybe there are other types that are more buzz-like, or sound more like the sound our buddy is imitating. 

According to some things I read when I looked these up, children often play with their bouhan buzzers, making it somewhat less likely that people will be on alert when they hear them go off. I don’t think I could have resisted setting off a gadget like this if I’d had one as a child. They seem to be available with all sorts of characters on them and in all sorts of colors and shapes, which is cool but might make them seem even more toy-like. 

From what I’ve seen, these things are most commonly used by children, but adults sometimes use them too. If you look for them for sale online, there are more adult-looking versions available (say, a rose-gold blob instead of something with cute characters on it–though of course, adults might want those too). One listing I saw advertised that they’re useful for kids, women, and the elderly.–Towel

Tag list: @absolutebl @bengiyo @c1nto @come-back-serotonin @lurkingshan @my-rose-tinted-glasses @porridgefeast @sorry-bonebag @twig-tea @wen-kexing-apologist

[mitskicain]

navi | m.list

⋆.ೃ࿔:･ the sun is not the brightest star—shoko x fem!reader

© mitskicain all rights reserved. the modification, translation, and plagiarism of my work is strictly prohibited.

synopsis: shoko’s world gets turned upside down when long time truths are disproven

content warning: none :)

word count: 1.1k

· · ─────── ·{ ✐ᝰ.ᐟ}· ─────── · ·

Astronomy tells us that within our Milky Way galaxy, there is only one Sun, and eight planets that revolve around it. This is grade school knowledge. Ask anyone, and they’ll know this. But in Shoko’s world, the sun rises twice. Which is odd, because Shoko is a woman of fact, and the science states that the sun rises once a day, from the east to the west, illuminates the moon, and brings light to the planet Earth. But no—in her world, the sun rises twice.

She remembers the first time it happened. Scary, but also fascinating. Like a car crash on the highway that you can’t look away from. She looked at the light reflecting into her bedroom, its golden rays intense and bouncing off her sheets, and thought—shit, well there goes everything I’ve ever believed in. There goes years of my career as an astronomer. Is this how Galileo felt? When he discovered that the Sun revolved around the Earth? What kind of fate awaits me now? Will I rot in prison too for my discovery? And she thought: no, I wouldn’t survive prison; so she kept it her little secret. Nobody else knows of the astronomical anomaly that existed only through her lens. Okay, she could live with that.

Two suns would mean the end of the fucking world. It would mean global temperatures rising and burning through our atmosphere, drying up oceans and crops—an international crisis, a disaster, a world class fuck up. And yet her world kept on spinning in its little orbit, days blurring into nights. The weeks passed, and there was no sign of the apocalypse—so okay, maybe two suns didn’t mean the end of the world. Maybe something new doesn’t always bring everything else to ruins. Okay, she could live with that.

The second sun was weird, because it didn’t sit in the sky; it was here on Earth, with everyone else, and it seemed like Shoko was the only one to realize that a celestial body existed amongst humankind. She never thought it possible, but then again, there’s two fucking suns. So maybe that wasn’t the weirdest thing. The second sun wasn’t always around. Sometimes it would blend in with the crowds inside buildings. Sometimes you could find it in the farmers market on Sundays. Sometimes in the park feeding the ducks in the pond. At first, it didn’t shine as harshly or as brightly as the Sun in the sky did. It was so much softer. A golden glow like a halo that illuminated each room and corner it was in. It didn’t demand to be seen or noticed like the other did. Instead, it draws you in, and the more and more you notice, the brighter and brighter it would seem, until slowly, it outshone the Sun. One upped every single ray and gave you ten fold of whatever the other could—but it was never blinding. Still, Shoko looked away when it was staring her in the face. Whatever it was emitting—sunlight, infrared, gamma radiation—it made her feel weak. Sick at times, the way you do before a presentation or a school play, but nonetheless weak.

When Shoko was in high school, she learned about the stars. She learned that the stars she saw in the night sky were millions of light years away and likely already dead. You just don’t know it yet because they’re so far away and the amount of time that it takes for that light to reach planet Earth is so long. The Sun is the only star in our galaxy, the center of the milky way, and quite literally, one of the few reasons why Earth can sustain life. It’s light allows for photosynthesis, for sight, for warmth. We need to thank the sun for the brilliant, amazing, and grand things it has allowed for us to do with our lives. The second sun was no different.

It brought light into Shoko’s world. Not the visible light and its color spectrum, but rather, lifted the darkness out of her world. Her apartment, once barren and empty, desolate of life, was now thriving with its golden rays and lush greenery. The more the second sun was around her, the lighter her feet felt, and the easier the days seemed. In odd, inexplicable ways, things were simply better with them around. She sang in the shower, swayed to the music–all the corny shit people do when they’re in love.

Yes, Shoko was once terrified, but now loved the second sun. Loved the softness of its rays, loved the tenderness of its warmth, loved the way it lit up rooms, the way it floated from one place to another. Most of all she loved the person she became around the second sun. Loved the lighter, happier person who didn’t have to hide behind all that bullshit she was putting up with. She was finally, finally happy again after god knows how long.

So now her mornings follow a specific routine. She would get up at 5.45 AM, just a little before the first sunrise. She’d wash her face and brush her teeth in the bathroom, and then slinked into the kitchen to brew her first pot of coffee. As the first sun rises above the horizon, she leans against the kitchen table, and watches the sky turn from grey to golden. She does not squint or look away. When she hears the soft rustling of her bedsheets, she knows that it’s almost time for the second sunrise. She makes her way to her bedroom door and watches, in awe, just like the first time she saw the second sunrise. Eyelids fluttering open, a yawn escaping a mouth, arms outstretched and the softest, most melodic voice. It never gets old. She could wake up to this forever. Watch the second sunrise forever.

“G’morning sunshine,” she says, and you beam. Shoko crawls back into bed, back into your open arms, and kisses the soft skin of your neck. This is how mornings are supposed to be spent.

She pulls back, fingers combing through and moving the hair out of your face, and is struck, by the thousandth time, with just how many things had to go right for this very moment to play. She thanks her lucky stars, Canopus and Ursa Major, for this–for you. Thank you for giving one of your celestial bodies to live on Earth with me. To love me. Love of my life. Light of my life–you. And then, for a moment, Shoko looks away, overwhelmed by it all. You giggle at her sentimentality, and press your lips onto hers, laughter echoing in your mouths. When Shoko thinks back on these moments—when Shoko thinks of you—all she can think about is how her high school astronomy teacher was wrong.

The sun is not the brightest star. You are.

· · ─────── ·{ ✐ᝰ.ᐟ}· ─────── · ·

author’s note: for my beloved @aozui @ghostwoke; like you said—you’re.. in lesbians with her? I hope this is lesbian enough for you :)

[fauustic]

aa hello!! could I request a miguel x enby reader in any way??

the genre really doesn't matter but maybe a little fluff?

for an idea i was thinking the reader works as a florist and miguel knows them meeting them as spiderman. he begins taking a liking to them so he comes to the shop often getting flowers or small bouquets, but each flower means love or care, or notice me? (I'm thinking it would be really adorable if he just, late night studied floriagraphy for them) in the flower language, and they start taking notice to it, and eventually ask him?? idk this is silly but if you wanna write it!!

I hope you have a lovely day!!

(( stares at the miguel gifs i've used so far with a longing gaze... i only have so many left ..

i really hope you enjoy this, thank you so much for your request! it was super sweet. ))

nonbinary reader x miguel “spider-man 2099″ o’hara

fluff. like pure fluff. its literally just miguel pining after a little silly florist.

warnings: literally none except the use of some language. possible use of incorrect spanish because i'm learning so i have help of a translator in some parts :) let me know if i can fix anything!

word count: 3742

The smell of all kinds of flowers flooded your senses as the floral shop's door opened with a little chime, a beautiful melody that brightens every beginning of your shift. The shop that has become the core of your life was nothing too fancy, hidden away in a cozy little alleyway accompanied by a coffee shop and another restaurant– a safe space along the bustling city. 

Your identity wasn’t something that you mentioned often, but with the support of your coworkers you couldn’t help but express yourself easier. Being able to incorporate outfits of all kinds in your daily life without much more than a stare, some days you’d adorn a long skirt and a tank top, finished off with a floral-patterned apron to keep yourself tidy. Other days, you didn’t exactly confine yourself with a particular style because you were just you. As free and as happy as ever.

That was one of the many things you loved about the city you found yourself in. The growth and ability to thrive in Nueva York was a symbol of diversity, no matter who you were or where you had come from. It was different back home, so the newfound independence pushed you to be more talkative and approachable because you didn’t need to worry about others' thoughts. Labels and identities were celebrated in the cultures you intertwined with.

So when you found out you aligned with the embodiment of being nonbinary, you snatched it up like a piece of treasure and hadn’t looked back at who you were once before.

The love you had for flowers was immeasurable, somehow finding ways to include floral in your outfits no matter what you were wearing. A lovely white magnolia, fresh and healthy, found shelter in the secure pocket of your apron. Another flower was tucked upon the sunhat you adorned, a light pink peony settled right within the ribbon.

The alley your store took home in held a usual quiet atmosphere soothed by the comforting ambience of bird chirping due to housing a small little section for trees scattered about the alleyway. It reminded you of where your love for nature first began. Yet as you misted a bundle of Irises blooming upon a full window-sill, doused in a beautiful sunny haze, the tranquillity washing over you was unfortunately interrupted when a cat bumped against the shop’s window closest to you. It was loud, shaking the Irisies you just tended to.

Jumping from the sudden chaos happening outside your floristry, you couldn’t help but rush out the door with the watering pot still in hand. Did you need to get involved? You couldn't help but wonder to yourself when you noticed the little feline looked as if it was running away from something, but before you could intervene the answer dived past you on all fours, claw marks left in its wake. The figure, you have recognized from the news, was the talk of the city– broadcasts nicknaming the hero “Spiderman.” But what was he doing trying to grab one little kitty with the intensity of a predator? Surely Nueva York had more crime than that.

Entertaining the idea of watching such a well-respected hero having difficulty catching a feline, you played it off as if you were watering the flowers that decorate your shop– but in reality you just wanted to have a good laugh at seeing the man who has made criminals beg on their knees for forgiveness speak to the cat in desperation.

Funnily enough, the cat did climb one of the many large trees planted around your shop, and even if it was a bit hard to hear from the distance, this Spiderman guy wouldn’t stop trying to call for it to come down.

“Come ‘ere, gatito.” He shouted towards the cat at the tree’s base, his claws digging into the bark as if he was contemplating scaling the tree himself. “If I don’t bring you back with me, you will have to give up treats for the rest of your life. You don’t want that, do you?” His next step was to “psspspssp,” which just came out as a weird hiss. The cat only hissed back, which only fueled his discontentment even more. Without another moment to spare, Spiderman scaled the tree in two leaps, plucking the cat from the branches with a cautious hold. When he landed on the ground, he caught you staring a little too hard.

