#so many books aren’t translated into english

[fiapple]

anyone know which of the free language-learning apps works the best? i need to pick up another language for reading purposes, like, very desperately!!!

[jimmy-dipthong]

The difference between あのー and えーっと

As I touched on in my japanese goncharov post, it’s amazing how much novel research, entertainment, and art are locked behind a language barrier. Even though as english speakers, we are privileged to have many things translated into our language, it’s a simple fact that most things will not be translated into most languages.

I am a huge fan of ゆる言語学ラジオ, a japanese podcast about linguistics. The hosts recently released a book, 言語沼, which goes into detail about some of the subconscious rules native japanese speakers follow but aren’t consciously aware of (an english equivalent might be that adjective-ordering rule we follow e.g. big brown cow, not brown big cow). I’m finding it fascinating, and I wanted to discuss some of it here in english, because I think people learning japanese would find some of these things really useful. It’d be a shame if this knowledge stayed stuck behind the japanese language barrier when the people who would find it the most useful can’t speak japanese fluently enough to read it!

The book talks about how most Japanese people will think of 「あのー」 and 「えーっと」 as having the exact same meaning - they’re both “meaningless” filler words. Despite their belief that they’re the same, those same native speakers will subconsciously only use あのー in one particular type of situation and 「えーっと」 in another, and even feel confused or annoyed if they hear another speaker use one in the wrong context.

So what’s the actual difference? 「えーっと」 is used when the speaker is taking time to remember or solve something. For example, the following exchange is very natural:

Person A: 7 x 5は？ Person B: えーっと、35だ

This makes it a pretty versatile filler word! You can use it pretty much anywhere. Another example would be when you’re talking to yourself, trying to remember where you left your keys.

えーっと、鍵どこ置いたっけ？

On the other hand, あのー is much more specific. It can only be used when you’re taking time to figure out the best way to phrase something. For example, when you’re trying to get a stranger’s attention.

あのー、ちょっといいですか？

In contrast, if Person A was addressed with 「えーっと、ちょっといいですか？」by Person B, they’d feel it was rude because instead of considering how to say something, B is considering what to say, which gives the impression that they hadn’t even figured out what they needed to ask before addressing Person A.

This gives 「あのー」 a more ”polite” feeling than 「えーっと」, even though neither is actually more polite than the other. They’re just used in different circumstances.

Let’s quickly look at the example with the lost keys again. If you replace the filler word:

あのー、鍵どこ置いたっけ？

It is very unnatural. The authors of the book jokingly say that it sounds like you’re talking to a ghost, because 「あのー」 is only used when you’re figuring out how to phrase something, and you wouldn’t worry about that if you’re talking to yourself.

Also, did you know even japanese children properly use each filler word in the correct situation? Despite almost all japanese people (even as adults) being unaware of this rule, they’re subconsciously abiding by it even as children - just from listening to their parents follow the same rules!

It really is amazing how good your subconscious mind is at acquiring language, and how terrible your conscious mind is at it. If you’re not already, I highly recommend integrating a lot of simple language content (e.g. youtube, kids shows, etc) into your study routine - listening to people talk is simply the fastest way to become fluent in your target language.

[sky-kiss]

Raphael x Tav: Coffee Shop AU Pt. 2

A/N: Continuing from this, because someone wanted Raphael's POV and I wanted to goof off instead of writing serious things.

______

She’s a Barista. How Did it Come to This?

______

As a professor of the English language and literature on the whole, Raphael has no small amount of experience when it comes to divining an author’s intent and reading subtext. Years of honing these talents allow him to translate Haarlep’s intended message: ask the barista out. 

What he actually says is, “It’s been seven months, old man, is this a joke? Skip dinner and fuck the poor thing sideways.” Which is uncouth, uncivil, and utterly par for the course for the younger man. 

“Why are you here?”

Haarlep shrugs. He’s currently sprawled out across the only sofa in the teacher’s lounge, both monopolizing the space and looking too cramped on the loveseat. Korilla rolls her eyes, leaning over his feet to pluck another paper from the pile. The University has afforded him two assistants this semester. Only one is pulling their weight. But Haarlep’s is not without use. Between himself and his assistant, he has never seen: 

Such positive class reviews. 

So many female students with a vested interest in classical literature. 

It’s frankly uncanny. 

“You’d be happier for taking my advice.” 

“Not everyone is playing ‘catch the venereal' disease, Haarlep,” Korilla mutters. Haarlep shoots her a look. Something unspoken passes between them. In the absence of words (and Korilla’s repentance), Haarlep digs their heel into her thigh before sitting up. 