But the scene was just too hilarious, having to stifle a hearty giggle with the back of your hand as you noticed he was walking straight towards your shop. But luck wasn’t on your side today, as he stood right behind you. The window mirrored how he was holding the cat the same way as before, held like a little baby with its arms reaching out to you. You only laughed harder, crumbling to your knees as water splashed at your boots from the watering can. He didn’t dare to utter another word, obviously finding amusement in your little laughing fit over something so stupid.

“Did you get it out of your system, jardinero?” It was no doubt he was smirking under his mouth as he loomed over your laughing form. A ruffled meow followed his question, which only made you double down on your giggles. “Oh my god– I can’t breathe. Holy shit–” You cried out, rolling on the side to only have a flurry of Wisterias cloud your vision. 

“Who knew the biggest baddest hero that Nueva has, could barely even catch a little animal?” You cackled into the air, which instantly made him defensive. 

“I did not have a difficult time with this little pest, he’s as agile as a Roomba.” His tone was flat, if not a bit irritated. If you didn’t notice the soft chuckles escaping him softly, you would have thought he was genuinely bothered. Spiderman scooped up the cat in a more comfortable position, belly facing the both of you as the cat’s back lied against his arms. “Lo que sea–” He muttered through his mask, shaking his head in disbelief. After a short pause, it's clear he had nothing else left to say. “That’s enough entertainment for you today.” It was clear he was done once he spun on his heel, cat in arms and not even sparing a wave.

Something overcame you, as you called out to him. Maybe you were just as stricken as all his other fans, but as he paused with an awaited glance– you rushed through the waves of color in your floral shop before stopping to a bundle of crimson petals. Plucking a single bloom, you rushed out your store in a flustered mess so he wouldn’t have to wait long. 

There wasn’t much to his suit, so there was no way you could easily position it in a way the flower couldn’t fall. So you just settled with putting it against the cat’s ear, the feline wearing it without a care.

You sighed, smoothing out your apron in nervous relief. This was an eventful start to your day, to say the very least. But Spiderman didn’t move from where he moved despite being eager to leave just a moment ago. Instead, his attention was fixated at the bloom in his grasp.

“It’s an Amaryllis. Truly a beautiful one, right?” Your tone shifted, excitement lacing your voice at the opportunity to explain a flower to a stranger– let alone someone that is apparently a huge deal.

“... What does it mean?” When your attention snapped to his masked face, you weren’t able to distinguish his wonderstruck expression. You gladly took the chance to ramble about what you knew about the flower, and explain the exact reason why you chose it. 

“Amaryllis have multiple kinds of meanings you see– every flower does– but they’ve always been a symbol of hard-earned success due to its representation of determination and pride. I thought it was fitting because I was able to watch you in action, and you deserve a reward for your civic duties.” You couldn’t help but include some form of humor in your sprinkles of a compliment, but the truth was there. No matter what he had to do under the mask, he deserved to be reminded that his successful missions help so many people. It may have not been your cat, but you were happy that someone will now return back home to their fluffy companion. “And the scarlet coloring of its petals kinda matches your suit, so in a way it kind of reminds me of you.” The masked man in front of you was completely silent, until the gloved hand meeting his shoulder shook him from his daze. “Good work, Spiderman. Can’t wait what next animal you’re going to save,” The spell you unknowingly put him under was slapped away in an instant at the little jab.

He couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his lips before he could turn away, which only encouraged your teasing more. He waved behind his back, keeping his focus on what’s in front of him. “What will it be, a giraffe? Maybe a walrus–” Spiderman was gone by the time you sputtered the second animal, leaping away with an iron grip on the feline to a nearby building rooftop.

“What about something cool like a whale shark? Now that’d be something to read online..” You mumbled to yourself, brushing off your apron one last time before clutching your trusty watering pail and beginning your duties for the day.

Which is how Miguel O’Hara found himself hunched over his computer, staring at a gallery full of vibrant botany with a sigh. He couldn’t express it under the mask– he had a purpose to not allow any sign of weakness when the suit is on, but he was absolutely smitten by you over some stupid mishap on his end and a nervous, endearing ramble about your knowledge of flowers. The nightlife seeped into the windows of his home, neon lights reflecting off the walls. It was late, but Miguel was determined to shove some kind of information down his brain to make him not look like a complete fool when he arrived at the floral shop again. He was a chemist, for god’s sake– botany wasn’t too far off, was it?

He was just so enthralled with you, the way your eyes lit up ever so slightly at the opportunity of ranting about your favorite thing. The scent of fresh flowers entering his senses through the slightly cracked door of the floristry– it was a place he wanted to spend all his freetime in. Having been surrounded by the burning smell of chemicals and the pollution of such a technologically advanced city, Miguel craved to surround himself with so much nature. Or maybe, secretly, he just yearned to have a space of his own that was hidden away from the evils of Nueva York.

It took him a little while to finally work up the courage to stroll in, not having the mask around his head while he met someone as Spiderman always gave him a weird feeling. But he pushed that aside, chanting the knowledge that he crammed in his memory so he wouldn’t stupidly ask for a bundle of flowers that probably didn’t even exist.

Stepping foot in the floral shop for the first time was like a big breath of fresh air, his muscles relaxing ever so slightly at the influx of sweet scents. It reminded him of you, the same smell of blossoms clinging onto you even after you walked through the alleyway to give him that Amaryllis. He still kept onto it, dried against the confinement of his wallet. 

Miguel was going to start browsing even though he already knew what he wanted simply because he wanted to know this place inside and out– it was a part of you after all. But he didn’t go very long unnoticed, your voice making him well-aware of that. 

“Hey, welcome to Nueva’s most diverse little flower nursery! Happy to see a new face, if there’s anything I can do for you just let me know!” Your voice came from the back of the store, yet you peeked out and was able to study him from afar. He tried his best to be stoic, nodding in understanding before quickly averting his gaze to the waves of flowers you clearly took very good care of. 

Miguel, when faced with attraction to another, struggled deeply with bringing it into words. It didn’t exactly help his case when you haven’t met him outside of being Spiderman, so he devised a subtle plan to get closer to you. He wasn’t religious, but he still prayed that you would pay attention to his little requests and specific choosing of flowers.

And you did, of course you did. Your attentiveness squeezed his heart with a grasp he’s never felt before. After transforming into the Spiderman 2099 he’s come to accept, Miguel just couldn’t bring himself to fall for another. But when it came to you, and your silly little knowledge about flowers and the way he watched you tend to each and every one of them with the same amount of tenderness, the sweetness in your touch made him fall even harder. He imagined your hands grasping his own, as if he was as fragile as a flower. The idea made him flustered.

“A bouquet of red tulips and camellia, please.” He found himself asking you, his index, middle, and ring finger drumming along your counter in a soft rhythm. You were caught by his words almost instantaneously, a certain look in your eyes that even he couldn’t decipher. A knowing smirk erupted on your features, not being able to help yourself at teasing this new customer. “That’s so cute, you found yourself a soulmate?” Miguel choked at the proposal, the question rolling off your tongue in a singsong as you began skipping along the shop you owned. 

The gracefulness you had in every step distracted him, plucking every sense of dignity he had as if he was a flower getting its own petals plucked by your graze. “Only a flower connoisseur would know the meanings behind such simple flowers. It’s what makes them interesting, but I suppose the mix of bright crimson intermingled with a calming purple brings a sort of intensity most people don’t get.” You unknowingly held the bouquet to your heart, a smile blessing your lips. “Camellias are standard flowers that convey longing, mostly a yearning for one out of reach. While a red tulip is a promise, the subtle intention of trying to tell another that you want to spend the rest of your life with the recipient. It’s a big commitment to use such flowers for a bouquet, hopefully you know what you’re getting into.” You wrapped it without a second thought, framed with a sweet soft yellow. 

The cashier popped open as he paid.

“I do,” Miguel peered into your gaze, “I know exactly what I’m gettin’ into, mi sol.” He couldn’t help but utter, scooping the bouquet from your stunned response with a cheeky smile.

“W-What’s your name..?” Your composure lost, you demanded an answer as your finger twirled around an Amaryllis. You had kept one close by since your run-in with Spiderman, your thoughts never swaying from the masked hero until now. The stranger now seemed so familiar, but you couldn’t bring yourself to blurt out anything stupid.

Breathing in the bouquet he picked out, his shoulders sagged just a bit in relief. “Miguel,” He picked up a red tulip, the darkest hue in the bunch, and gently placed it right beyond your ear. “Miguel O’Hara.” His gaze flickered from your name tag and the flower he placed upon your curls, a satisfied quirk of his lips dashing his features. He sounded your name out like a blessing, and the two of you shared a stare that almost knocked you down. 

As he left the floral shop, with the little chime of the door signalling his exit, Miguel had waved behind his back with his other hand keeping the bouquet close to his chest. It reminded you how the masked man occupying your thoughts gave you the same gesture in goodbye, and you couldn’t help but pry the red tulip he placed upon you with delicate hands. 

Bringing it to your nose, suddenly red tulips smelled a lot more honey-like.

The two of you found each other in this routine for weeks now. Neither of you could break, he’d walk into the floral shop and continuously order different kinds of bouquets– sets of flowers that practically screamed, “love me back, you’re all I think about, notice me my dear.” Pink roses hugged by Peruvian and Stargazer lilies, the next week would be more simple– a pair of red roses intertwined with fresh caspia.

His voice was distinct, over the many years you’ve operated this little floral shop hidden away, the only two times you’ve heard the little rambles of his and the light accent within his tone was of course from him, but you kept help but think you’ve heard him somewhere else too. It made you nervous thinking about it, was it truly stupid to think he may be Spiderman? Over just one simple interaction with the masked hero and all of a sudden a person with a similar voice and mannerisms begins parading around your store and buying the most mushy, cliche bundles of floral you’ve ever seen? At this point, Miguel has helped generate an amount of revenue you haven’t seen in months.

By the time his next visit came into fruition, you couldn’t help the question that has loomed over your consciousness for the last week.

“Do.. do you-” You stumbled over your words clumsily, picking at the new floral he’s offered this time. Red roses surrounded by pink, finished off with a row of calla lilies. A beautiful balance of red, pink, and white. “Miguel, what are you trying to say with these bouquets?” You breathed out heavily, the nervousness of speaking about something weighing on you to someone you’ve found yourself attached to crashed against your usual calm and teasing attitude. You were out of your element.

Miguel’s eyes widened at the sudden question, which he averted from your gaze almost immediately. 

Your mind was working a million miles a minute, and as you were trying to get the questions out as fast as possible you stumbled over your words like how you usually do, which in any other situation Miguel would cackle as you burn into the ground in a flustered mess.

“Are you into Spiderman?” You yelled into the empty floral shop, placing your hands down upon the counter in accusation with a thud. A moment of silence hung over the two, bouquet still in your grasp like it's glued to you.

“Am I- what-” Miguel’s jaw practically fell open, in which his fangs were finally on clear display to you. You only could point, stuttering in an embarrassed flurry of limbs as you tried your best to explain yourself. 

“That’s not–” You mumbled as his gaze only widened more, not believing the question he just heard. “I meant are you like–” The silence on Miguel’s end wasn’t making this situation any better. “Are you into me?” You blurted out again, hiding your face in embarrassment. “Like– are you sure you’re into me? Like I didn’t know you would like me like that because I know I express myself a bit differently but–”

Miguel cut yourself off with his hands grasping yours, the bouquet now shared between the two of you. “I-” He sighed, casting his gaze downwards before facing you with a look of determination. As you spent time with Miguel, you came to understand that he never was good at talking about himself. Everything clicked into place as he nodded slowly, not a hint of doubt in his silent confession.

“I thought you’d notice sooner or later,” He huffed, dragging his thumbs against the skin of both of your hands. “Since the moment I saw you with an ungrateful gatito crowding my arms, I can’t lie that you piqued an interest I didn’t know I could feel.” Miguel sighed, leaning forward to lean against the counter opposite of you. “Who you are, how you express yourself– that's why I became so drawn to you, cariño.”

Now your jaw was the one to drop, before dropping your head to the counter the two of you shared in exasperation. “Oh my god! I knew it, I literally knew it. But I didn’t want to seem like some crazy person, you know? But I was right, what the fuck.” He couldn’t but laugh, which earned a warmth spread throughout your chest. Miguel only let out a chuckle and it had your insides twisting as if you were on a rollercoaster.

“You are too much, mi sol.”

“I wasn’t the one buying flowers to subtly tell someone I have a massive crush on them!”

Miguel frowned for only a moment, before leaning in just a bit closer. “Since I put in so much work to flaunt my love for you, do I earn a kiss?”

You rolled your eyes, before practically melting into his touch upon your jaw. Miguel met your lips and it almost felt like rain after a long drought. You didn’t know you wanted to kiss him so badly until his mouth was already on yours, his other hand trailing up the sleeves of your shirt and pulling your floral apron closer to him. 

When the two of you separated after becoming putty in one another’s grasp, Miguel mumbled right upon your lips, breath fanning the blush you felt;

“May I please visit you still, mi corazón? I wouldn’t know what to do without coming here, swallowed by your scent and surrounded by what you love the most.”

You only laughed, nodding against his hand upon your cheek. It soon became a nuzzle, relaxing against his touch like the cat he saved when you first met him. 

“Don’t start asking stupid questions, you know you’re more than welcome to come find me wherever I may end up at.” Miguel smiled, full of teeth and unapologetically showing his fangs.

The two of you intertwined like bonded stems, peppering kisses on one another until the door chimed once again.

[king-crawler]

I could talk about Turbo’s death and its symbolism a lot but . Ok whatever IM GONNA TALK ABOHT IT RIGHT NOW.

Not only has he become this fucked up bug thing which is already giving “you would sacrifice your own identity for power and attention” but twisted to an extreme and ironic degree.. there’s also The fact he was essentially hypnotized by the light AND HE WAS TRYING TO FIGHT AGAINST IT. But ultimately gave in to his fate. He flew too close to the sun. It’s almost like that was his internal struggle from the very beginning.

The unquenched envy… the vengeful urge to take over another game the moment people stop paying attention to his. Except at this point it isn’t even a choice anymore because he has gone so far, he has REINVENTED HIMSELF into something entirely unrecognizable and senseless and power-driven. He already did that when he altered his code and fabricated a new identity to infiltrate and usurp sugar rush. But now here it is again- but this time even more extreme and out of his control- he has been reinvented whether he wanted to or not. Playing god gets you in trouble. And now that his coding is combined with cybug coding he’s literally become a virus that has the overwhelming urge to take over and infect everything. But he was already like that in a sense

It’s ironic how in this form he yearns for the Literal light, but that also translates into wanting the light symbolically- the spotlight… and the urge for this light is going to kill him. In every definition of the word. That symbolic yearn for the spotlight not only “killed” Turbo in the public eye but it killed a part of him that valued his own identity, greatly pushing the lengths he was willing to go in order to take that attention back. While chasing that light he fundamentally changed himself and hurt others to obtain it. And now, in this twisted form that embodies his consequences, he’s too far gone to resist it.

And so the light kills him

Am I being overdramatic (yes). Does he have simple motives (yes). Does having simple motives make him a bad villain. NOOOOOOOOOOOO . What I find fascinating is how FAR he goes to fulfill his motives. Not only discarding others but discarding himself in a sense …..

maybe it was a programming oversight that made him so overcomepetitive ..? Or maybe he’s just an asshole and that was all his fault Lmao.

[phoenix-downer]

KH4 First Trailer

This is the first KH4-related translation post I've done (nearly two years late ;lakjsdf my how the time flies), and hopefully there will be many more to come. I'll be focusing on the dialogue and text in the trailer and not so much on the camera angles, character expressions, etc. this time around just because I want to keep the focus on the translations.

Here’s a general key for the kind of analysis I like to do:

JP: Official Japanese Dialogue

EN: Official English Dialogue

TR: My Translation (usually more literal and thus more stilted than the official English version. I’m not using natural-sounding English in order to stick as close to the Japanese versions of the lines as possible for the purpose of analysis)

Notes: things I found interesting, grammatical points, extra thoughts, etc.

One last note: media doesn’t exist in a vacuum. Every work of art must be viewed through the cultural lens of the people who made it. Kingdom Hearts, for all its ties to Disney, is still very much a Japanese game, so it should be analyzed in light of that.

With that in mind, let’s continue.

JP 自分が望む結末ではなかったと絶望するのならー

EN If this isn't the ending you desired—if it brings you despair—

TR If (this) wasn't the ending you hoped for—if (you) feel despair—

Notes: Sigurd is apparently the character saying these next few lines.

The word for "ending" here, ketsumatsu, is an interesting word choice. It is often used in the context of stories (though it also has other uses), which fits really well with how KH4 will play around with the concept of reality vs. unreality. So on a meta level it's like, "If you didn't like how KH3 ended, if you didn't like how Sora ended up, then help him escape Quadratum."

Also, the word the official English version translates as "desired," nozomu, can mean "desire, want, wish for, hope for," and it's an antonym of zetsubō, the word translated "despair." So there's this nice poetic contrast going on between hope and despair in this bit in the Japanese version.

JP 他の世界に退場すればいい

EN then leave this world for another

TR —(then you) should leave for another world.

Notes: This particular word for "leave," taijō, can be used for leaving venues, stadiums, parking lots, rooms, sports games, etc. It can also be used for actors exiting the stage. Take a look at definition #1, which translated states, "Leaving venues, stadiums etc." and #2, which translated states, "Actors etc. leaving the stage" (Source):

I thought that was really interesting, because using a word with these specific connotations makes me wonder if this is more of that meta commentary, this time about how we should direct Sora the character to leave Quadratum if we so desire. Sure, the general sense of "leave" or "exit" is the main meaning here, but I always get so intrigued by word choice and all the connotations a word has.

Also, the phrasing isn't exactly the same, but there is a euphemism in Japanese for the place your soul goes when you die, takai, that uses the same kanji as hoka no sekai that we see in "another world" here, it just uses the onyomi pronunciation instead of the kunyomi pronunciation for "another" hoka/tai and has no no particle.

Googling hoka no sekai brought up a lot of images about parallel worlds and the isekai genre, so that's probably the most accurate connotation given Sora's world traveling adventures thus far, but I still thought that was an interesting tidbit, even if it's a complete reach on my end. Like sure Sora can go to other worlds, but he's still dead, so he's still going to more places where he's dead and can't go home where he'd be fully alive.

JP 選択肢は無限にあるはずだー

EN Your options are endless.

TR (Your) options/choices should be endless/limitless—

Notes: I really like how the English version contrasts "ending" with "endless." You don't like the ending Sora got in KH3? Your options for taking him to other worlds are "endless." The Japanese version has this interesting tidbit too where the speaker conveys an expectation. He says hazu, which means "expected," "should be," "must be." So he expects Sora's options are endless, but it has a slightly different nuance than if he'd just said they are endless.

JP 心は魂に宿り　魂は運命によって在るべき場所へ導かれる

EN The heart resides within the soul which in turn is guided by fate to its rightful place

TR (The) heart dwells in (the) soul, (and the) soul is guided by fate to its rightful place (lit. the place it should be).

Notes: There's not really any difference between the official English version and my translation. It's just interesting to break it down. For whatever reason the "rightful place" of the soul has the verb of existence for inanimate objects (aru) instead of the one for animate objects (iru). Not sure if that's a set phrase or if the soul in this context would be considered an inanimate object (time to go down a rabbithole about animacy in Japanese).

This bit also kinda reminded me of how Xehanort talked in KH3 when he was recounting the cycle of light and darkness. The language has a very "mythological"/storytelling feel to me, which makes sense given whoever is saying these lines is talking about fate, destiny, the nature of the universe, etc. And then the floating text in the darkness also reminds me of the Dive into the Heart sequences with the disembodied voice as well, so it could also be a reference to that.

JP 選択は再び委ねられる

EN The choice is yours once more.

TR (The) choice is left (to you) once more./(The) choice is entrusted (to you) once more.

Notes: Once again, this bit of text seems very meta. It feels like it's addressed to the fans, given how we're the ones who will be controlling Sora in KH4. And of course the image shows his chess piece with his crown symbol on it, so the implication is that Sora's heart will be the one guiding him once more, and his heart will be guided by fate.

JP あなたはこの世界に来て7日間　ずっと眠っていたの

EN You've been asleep since you arrived in this world seven days ago.

TR You came to this world seven days ago (and you)'ve been sleeping (the) whole time.

Notes: I don't love my translation because nanokakan more literally means "a period of seven days," but yeah I think I get the gist across.

Strelitzia refers to Sora as anata here when the norm is to refer to other people by their names in Japanese, even when addressing them directly, so either she doesn't know his name yet or she's being very polite, almost distant. She also ends her declaration with no, likely to indicate she's offering more of an explanation (it also makes her sound pretty cute and feminine).