“Oh, take me with you. One evening, Raphael. That's all I need. And you and your sweet barista will be happy little lambs.” 

“Aren’t you busy?” Raphael eyes the essays. 

Haarlep waves him off. “Unimportant. I hate to see you so solemn, dear. Please.” 

And unfortunately, there’s no denying Haarlep anything once they’re in full flow. Gods save them all. 

_________

Fifteen minutes into the drive, he insists on silence. Raphael is always one for a good discussion, but Haarlep is a peculiar breed. He whiplashes from topic to topic with an alacrity most find disorienting and asserts opinions so occasionally outlandish that Raphael wonders if he believes them. The smirk says he doesn’t; half of what they do is for their amusement, the little shit. 

“You must like her,” Haarlep mutters. “The cafe might as well be in a different city.” 

“Don’t be so dramatic. We’re half an hour from campus.” 

“Mmm.” 

He doesn’t like that sound one bit. Or the look his assistant is giving him. Raphael grumbles, motioning for the younger man to go ahead of him. The bell on the door chimes when they step inside, and he’s overcome with that feeling of peace.

Tav’s shop smells equal parts coffee shop and bookstore, the slightly spicy scent of old paper lingering on the air. He associates the smell with snowy mornings spent indoors, curled beneath his covers, safe and comfortable. There are seating areas and tables, yes, indicative of any metropolitan cafe. It’s the books he fell in love with. Shelves and shelves of books, of all genres and ages. You were as likely to find a history of naval battles as you were an airport bestseller or romance. 

Haarlep pulls a face. “It smells like a library.” 

“That will be the books, you troglodyte.” 

They accept the gibe gamely enough, stuffing their hands in their pockets. Haarlep scans the place with their frankly unsettling, at times preternatural, gaze, weighing every barista. They linger on Tav. “That one?” 

“How…” 

“Raphael, you are aware of what attraction looks like, yes? Do you have some cursory awareness? That girl looked at you with the stupidest doe-eyes when you walked in. It made me a little upset. Or nauseous.” He waved a hand. “Hard to say which.” 

“Your dramatics are noted, Haarlep. Find a book. I’ll order for us.” 

“Oh, good. More reading.” 

He is very aware of Haarlep’s eyes on him as he approaches the counter. It pales in comparison to the roiling feeling in his gut. The voice in his head (sounding too much like his father) screams every time he gets close. She’s too young; they’re from different worlds. She won’t look at him. If she’s polite, it’s because she’s paid to be polite, Raphael. Tav smiles at him; the expression lights up the entirety of her face. He thinks, in that moment, that she is one of the most singularly lovely creatures he’s seen. 

“Raphael!” She uses his name. Tav leans forward on the counter, beckoning him nearer. Her little friends behind the counter share a look among themselves, snickering. “I took your advice.” She points to a shelf on the left side of the store. He recognizes the book: one of his recommendations. “You were right. I couldn’t put it down. I figured others might enjoy it too. If you have any more suggestions…” 

“Of course. Of course! It’s…very nearly my profession!” 

“Isn’t that your profession?” 

He smirks, dipping into a half bow. “Among other things. You’ll find me a font of philosophy and tired rhetoric. Should it ever strike your fancy.” 

“Mmm. You do know how to sweet talk a girl.”

He thinks he hears Haarlep groan from across the cafe. Tav is looking at him, and the weight of that stare leaves him parched or hungry. Raphael clears his throat. “May I ask how you found the ending?” 

“Why doesn’t she explain it to you,” Shadowheart says, sliding a coffee to him. “Over dinner? Say six?” 

Haarlep winds an arm around his waist, resting their chin on his shoulder. “Six is perfect, my beauty. He can’t wait. Italian?” 

“Her absolute favorite. Passatempo?” 

Haarlep reaches out to shake the she-elf’s hand. “He’s never been. But he’s so eager to try.” 

It is, perhaps, the most surreal way he’s ever gotten a date. Tav stares at him in sputtering horror, her face a vibrant red. Raphael saves her, writing his number on one of the cafe’s business cards. He hands it to her. “My number. I look forward to our…” 

“...date.” She finishes, so conclusively, so resolutely, that he laughs. 

“Yes. Of course.” 

[saltydkdan]

Salty i wanna get into Baki which one do you recommend,the manga or the anime?

Oh you just woke up the fucking beast (I'm so sorry).