Also, as I'm going through this trailer again, I'm reminded that Sora doesn't talk at all. He has the battle grunts during his fight against the Darkside, but he doesn't have any dialogue. I just thought that was interesting, because Xehanort commented on Sora not having a voice in Melody of Memory as well. Somehow that also told Xehanort where Sora's heart is located (foreshadowing for this game I suppose). I wonder if Sora will be similarly voiceless at first in KH4 or if he just is for this trailer for dramatic effect because Nomura knows everyone wants to hear him speak.

And then of course I have to mention the significance of Sora being asleep in Quadratum for seven days. Seven has a lot of significance in the KH universe, given how there are seven guardians of light. Seven is also the length of a week, and it's a number that has connotations of wholeness and completion in certain cultures.

JP ここは クァッドラトゥムー

EN This is Quadratum—

TR (This is) Quadratum—

Notes: Not really anything to note here other than the gorgeous graphics, how Sora doesn't look at all like his usual cheerful self (no smile to be found), and the colors in Quadratum seem very warm/brown/earth tones/"real" and not super bright and colorful like in the "main" KH universe.

JP 生者の世界ではあるけれどー

EN It's a world full of life—

TR (It's) a world of living people/the living but—

Notes: Seija is translated as "full of life" in the official English version, but it more literally means "living people" or "the living." So Strelitzia is pointing out that all around them are living people and yet, for her and Sora, it's still a world of death because she and Sora should be dead.

JP 私たちにとっては“死の世界”ってことになるみたい

EN but for you and I, it's similar to an "afterworld," I suppose.

TR —for us, (it) seems like it's "a world of death."

Notes: This is where I wish the English version was closer to the Japanese version. "World of death" or "world of the dead" would've been a closer translation, and I'm not sure why it wasn't used (perhaps to avoid mentioning the dreaded "d" word). I do like the pun-like quality of "afterworld," combining "afterlife" and the oft-used-in-the-KH-universe "world," and since the translators have access to information I don't about the game's lore, I can't say whether crucial lore has been lost in translation, but I wanted to point out the difference here.

Also, the grammar pattern Strelitzia uses here, koto ni naru, indicates something that's outside of her and Sora's control. This being an afterlife of sorts for the two of them was decided by factors beyond their control, in other words. She also uses mitai to indicate her speculation/observation.

JP だがー

EN However—

TR However—

Notes: This is back to Sigurd speaking, and very ominously so.

JP 一度退場すれば元の世界に戻れると思うなー

EN if you do leave this world behind, don't expect to return to the one from which you came—

TR —once (you) leave, don't think (you) can go back to (your) original world—

Notes: This ends on a rather ominous note. Again the word taijō is used here for "leave" much like earlier in the trailer. I remember this dialogue when I first watched this trailer because it was such a wham line. What do you mean Sora can't go home? He can go to other worlds but he can't go home? What will it take to bring him home then? Something pretty drastic from the sounds of it.

Also, I like the formal wording of the official English version. Sigurd sounds like he's from a different time.

Then of course this next bit cuts to Donald and Goofy, searching for ways to find Sora presumably:

JP どこにいるんだろう？

EN I wonder where he is.

TR (I) wonder where (he) is.

Notes: Nothing really to talk about, just that the "I" and "he" is implied in Japanese (Japanese tends to drop pronouns in places they would be required in English because there's enough info provided by context, verb conjugations, etc. to figure out who the speaker is talking about).

JP 手がかり見つかるといいね

EN I don't know, but I sure hope he can help.

TR I hope (we) can find (a) clue.

Notes: A bit of a difference here, Goofy is focused more on finding a clue in Japanese whereas in English he's hoping "he" (Hades, presumably) can help.

JP おい

EN Hey!

TR Hey!

Notes: Hades' Japanese VA has a very distinctive voice, and so right from this word you know it's him a;lsdkjf and he's as snarky and blunt as ever lol.

JP どこへ行くんだ

EN Just where do you think you're going?

TR (Just) where (do you think you)'re going?

Notes: I love the sass and snark of the English translation, and it captures the vibes of the Japanese version well (Hades uses ~nda at the end of the sentence to indicate he wants more information out of them). They found Hades, but now they'll actually have to deal with Hades...

And that's what I have for now! I am curious about what promo material will be released next and what new tidbits we'll have to speculate on. Fingers crossed we get more info around the anniversary this year!

The Japanese trailer is here.

The English trailer is here.

[a-girl-in-neverland]

Hii TSH fandom

I just finished the book (literally an hour ago) and i have many feelings and questions and a insatiable need to ramble, so buckle up if you want to

Maybe upon reading this post, you might think that some things are a bit dumb or that i could have worked out on my own. So let ME be the first to admit, that i AM a bit slow and that sometimes i become so invested in a story/book that i do not take a step back and analyse the characters, symbols, metaphors, reading in between the lines etc.

So without further ado:

Warning for The Secret History SPOILERS!!!!!

• Somewhere in the first half, its mentioned that Bunny takes medicine for asthma and that could be the reason for him putting in weight and being irritable, but Richard says that he later found that was for another reason. What was it? By the time this is mentioned i dont know if the farmer has already been killed or not

• What happened between Francis and Bunny? I read a theory that Francis may have tried something but i dont think that Bunny would still want to be friends after

• Why did Francis, Henry, Charles and Camilla put up with Bunny? He doesn't seem like a good friend, uses them for their money, doesn't seem interested that much in greek or classics (actually i got the feeling only henry and richard were more interested)

• In the beggining, Richard sees Henry and Julian talking. And Henry kisses him. And the stuff they were talking. What was that about? Was Henry just Julian's favorite or was something else there?

• In the second half, it has this whole drama and tension between Charles and Henry. I get why Charles is pissed. I don't get why Henry is tho. That scene which Camilla tells about this meeting with a lawyer, Henry is furious with Charles but I dont get his reasons. Was it just because Charles wasn't accepting his manipulation anymore?

• Kinda off topic but has anyone suggested Luther Ford as a fancast for Francis? He's the only one i could picture in my head

Kinda off topic part 2, i read the book in brazilian portuguese and the translation was... well, it could be better. Has anyone else thought so too?

Also, this is the second Donna Tartt book ive read (first was the goldfinch) and i still cant put into words how these books made me feel. The characters are insane but so compelling. The book is lengthy but every single part is important. I cant just say it was a good book, it doesn't feel right or does justice to how i felt

Anyway, if anyone has made it this far, thanks for the patience and for letting me ramble. Hope you have a great week and dont do cocaine in the burger king parking lot <3

[pboogerswbb]

Chapter 9

OMG TREY IS SO ANNOYING

Wearing P's hoodie and holding hands during takeoff, not sus at all

“Yeah Iz,” she hums. “Best part of my day.” 😭😭😭

“Shirley temple, thanks,” I say to the brunette bartender -> At least get a Dirty Shirley girl Arike is ashamed of you

“You sure that’s all you want?” -> P you know you're single right? You CAN take her to your hotel room and work her all night.

“Why didn’t you tell me you got a British girl Paige?” -> Ring ring. Hello? Hey Stewie, its Paige. Just wanted to drop you a line and say I fingered a girl on the couch at the wings facility for like 8 seconds. AND she's British. That's all, bye!

My best friend in Dallas. ->😍😍😍😍

“She’s our social media girl.” -> Paige that was kind of diminutive. Do you want Zari to yell at you? I think you do actually.

After four martinis I can feel the way I’m losing control over my gaze. -> four martinis! Thats a lot of Liquor girl

Now I felt lost, worried I might never find that person for me - to have children with. -> Well Zari, I know a girl who can afford as many rounds of IVF as your heart desires!

“Me too! I want all boys. I could see you be a boy mom.” -> there has never been someone who less gives off 'boy mom' vibes than Zari

I feel hot in the face, angry, for whatever reason. -> For whatever reason

“You’re being stupid. Flirting with random bartenders. You’re famous like actually famous. You need to be smarter Paige.” -> riiiight cause professional athletes are never ever promiscuous

Maybe that’s why you haven’t been doing as well, you’re unfocused.” -> WOAH ok TOO FAR. Don't let this slide P. Of course she will let it slide shes a SIMP

“I see that basketball IQ doesn’t translate to real life huh?” -> CLOCKED

Why would Izzie, who wanted us to be friends, who kept rejecting me time after time, be jealous over me? -> Paige you are so dumb

Maybe Izzie had feelings for me, the same kind of feelings I had for her. -> CLOCKED

Every minute we spent not together felt wasted to me. -> AW! Poetry.

“You know what, all those girls you bring home too, it’s so inconsiderate. It is so loud, it drives me insane! You should think of your neighbours once in a while, you know!” -> Havin a full blown Menty B eh Iz?

“If you don’t want me with anyone else just say the word.” -> Hot

“It’s just. So loud sometimes.” -> I bet it is, and that could be YOU!

🦫

HELLO MY BABY ILY so excited for this sorry it took a while to post this <3333

trey is public enemy #1

8 seconds is crazy it was at least 15

paige def wants zari to yell at her

ZARI IS EUROPEAN WE CAN HANDLE OUR LIQUOR OK

"-> Well Zari, I know a girl who can afford as many rounds of IVF as your heart desires!! this is so real (also she's such a girl mom it's ridiculous)

zari could stab paige and she'd let it slide let's be real

ILY ty for doing this literally my favourite things to read

[thelampisaflashlight]

Get To Know

[Quincy can't get Mountain off his mind, thankfully, someone knows exactly where to find him.] Below the cut.

It's been three days since Quincy's last encounter with Mountain, and, despite efforts to will the man from his mind, he admittedly feels a bit... guilty.

Okay, a lot guilty.

Truth be told, Mountain's comment about the uniform had been fine, it was just the delivery that needed work, and, perhaps, had Quincy not been in such an odd mood to begin with, he would have taken it as a compliment -as the other had intended it to be.

But even that feels like an excuse.

Every time he hears the doors to the library open, he almost hopes he'll see Mountain walk in, that the taller man will come to confront him first, but he doesn't.

And, well, Quincy has gotten tired of waiting for things to happen on their own, or for other people to take the lead, so he steels himself and decides to seek out Mountain himself.

But there's just one small problem with that plan.

He has... absolutely no fucking idea where to find him.

For as big as he is, Mountain is not an easy man to locate, especially in a place as large and unfamiliar as the abbey.

Quincy spends most of his break just trying to work his way back after taking too many winding hallways, traversing high and low, that he can't even really focus on finding him in the end.

He gets lost and turned around more times than he can count, and at some point he decides to just give up on the idea of finding Mountain entirely... If only so he can find his way back to the library before the next bell rings.

It's not easy, and Quincy's legs ache by the time he manages to stumble his way through the double doors to the library, Brother Elijah's boasting about his ability to run about the abbey multiple times over at ease coming back to mock him as he takes five painful strides towards the front desk and flops down into his chair.

He's worked up quite a sweat in his searching, so he undoes the first few buttons of the cassock Brother Elijah had given him to wear, picking up his abandoned crossword puzzle, still unfinished, and uses it to fan himself.

He'll try and catch Mountain some other time and apologize.

.

.

.

The library after lunch is deader than a graveyard, and, frankly, Quincy is grateful for it.

It gives him ample time to examine that book he found before, even if the words written within it still make little to no sense to him.

He transcribes a full word here or there, and makes use of the library's computer in an attempt to learn its meaning, but it's a tedious and slow process, and by the end of the day, he barely has a full sentence to work with, but he at least knows the language is based in Latin, using familiar structures and roots...

But, again, he still has no idea what the full sentence is supposed to mean.

The problem with translating things written in other languages, is that meaning or intent might be lost if you are unfamiliar with the tone or the terms being used.

Idioms and the like are easily misinterpreted or taken too literally due to the lack of understanding the source material.

For example, the French idiom for "the apple doesn't fall far from the tree" translates literally to, "dogs are not cats" or something of the sort, which, unless you know the actual meaning, makes no sense whatsoever beyond being able to say, "Well, of course not, they're different animals."

So Quincy is essentially back at square one.

Working a kink out of his neck, Quincy sits up and stretches, reaching for his phone to check the time.

It's close to 5pm now, not exactly late, but later than he's expected to stay and tend to the library, so after giving the floors a once over and gathering up any stray materials he finds lying about, Quincy decides it's time to head home.

On his way to the front hallway, he catches Brother Elijah making his rounds, and the two share a brief conversation about this or that, but both are eager to get on their way, so they part ways with a polite haste.

Passing by the statue of Baphomet, Quincy spares it a glance, taking a moment to admire the, um, craftsmanship of the metalwork, before heading towards the door, but that's when something catches his attention.

When he looks up, he gets a glimpse of the statue's eyes or the first time.

They seem to follow him as he stands, carved in such a way as to always be watching.

He supposes, to his followers, this is meant to be reassuring in some way, but to Quincy it's, well...

Shuffling to one side of the room to the other, Quincy treats it a bit like a game trying to find the statue's blind spots, the spaces where the illusion breaks.

It must look a bit silly as he darts about the face like this, because when he runs around the statue once again, he hears a laugh echo through the otherwise empty chamber.

A sturdy looking man with short black hair stands in the door off to the left hand side of the statue, watching Quincy skitter to a halt, shoes squeaking on the marble as he stops abruptly.

"Ah..."

"Sorry to interrupt your fun..." he snorts, clearly amused by Quincy's embarrassing display, "...but, what exactly are you doing?"

Quincy points at the statue.

"I, uhh... the eyes. I was just..."

The man looks at the statue and hums.

"...I was just... I'll be heading off now-"

"You're Quincy, right?" he says suddenly, "The new librarian."

Quincy nods.

"I've actually been meaning to talk to you, do you have a moment?"

.

.

.

In the back of his mind, Quincy feels that, perhaps, following this man -Aether, he introduced himself as Aether- deeper into the abbey, into unfamiliar territory, is a bad idea.

But for some reason, Quincy trusts him, and maybe that's a mistake, no, it definitely is, but he's nothing if not curious to a fault.

He holds some confidence that, if something were to occur, that he could at least get a swing in, maybe a swift kick to his crotch, but, again, he's decided to trust Aether.

...Maybe it's the septum piercing?

Quincy has always been a sucker for that kind of thing, and, well, he has to admit, Aether isn't... unattractive, but-

"Focus, brain, now is not the time to get distracted." he mumbles to himself, rubbing his temples, "Don't be stupid."

Aether glances back at him curiously, "Did you say something?"

Quincy shakes his head, "Ah, nothing, just talking to myself."

"Ah, well, at any rate, we're here." Aether gestures towards a staircase leading down, down, down into the dark.

Okay, yeah, this was a mistake-

"Hold on." Aether reaches into the darkness and flicks on a light switch, "I keep telling those dingdongs to stop turning this light off..."

The staircase looks significantly less intimidating in the light, in fact, it looks like it's been purposefully styled to look warm and inviting.

The walls are painted a yellowed cream, the overall lighting is softer, and the stairs themselves are covered in a plush carpeting that can't be found anywhere else in the abbey... at least nowhere Quincy has been before.

It's then, that Quincy realizes that this space is likely some kind of a modern addition, and a space where people actually live as opposed to the more ridged structure of the rest of the abbey, which, while beautiful, didn't exactly scream domesticity.

"You can leave your shoes here." Aether says, gesturing towards a small shoe rack, already cluttered with multiple pairs of shoes in varying sizes, removing his own, "Just stick them wherever."

"Ah... Okay?" Quincy does as he's told, setting his shoes beside Aether's, "What is this place?"

"It leads to the dorms, well, our dorms." he clarifies, starting down the stairs, "The clergy live in an auxiliary building elsewhere on the grounds, I'm sure Brother Elijah told you about it at some point."

"He mentioned people live here, I just never got around to seeing where that was..." Quincy hums, following Aether, "I wasn't sure how appropriate it would be to explore... well, not that I haven't..."

"I saw you earlier." Aether says, pausing at the bottom of the stairs, "Walking around that is."

Quincy stands on the last step, now at eye level with Aether, crossing his arms, "You did?"

He nods.

"I was running an errand, so I didn't think to stop and say hi, but you also seemed rather focused on finding something..." he drawls, "Or perhaps someone?"

He tilts his head knowingly and Quincy clicks his tongue.

"I... I take it Mountain talked to you about... about our encounter?"

Aether nods again.

"...And?"

"I think you're both hilariously bad at communicating in weirdly the same way."

Ouch.

"I, I think I was pretty clear with how I felt... at the time."

"You were, but, at the same time, you failed to understand Mountain's intentions... because you haven't known him for very long, and, likewise, he's only known you for a short time as well."

"I..." Quincy hops down off the step, "I wanted to apologize..."

"I know you do." he says, "You wouldn't have been looking for him before if you didn't, but Mountain has also been avoiding you, because he thinks he's done something wrong."

"He's... avoiding me?" Quincy questions, "He... is avoiding me."

"You wouldn't know this about Mounty, but, he is very respectful of boundaries when they are set, though he sometimes... he overcompensates." Aether explains, guiding Quincy down yet another hallway, "So, if you want to talk to him, you'll need some help tracking him down, and I happen to be an expert in that department."

"Because you've known him for so long?"

"No, I mean, yeah, but it's actually because he's a simple guy and hides in the most obvious place imaginable when he's upset."

He gestures at a large, dark wood door behind his back.

"His bedroom."

Quincy points at the door.

"He... he's hiding in his room?"

"Yeah."

"And you want me to... what exactly? Go in there and talk to him?"

Aether nods, "I mean, I'd knock first, lord knows what he's been up to in there, but it would be a nice start."

"Not gonna lie, this feels like some kind of elaborate set up." Quincy says, hesitating in front of the door.

"You're surprisingly... distrustful of others." Aether says, leaning against the wall, "Not a bad thing exactly, pretty smart, but, it does come off a little... rude. If you really want to make nice, you should probably work on not assuming the worst."

"I..." Quincy frowns.

"I can promise you now, beyond getting you to reconcile with Mounty, I have no other intentions bringing you down here." Aether says, before leaning over and knocking on the door, "Mount? It's Aeth!"

There's a shuffling beyond the door and Quincy has to stop himself from bolting down the hallway.

The door creaks open a crack, and...

"...Hi."

"...."

Aether clears his throat, pushing Quincy forward and through the door.

"I'll come back in an hour." he says, "Please try to actually talk in that time."

.

.

.

Mountain's room is absolutely overloaded with plants, all of which seem to be doing well despite the sunlight coming in through a small window shadowed by the heavy boughs of an old oak tree.

There's barely enough room for his bed, the only space with enough room for them to both sit down comfortably, much to Quincy's chagrin.

It's not inherently... inappropriate to sit on somebody's bed like this, but Quincy's mind has a tendency to wander in that direction naturally, having read far too many, uhh, novels that employ the "and there was only one bed" trope among other things...

Mountain must sense his apprehension, because he can't seem to sit still, but moving further away from him just causes the bed to dip and tilt Quincy towards him, and-

"Just, stop moving." Quincy says finally, when Mountain's leg bumps into his knee again, "I don't... it's fine."

"Okay..."

"I... I wanted to apologize." Quincy says, playing with the edge of the fluffy throw blanket covering Mountain's bed, "You... you don't make me uncomfortable, I was... I was already uncomfortable before you arrived, and, I just... I'm not..."

He looks over at Mountain, "You're..."

"I'm big?" Mountain guesses.

Quincy nods.

"Your hands are, like, the size of the top of my head, and your reach-" he recalls their first meeting, how he'd been able to grab the back of his chair from over the desk with such ease, "-you're pretty intimidating, you know that?"

"So I've been told." Mountain says, looking at his hands, "...I can't really do much about that I'm afraid."

"I mean, I don't expect you to... I..." Quincy places his hand on Mountain's knee, "Can we, start over?"

"Start over?" Mountain asks, glancing downwards, then meeting his eyes, "Like... reintroduce ourselves?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, uh, sure, sure why not?"

They both stare at each other expectantly.

"..."

"..."

Quincy breaks first, giving a frustrated shout and hiding his face in his hands.

"Ughhh... why is this so hard?"

"I know, right??" Mountain groans, "Are we stupid??"

"We're definitely stupid." Quincy agrees, "How is it that neither of us knows how to do this?"

"It's so... It's kind of embarrassing, isn't it?"

"Yeah!"

"Satan's balls..." Mountain takes a deep breath, "Right... I'm... My name is Mountain."

He offers his hand to Quincy.

"I'd like to get to know you."

Quincy takes it gently, "I'm Quincy."

"I hope to become friends."

There!

They said it.

So why...

"...This is still kind of awkward, isn't it?" Mountain says.

"I mean, we are sitting on your bed, that's already pretty awkward." Quincy says, bouncing slightly to emphasize his point.

"Is it?"

"I mean, like, I've sat on friends' beds before, but it's a little different when you don't know each other that well, right?"

Mountain shrugs, "You wouldn't be the first person I've had in my bed that I-"

Quincy covers his ears, "I don't wanna know."

Mountain makes a face, "What? That's what you were implying."

"You could at least deny it!"

"Why should I?" he asks, leaning back on his hands, "It's not like it's anything to be ashamed of."

"That's not what I mean..."

"What do you mean then?"

"I just... I... hearing someone be so upfront about that kind of thing is a little..." Quincy tries to figure out how to word what he wants to say, but it's a struggle.

"Didn't you used to work in a bar? I'm sure you've heard worse." Mountain says, flopping onto his side, making Quincy topple forward, needing to use Mountain's hip to push himself back up.

"How'd you know that?" he asks.

"Brother Elijah talks about you." Mountain supplies matter-of-factly.

"He does?" Quincy's eyes widen, "What's he said about me?"

"That you're stubborn."

"Oi."

"But he doesn't seem to think that's a bad thing." Mountain props his head up with his hand, "He seems to find it endearing."

"Eughh..."

"He also worries about you."

Quincy blinks, "He does?"

"You sound surprised?"

"Because I am." Quincy says, "I mean, I guess... I guess that makes sense."

"Honestly, I'm kind of worried about you, too."

"Huh?"

Mountain sits up again, "You think Brother Elijah is the only person who's noticed the way you look when it's time for you to go home?"

Ah.

Quincy purses his lips.

"...It's that obvious?"

"If I noticed, then yes."

"...Fuck."

[burnyouwithacigarettelighter]

Omg I’m so happy you replied!! I definitely have more questions.

1. What Cillian character do you like writing about the most and why?

2. What story from your master list are you most proud of?

3. Do you personally have any fic recommendations/ must reads? Other sites included.

4. What gets you inspired to write? Following that question have you ever abandoned a fic?

5. What do you think made you a better writer? If you have any doubts about your work, how do you get past it enough to continue?

6. Is there a Cillian character that you just don’t like, or aren’t interested in watching/ writing about? (Sorry if that’s a loaded question)

omg thank u so much for this!!! i srsly love interacting w u guys, tysm for the thought provoking questions😄🙌

i think i like writing most about robert fischer:) ik it probably doesnt translate considering ive written most for jonathan crane but robert fischer is just such a little sweetheart to me,,, and can go both ways in being a sassy dom douchebag or being a sobbing daddy issues sub darling LOLLL i just think he has a lot of duality to delve into and develop (which ive definitely not done so far☠️) and it helps that his characterization in inception was also very surface level— i have a lot of wiggle room y’know??

i think im most proud of “dine & dash” which im aware probably no-one has read, but getting chris o’doyle’s sassy little dialogue down was like taming a wild beast,,, otherwise, considering my more well-known work, i rly liked writing “honey, i’m home”. i go crazy for the unhinged readers (if u couldnt alrdy tell lmaooo) and seeing jackson get messed with like that was a real treat.

i seriously just recommend anything by @mypoisonedvine,,, they’re literally genius & are the reason i started writing for cillian:)!! other mentions include kitten fics by @pictureinme and, a personal fave, @floralcyanidee’s jackson rippner mile-high club fic!!! these writers are all incredibly talented and im just blown away at their work every single time🫶

my thirst is such a big motivator for writing LMAO😭i wrote “guinea pig” ‘cus i wanted to absolute wreckkk jonathan crane and have him be a sub, and i got a 6.8k words long fic out of said thirst! music & book quotes motivate me a lot too— i spend sm time digging thru my pinterest for a good quote for the beginning of my fic its actually insane☠️and yes,,, im ashamed to say ive abandoned fics numerous times,,, but thats because they were series’, not oneshots. i get bored of series’ pretty quickly, ‘cause i feel kind of trapped by the initial dynamic or mood set in the first chapter. with oneshots, its like writing one long chapter of this trope and this kink or whatever and then its done, and i dont have to exhaust myself going back to tropes or kinks or storylines ive already done.

i think reading made me a better writer. expanding my vocabulary through the words of others was a biggie; seeing something be described in a certain way in someones story had me thinking of out-of-the-box ways to describe another thing (that doesn’t make much sense but lets pretend it does😭). i have many, many doubts about my work, like constantly, but i usually just suck it up. i sound like an attention whore but seeing the reposts & comments & tags on my other work reminds me people like what i’ve written before and certain people will enjoy what ive written now, so i should just finish my work for them. i also take like 100 years rereading my stuff until i think its good enough lmao,,,

ive kinda watched his whole roster of films (atleast ones i could actually find on the internet and not gone missing as a lost piece of media lmao) and i could probably write for any cillian character given i had a good idea and proper motivation. writing for certain characters is definitely harder for me to do though, so its likely i wont write for them/will take a long time to do so. an example is lenny miller— anna was such an insufferable movie to me, and lenny’s screentime wasn’t long at all, atleast not long enough for me to properly grasp his character. he just felt like a horny hardass fbi goof the whole time i could not take his 5’7 ass seriously😭cillian is smexy as hell in anna tho, so we’ll see😈another would probably be robert capa from sunshine,,, hes beautiful and deliciously musty in that but the whole spaceship setting kinda freaks me out (considering i know 0 zilch nada about space, spaceships, or anything of the sort, so it’d definitely be inaccurate). an au with him id definitely do, though! (with that hair of his my mind is already forming a 90s band au, guitarist!capa x singer!reader story…)

again thank u so much for these questions!! i feel like i rarely get to chat to u guys so this was well appreciated😄🫶thank you so much for reading, for sending these questions in, and for being an overall sweetheart, anon!

[r2b2grady]

To anyone who is interested in writing fantasy, a bit of unsolicited advice: don't worry about a place or character name seeming "plain" or "prosaic". Heck, make it as prosaic or plain as you like, and if it feels weird, just translate it into one of the tongues of the setting.

I've been rereading The Lord of the Rings—properly rereading (mostly), instead of just skipping to the battles the way I used to, and one thing that's struck me is how all of the names that we find so moving and so compelling, all those great names—like Gondor, or the river Anduin, or Mordor, or any of those names—all of their names are simply translated forms of very simple, descriptive names. Literally translated from Sindarin, Gondor and Mordor are "stone-kingdom" and "shadow-kingdom", from the roots gond "stone", mor "black, dark, shadow", and -dor, "kingdom". And the name Anduin is literally just "long river", from and- "long" and duin "great river".

And if at all possible, don't let the idea take root that "well, I need to have my characters' names sound like they're from a fantasy setting." There is a power and a fire in the names that seem most prosaic to modern sensibilities. As G. K. put it in Heretics:

The sense that everything is poetical is a thing solid and absolute; it is not a mere matter of phraseology or persuasion. It is not merely true, it is ascertainable. … I remember a long time ago a sensible sub-editor coming up to me with a book in his hand, called "Mr. Smith," or "The Smith Family," or some such thing. He said, "Well, you won't get any of your damned mysticism out of this," or words to that effect. I am happy to say that I undeceived him; but the victory was too obvious and easy. In most cases the name is unpoetical, although the fact is poetical. In the case of Smith, the name is so poetical that it must be an arduous and heroic matter for the man to live up to it. The name of Smith is the name of the one trade that even kings respected, it could claim half the glory of that arma virumque which all epics acclaimed. The spirit of the smithy is so close to the spirit of song that it has mixed in a million poems, and every blacksmith is a harmonious blacksmith. … The brute repose of Nature, the passionate cunning of man, the strongest of earthly metals, the wierdest of earthly elements, the unconquerable iron subdued by its only conqueror, the wheel and the ploughshare, the sword and the steam-hammer, the arraying of armies and the whole legend of arms, all these things are written, briefly indeed, but quite legibly, on the visiting-card of Mr. Smith. Yet our novelists call their hero "Aylmer Valence," which means nothing, or "Vernon Raymond," which means nothing, when it is in their power to give him this sacred name of Smith--this name made of iron and flame.

~ Heretics, Chapter 3, G. K. Chesterton [sic]

And if you need inspiration, I highly recommend Behind the Name. It has a bunch of names in the database, though it is limited to mostly Western names (as far as I can tell, it's a one-person show, so I assume there's only so much they can do). You can find the meanings of different names and see how that might kick free ideas. Like how the name "Alfred" derives from the Old English Ælfræd, meaning "elf-counsel". Or how "Henry" derives from the Germanic Heimirich for "home ruler".

All this to say: who cares if the fantasy hero is named Bill, or Mary, or Bubba, or Laura? Does the name make the hero heroic? Or does the hero make the name heroic?

And there's nothing to say that if you like a more outlandish name, you can't use it, either. If you prefer to name someone Garrenthos the Livid instead of Todd Williams, that's fine. But you shouldn't feel like you have to name the characters outlandishly "because it's a fantasy". If Tolkien, the father of modern fantasy, has shown us anything, I think it's that the most humble of names can be attached to the most heroic of hearts.

[rollercoasterwords]

oh!!!! happy 100k words wfrau!!!!!!! she's getting bigger (<- like you would speak of a puppy). how long is it supposed to be & how far along are you? and also... would you like to share a snippet you like (from any chapter ofc... no pressure if no it's completely understandable)? what do you enjoy the most about writing it? bc it seems like you're having fun & it's so nice to see someone enjoying a hobby so openly online... especially writing... there's this conception that writers don't actually enjoy writing (the whole 'forcing myself to write' bit) and i'm curious to hear your perspective on it!! also!!!!!! i hope moving will be easy & fun & the world will be kind to you with the change <3 i keep telling myself 2 read marx but i can't find any good translations to my native language and reading it in english is making my brain go grgrgrgrgr like an air conditioner on its last leg so alas it might have to wait... so true for liking iced drinks they're really the best!! i've heard someone say it's childish but i think they just live a very miserable hot life in the august heat drinking their hot coffee instead of putting some ice cubes in it :) it's funny you say that about fav line because it's definitely my fav fic of your writing & the ending of it is soooo beautiful i get back to it every time i need to feel something!!!!! that song line is beautiful too omg... and well the weather is hell everywhere at least the world is all suffering together :( i hope the atmosphere isn't suffering too much :/ honestly i am a big 'i would rather be hot than cold' believer because i am from a hot country so i know how to deal with the heat but you know what i'm sure the chill can also be intriguing to some... not me though... i hope the winter will be kind on you <3 thank u for letting me invade ur ask box i am creating myself a room here for now i think. anyway. love and hugs!!!! <333

hello!! she is indeed getting bigger <3 if i had to guess right now i'd say i'm maybe...possibly nearing the halfway point of the fic, plotwise? but honestly it's really hard to say lol. i've got 2 more story arcs to cover in part 3 (plus finishing the current one), and then part 4 is gonna have like...2 or 3 story arcs as well, plus an epilogue. so it just depends on how long it takes me to cover all that ground!

and yeah i'm having a lot of fun writing!! i know what u mean abt the whole "ugh writing amirite" bit that writers do lol and i'm sure i do it sometimes too...i mean i think tone varies a lot and many people who complain about writing still really enjoy the activity, but i do think there is sometimes this self-flagellating tendency amongst some writers to act like writing is meant to be this strenuous, emotionally draining activity like ur...idk sisyphus w the stone or something, and if you're writing something 'easy' or 'fun' you're somehow a lower caliber of writer than those who Nobly Suffer for their art, etc...which i think is dumb lol. suffering doesn't inherently make art any better or more noble

& thank u 4 the well-wishes w moving!! i'm mostly nervous about getting to my flight on time lol i have to go into work the literal day before i leave and then catch a train across the country at 5am the next morning 2 get 2 the airport...not going 2 be fun so i'll take all the well-wishes i can get !!

sorry 2 hear u can't find marx in ur native language :( it's hard enough 4 me 2 understand reading in my first language i cannot imagine trying 2 parse it in a second language...maybe it might be easier 2 find one of his (or engels') shorter texts 2 read? capital is a monster but i started off with a few shorter pieces ('socialism: utopian and scientific', 'principles of communism', 'wage labour and capital,' 'value price and profit') which i found helpful! also there are lots of secondary resources of other people breaking down + explaining marx's work; maybe there's a good source in your native language that could give a summary/overview of capital? there's no one right way 2 learn, it's just abt finding what works best for u!!

iced drink supremacy 4ever truly <3 me myself & i we can only enjoy a hot beverage if it's very cold outside...otherwise i am simply thinking well why would i do that 2 myself... & thank u!! happy 2 hear u like the lines!! v happy w them v proud <3 & also appreciate the well-wishes re: weather i cannot relate 2 the hot-weather preference i much prefer cold...or at least i used to i grew up in a relatively cold climate but then i moved south 4 university so at this point i'm going on 6 years of living in what is categorized as a "humid subtropical climate" & i think my winter tolerance has been all but destroyed it hardly ever drops below freezing...but hot&humid weather is still my least favorite i think i would prefer icy-cold winter + mild summer but i will be actually putting that theory 2 the test this year so!! who knows maybe my hubris will be my downfall...

& of course!! u are welcome 2 stop by + chat anytime...in my heart we are drinking iced beverages 2gether <3 also as requested here is a snippet from ch 14:

“Don’t,” he tells her, firmly, “Don’t say that. I don’t—want you involved. If they ever did anything to hurt you…I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.” She stares at him, eyes ablaze. “And how do you think I feel? Knowing that they only pick on you because—” her voice falters, cracking, “Because you’re with me?” Her lip is trembling again, tears threatening to spill over from her eyes. Sirius shakes his head, helplessly, at a loss for what to do.

[four-loose-screws]

FE7 Novelization Translation - Chapter 12 Section 6

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———————————

Chapter 12: Cog of Destiny (Section 6)

“I can see it now…! That's the Shrine of Seals!" Eliwood said when the building they'd been looking for came into his view.

The shrine was white and enshrined in a flat plain surrounded by steep mountains. Though the terrain was difficult to traverse, the building appeared to be meticulously maintained, and glittered in the sunlight even from a distance.

Relying on the letter Queen Hellene had given to them, Eliwood's army set out for the Shrine of Seals, and had just now finally arrived at their destination.

This was the path to defeating Nergal. After all this time, they'd made it to the place Athos directed them to.

"Well this is anticlimactic! At this rate, we're going to finish things here without running into anyone." Hector mused.

"...Unfortunately, I don't think that is going to be the case." Lyn frowned and shifted into a battle stance.

"What?!" Hector put a hand on Wolf Beil and looked around.

In response, a single man clad in black appeared from the shadows of one of the shrine's pillars.

"The Fang… never lets anyone escape!"

It was the last of the Black Fang's prided Four Fangs, Lloyd Reed, the "White Wolf.”

After vowing to avenge his brother, he had come here to wait for Eliwood. Behind him were the ten remaining members of the Black Fang he'd brought along with him…

Befitting of his nickname, Lloyd's gaze on Eliwood and his allies was as sharp as a wolf's. "I am here to avenge Linus… Bring out Eliwood to me!"

"How dare you speak to me like that! I'm not gonna…"

"Wait, Hector!" Eliwood held back the enraged Hector and stepped up to Lloyd.

They had not killed Linus. But no matter how Eliwood might assert that claim, he couldn’t imagine the man in front of him would believe him. And he felt that rather than vengeance, Lloyd had actually appeared to close the final curtain on the Black Fang and its history.

"So we finally meet."

"Is it really… impossible for us to talk this over?"

Lloyd drew the sword at his waist and pointed the tip at Eliwood's throat. "Yes. It is already far too late for that." He said.

"Lloyd Reed, son of Brendan, leader of the Black Fang… I challenge you!”

With those words, everyone present lunged at the same time to attack.

ー

This battle taking place in front of the Shrine of Seals would be the last against the Black Fang.

The enemies Eliwood's army were up against were quite literally throwing away their lives, and they fought frantically against them.

Oswin, Marcus, and the other cavaliers and knights formed an unbreakable frontline, flanked and supported by the agile mercenary, myrmidon, and fighters Raven, Guy, Dorcas, and Barter. On the rear line, the team of Rebecca, Wil, Rath, Lucius, and Erk all decisively shot their arrows and cast their spells to support their allies with ranged attacks.

As they marched in this perfected formation, they defeated each member of the group wearing black one after the other.

Each foe had been trained to be an assassin, excelling in one-on-one combat clashing face-to-face in broad daylight against a large army like Eliwood’s was nothing but reckless for them. Yet they did not falter as they swung their weapons.

But as the battle pressed on, Eliwood’s army maintained the upper hand.

Every time Kent and Sain thrust their lances, and Isadora and Lowen swung their swords, another, then another, of the men in black was added to the growing pile of corpses.

Spurts of blood soared through the air. Shrieking and screaming echoed all around them. The harsh sounds of weapons clashing shook the air all around the battlefield.

With the Black Fang losing members one after the other, the only person still left with energy in their voice was Lloyd.

"Attack! Show them our pride as Black Fang!!” He cheered on his allies as he wielded his Runesword.

It was a magic sword that siphoned people’s life force from within them. Upon taking a hit from it, both Bartre and Dorcas had no choice but to retreat. Even both Guy, aspiring swordsman of Sacae, and Raven, exceptionally skilled mercenary, were bested by Lloyd’s expertise with his sword, and had to flee to the rear line, where Serra and Priscilla were waiting for them.

Seeking his next prey, Lloyd was surveying his surroundings, when Eliwood came and stood before him.

“I will not allow you to cause any more harm to my allies!”

“That is exactly as I was thinking! I will defeat you, and put an end to this battle!" Lloyd answered while calming his ragged breathing. 

No matter which of them was defeated, both of them wanted this to end without seeing any more of their allies fall.

With the battle continuing behind them, both shifted into a battle stance, then swung their swords at the same time.

Whenever Lloyd swung his sword, Eliwood stepped to the side, and when Eliwood repeatedly targeted him with sharp thrusts, Lloyd turned his body to dodge them.

They exchanged which was on offense and which was on defense so many times that their movements mimicked the ebb and flow of the ocean’s waves.

Their blades met ten times, then twenty. Each time, it became clear that Eliwood’s movements were slowing down.

In skill alone, Lloyd was a far better fighter than Eliwood. However, before this exchange, he had crossed blades with many of Eliwood’s allies. Exhaustion was taking a heavy toll on his body. Because of that, Eliwood was able to match him.

Still, his Runesword was slowly stealing Eliwood’s energy. No matter how small each cut may be, the magical blade was leaving its mark on Eliwood’s body.

Eliwood endured his fatigue and exhaustion, putting all of his strength into his grip around his rapier.

'If nothing changes, he’ll kill me…!’ Eliwood’s mind raced as he desperately blocked Lloyd’s fierce attacks. He needed a way to defeat this man… But no matter how hard he tried to think of a good strategy, he could not come up with one. And Lloyd’s attacks were only becoming more ferocious.

“I promised Linus that I would bring back your dead body as a souvenir!” Lloyd said, and swung his magic sword once more.

He put his entire body into the attack, and when Eliwood tried to block it with his sword, he flew through the air and landed on his back.

Lloyd did not let the opportunity go to waste. To keep Eliwood from being able to move, he straddled over Eliwood’s body, then shifted to a backhanded grip on his sword, and thrust the blade down towards Eliwood's throat.

“Look out, Lord Eliwood!!” The moment she saw the danger Eliwood was in, Rebecca lost control of herself and instinctively shot an arrow.

It whizzed through the air, flying directly towards Lloyd. His sharp senses alerted him to its presence. In a split second, he knocked it to the ground, then glanced in the direction that it came from.

What he saw was a young woman who still had some childish features left on her face. The moment he laid his eyes on her, an image of his energetic step-sister appeared in the back of his head, and his mind overlapped their faces together.

Both her appearance and her hair color were similar to Nino, but what was most similar of all were their eyesnand the look of sheer determination in them. Nino's eyes always reflected how she tried to win Sonia's favor, no matter what danger that would put her in.

The thought only lingered in his head for a moment. But that moment cost him his life.

A single stream of blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth. It was caused by Eliwood’s rapier, stabbed into his side. When he realized what had happened, it was only for a moment, but a smile flashed across his face.

"...I've long waited for this time. Now… it has finally come…" He coughed up a pool of blood, then lost all of the strength in his body, and collapsed to the ground with a large crash.

Eliwood, having just barely managed to win such a close fight, stared at Lloyd's body in shock for a long moment.

Rebecca, the person to save Eliwood’s life, also sat down next to him, her adrenaline-filled nerves seeming to have snapped.

The battle was over.

All of the remaining members of the Black Fang had already been defeated by Eliwood's allies. This moment closed the curtain on the Black Fang's history. But in his heart, he did not feel the glory of victory. On the contrary, he felt hollow and lonely.

Neither side had wished to fight. If they'd met both Lloyd and Linus under different circumstances, Eliwood knew they would have become allies. 

He forced his exhausted body to stand up and turned again to face Lloyd's corpse, lying beside him. Then, he lifted his sword upwards to salute him. "...We held the utmost respect for you and your strength… May you… rest in peace…"

Hector and Lyn both rushed up to him, saw what he was doing, and copied him to also show their respect for those who had died in this battle.

A cold wind blew across the mountain plains.

As they each felt it hit them, each member of Eliwood's army felt as if the Black Fang were the same as any of their other allies, strengthening the intensity of their hatred for Nergal, who had used the Black Fang as nothing more than a tool to fulfill his own grand ambitions. 

[tytoreadsjpgog]

Book 1 - START!

Here we gooOOOOO

Welcome to my liveblog of ガフールの勇者たち ! (gahuuru no yuushatachi -> Heroes of Ga'Hoole)

Remember a while back, when I bought the Japanese translation of the entire Guardians of Ga'Hoole series? I’m going to document my attempt to read through them with my elementary level grasp of the language. It’s going to be one part nostalgic re-read (not at all spoiler-free, sorry!) and one part language-learning crash course. I’ll try to organize my thoughts on the latter aspect in a way that non-speakers might still find interesting.

For instance, notice that Book 1, originally titled The Capture, has been renamed 悪の要塞からの脱出 (aku no yousai kara no dasshutsu -> Escape from the Evil Fortress). I know what you're thinking, and yes, from what I've seen, everything is going to look and sound way more badass compared to the original.

This is gonna be a long, slow, probably painful process, but by Glaux we're DOING this.

Note in the example above (from the first page of chapter 1) how the green-highlighted phrase 落ち着かない (ochitsukanai -> restless), which looks pretty complicated to me, does not have any smaller furigana characters to its right showing how it's actually pronounced. Kids at the book's reading level presumably already know, but I had to write the characters into a translator app to find out.

On the other hand, the character I highlighted in purple is 卵 (tamago -> egg), literally one of the first kanji that Duolingo taught me in its earliest lessons. But here it DOES have furigana (the tiny たまご to the right), so I guess Japanese children don't officially learn that character in school until a slightly higher grade level! Man, language is wild.

Anyway, back to reading the actual content of the book.

The first page of the book, before even the table of contents, is labeled ガフールの伝説 (gahuuru no densetsu -> The Legend of Ga'Hoole) and summarizes what Ga'Hoole fans would recognize as the classic “Coming of Hoole” tale. In addition to making me extremely emotional, it also drops several juicy proper nouns we’ll be seeing again later, including 最果ての地 (saihate no chi -> The Farthest Land) for Beyond the Beyond, 火の石 (hi no ishi -> the Fire Stone) for the Ember of Hoole, and ガフールの神木 (gahuuru no shinboku -> Sacred Tree of Ga'Hoole) for the Great Tree.

Guys we're not even on chapter 1 yet and there is SO MUCH happening. It is going to take me forever and a day to get through this. I'd better get started......

第一章 (daiisshou -> Chapter One)

ティトの森の家 (tito no mori no ya -> The Home in Tyto Forest)

So that’s, uh, interesting. Turns out Tyto is pronounced “tee-toh” in Japanese. That’s never not going to be weird. BUT, we must soldier on!

...Okay so, I think at least to start, the best way for me to do this is to go page-by-page. I’ll give my miscellaneous thoughts as I go, but then at the end of each page I’ll give a summary of what actually happens, to test my reading comprehension. (...This is going to turn into a straight-up school homework assignment dhgdjshfj.) In time, maybe I'll pick up enough speed to go through a few pages at a time, or even a whole chapter? But we'll see. That's far in the future right now. 

Without further ado...

６ページ (the table of contents etc are all numbered pages, so chapter 1 technically starts on page 6) :

I’m excited every time I recognize a word, but I’m also hype to learn all the new animal/nature-related vocab in these books. I already knew “owl” was フクロウ (fukurou), but now I also know that Barn Owls in particular are called メンフクロウ (menfukurou), which thanks to my unquenchable etymology thirst I then found out comes from 仮面 (kamen -> mask). Fair enough, as many of the species in the Tytonidae family are called Masked Owls in English, too!

Also, fir trees are モミの木 (momi no ki)! I have nothing else to add about that, I just think it sounds nice. :) Momi. 

(Fun fact for fellow non/early-Japanese-speakers: it’s customary for the names of most plants and animals to be written in the simpler, phonetic katakana alphabet instead of kanji, especially in a scientific context. So something like the word “monkey” (saru) would almost always be written as サル even though there IS a kanji spelling of the same word: 猿  This certainly makes it easier on people like me struggling to learn enough kanji as it is!)

...BOY HOWDY, I’m trying to read aloud as I go because I need to get the pronunciation in my head as well as recognizing the characters, and the phrase 胸の綿羽  (むねのめんう -> mune no men’u -> chest feathers) is kind of a tongue twister!

Anyway, onto the summary.

六ページの要旨 (Page 6 Summary) Soren (ソレン Soren) is a young Barn Owl who lives in a fir tree in Tyto Forest, and he’s about to become a big brother. His parents, Marella (マレラ Marera) and Noctus (ノクタス Nokutasu) fret over the state of the nest until suddenly a crack appears on the egg! Soren’s older brother Kludd (クラッド Kuraddo) grumbles, “Again?” Noctus scolds him--doesn’t Kludd want another little brother? Marella interrupts that it could be a sister.

Let’s do one more page for today, since this project is so VERY overdue!

...

７ページ

First thing of note is that Soren uses ぼく (boku) as his personal pronoun! In Japanese, there aren’t really third-person pronouns as we think of them in English, so other people are either referred to by name/title or you’re simply meant to figure it out from context. First-person pronouns (like English’s “I” and “me”), on the other hand, are not only used but are numerous and varied. Which word a person uses to refer to themself can vary based on gender, formality, and even just personality/preference! This excellent article on Legends of Localization gives a more detailed explanation, for anyone curious! I personally find this quirk of the language super fascinating and will be going out of my way to take note of how all the characters refer to themselves. :3 I expect most of them will be the common watashi or boku, but I’ll be interested to see if I’m proven wrong!

... And, unsurprisingly, we immediately learn that Kludd uses おれ (ore) for his personal pronoun. It’s another common masculine option, but, unlike boku, it often comes with more of a tough/strong/harsh connotation, and is thus on the more informal/crude side.

...

Fascinating. It’s never been totally clear to me if “branching” is really a proper word even in English to describe this thing where fledging birds practice flight by hopping from branch to branch, but when I put 枝渡 (edawatari) into the translator, it literally gives back “branching”. In the exact same sense, as far as I can tell.

...Hm! “Flight feathers” is 風切羽 (kazakiribane), which is literally written as “wind-cutting feathers”. Badass.

...One of the things that I think is going to be hardest for me to wrap my head around with this language is the regular use of onomatopoeia as just, like, whatever part of speech they wanna be. Sometimes they’re used as adjectives, like on the previous page when Marella described her husband’s “fluffy” (ふわふわ fuwafuwa) feathers, and sometimes they’re verbs, like this page’s description of the egg “rattling” (かたかた katakata). And sometimes they’re just literal descriptions of a sound like how we typically use onomatopoeia in English. This page describes a sudden “click” (カチッ kachi-) sound, for instance.

七ページの要旨  (Page 7 Summary) Soren pipes up that he’d like a little sister. Kludd jeers that Soren’s too young to even know what the word means, then complains that whether it’s a brother or sister, he’s missing out on branching practice. Noctus scolds him again, saying there’ll be plenty of time for practice later, and that it’ll be another month before Kludd’s flight feathers are grown in anyway. A noise from the egg grabs the whole family’s attention, because Barn Owls have very sensitive ears, and Marella joyfully cries out that the time has finally come. The egg rattles and shakes...

And that’ll be it for this post. My HOPE is that this process will get faster and shorter with each page. At the very least, this first few pages should be among the most densely packed with brand-new characters and noteworthy vocab to discuss. 

Not sure how often I’m going to be updating this liveblog, but for now let’s shoot for a bare minimum of one page a week? Cool? Cool.

[phillipfancypants]

Also: I want to add something based on my experience being in my undergrad through all of this. When I started college in 2021, AI was Not A Thing. Like, I used CleverBot in middle school but got bored with it by high school. Then in my sophomore year we saw the rise of ChatGPT and DALL-E and everything was flipped on its head.

Writing and History professors started getting rid of take home essays, opting to switch to oral exams, in-class papers, or handwritten essays. Some CS professors straight up banned AI code, other professors encouraged it (but made project prompts harder). No one knew what to do.

I saw the bad sides of AI first. I lost a science-related art contest to an AI-generated work. I had to redo entire sections of a group project during my study abroad because my group member was using AI to solve things (poorly) and didn’t think to tell us. I had to make the call as a TA grader on whether a student used AI to write code, or whether they really were just that dumb.

But slowly, I started to see some good sides too. And that was scary. I held off for a long time and started off small. I realized I could use Chat-GPT as a sophisticated Ctrl-F when wading through hour-long interviews for my student newspaper (i.e. I could ask it “Give me a direct quote from this interview that relates to X-topic"). I also started to use it as a tip-of-my-tongue thesaurus at times. You can tell it "I want a word that is similar to these words/concepts" and it's a lot better than finding something "close enough" using a single synonym.

I also took a class last semester called "Cognition in Writing" that changed my worldview in many ways. The professor was one of the coolest people I know—they did their undergrad in Computer science and linguistics and then went on to get a Brain and Cognitive Science PhD with a focus on how the brain is able to create words and thoughts. The bulk of her graduate research was literally the science that Chat-GPT was built on. And so she knows *exactly* what it can and cannot do. They're now a professor in my school's writing department and are very involved in discussions over what is and isn't okay in terms of using Chat-GPT in the department.

She was the first person I ever heard using the term bullshit in an academic context—in AI study, it's a term used to explain the fact that AI Cannot Think. It can regurgitate information it's been given, but it cannot think for itself. Across that course, they would often give 2 options for each homework assignment. One that encouraged us to try out generative AI and think for ourselves about what it got right/wrong and another option that explicitly did not use AI, for those of us with ethical or environmental concerns. (I mainly did the non-ai because I found AI to be too much of a hassle to deal with).

Anyway, this is all a roundabout way of saying that, as far as my current education has taught me, these taggers are doing exactly the right thing. One of the biggest ideas that my professor wanted us to walk away with when it came to AI was to disclose not only when but how AI was used. In the screenshot, notice how the tags range in severity. Some tag options say that AI was used only to write the title. Others say that they used AI to translate some phrases/sentences into other languages. Some people cited that an AI conversation was the inspiration for their fic, but that the text itself was human-written. Some people cited using AI grammar checkers. And of course, some people said that whole chapters or sections were AI written.

The important thing is that almost every tag was specific and honest. And at least in academia now, that's what we're being taught to do. Keep logs and screenshots of every conversation. Mention when and how AI was used. Because in academia, your use of AI is your responsibility. If it screws up, that's on you.

I fully support this tagging system because it allows people to decide what they're comfortable with reading. To me, that limit is probably that I don't want the text of the body to be AI-generated and I don't want to read things that are re-writes of character-AI interactions. I'm fine with an AI title or a bit of translation here and there. As long as the author is honest. You might have a different limit--perhaps you have environmental/art theft concerns that mean you don't want AI to be involved at any stage of the process. Or maybe you're fine with any/all AI usage. The important thing is that people are tagging their usage and that we can read those tags before we start reading.

OP asks if these people "have no shame" and that's an unfair assumption to make. In the grey areas of "just the title" or "just some translation," I'd much rather have people be upfront about it. Readers deserve to know what they're about to read and make decisions for themselves.

do people have no shame anymore?