I LOVE this question, and as a recent Baki fan myself, I can tell you that getting into the series as a Western consumer can be rough if you don’t have a basic guide to know what you’re getting into…. so that’s what I’m gonna make this post (TEEHEE).

This series has gotta be one of the most insane shonen- actually no- one of the most INSANE PIECES OF FICTION I've ever experienced, and I NEED more people to check it out. Like, LOOK AT THIS SHIT DUDE.

Baki out of context somehow even puts Jojo's Bizarre Adventure to shame. The way I usually pitch it to people is that Baki is as insane as people THINK Jojo is before they read it. Shit is just... MAN LMAO. OBAMA IS FUCKING IN THIS.

Unlike more popular stuff like Dragon Ball and Hunter x Hunter, a lot of this series has just never been officially localized, so knowing where to start, and even how to support the series, is a hard task if you don’t know what you’re doing.

Thankfully THAT’S WHAT YOU HAVE ME FOR. This Tumblr post is gonna be your one stop shop for how to get into Baki as an English speaker (and it’ll give me some space to ramble about one of my latest favorite series).

But uh before we get into the nitty gritty, wanna put some trigger warnings for the series for those who may want to know. Listen, I know how some of these are gonna look to the average person, but this series just be like that sometimes, if you can’t take stuff like this trust me it’s insanely valid. You’ll understand if you choose to take the plunge.

SERIES TRIGGER WARNINGS:

Animated Blood/Violence, some animated gory imagery, Incest (???), Nudity, Urine stuff, Bigfoot/Animal Violence, Death, Uncomfortable looking muscles, and one instance of sexual violence (offscreen)

If you are comfortable with all that (and again, valid as fuck if you aren’t) then let’s talk BAKI!

First off, Manga or Anime?

You would think that either would be fine, but my personal recommendation for Baki as a beginner, is to watch the anime over reading the manga. Simply put: The anime is a lot more widely available and accessible in English speaking territories, and is fairly easy to support officially with its current iteration.

For whatever reason, the manga just never really took off in the West when compared to other series, so it was only ever officially released in English a handful of times, and they only ended up publishing the first few volumes. Theoretically, you can read the first few books to start, but the entire series all together is legit longer than One Piece at a whopping 1,203 chapters, so you are gonna run out of material real quick. The fraction of officially available manga barely scratches the surface of the series.

Even if you’re stubborn about reading the manga and want to try reading fan translations, they come with their own separate batch of issues. Plenty of fan scans you can find online range from wildly outdated, to generally being poor quality at best. There’s even some fan translations that just straight up make shit up and don’t even properly translate the original script. Adding in extra dialogue and slurs randomly to make the text seem way edgier than it actually is.

Full disclosure, I wanna cut through my bias here and say that there are indeed some great scans available on the internet if you look hard enough, especially for the more recent content! But they aren’t super easy to track down with how the series is formatted, and you may accidentally find yourself reading the story out of its proper order.

The watch/read order of Baki is a bit of a toughie for new people, but is actually pretty simple once it’s explained. The story of Baki is split up into multiple different series, kind of similar in format to Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure. Though instead of “Parts”, Baki is split up into completely different manga and TV series. This is why many fans get confused initially, especially with the watch order, because it isn’t laid out in an easy to understand way at first glance.

The most well known series are currently streaming on Netflix, but those aren’t the ones you wanna start with. Nope, the story of the Baki anime actually starts way back in 2001, in a TV show that isn’t streaming officially online. Now if you want to watch out of order, I’m not gonna stop you. You can do whatever you want, by all means, but you’re gonna be missing some VERY important story context, and some characters just won’t hold the same weight.

So if you DO want to watch in order, come with me my friend. Let me show you-

BAKI’S SUPER COOL AND NOT AT ALL CONFUSING WATCH ORDER:

Baki the Grappler (2001) (24 episodes)

This is the original 2001 anime adaptation, the very start of serialized Baki anime. You’re gonna wanna start here trust me.

This series isn’t streaming anywhere officially online, but you can find it… places. Seek it out, trust me, because otherwise you’re gonna pay way too much for out of print DVDs on Ebay. Thankfully though you have options! The series is both subbed and dubbed (as well as every series I discuss from this point forward.

This show is the very start of serialized Baki anime, the very beginning of Baki Hanma’s story. Although it’s not in the way you may think. Despite this being the earliest point in the Baki timeline, it’s actually an adaptation of a later story arc from the manga.

Now I know what you’re thinking, “Didn’t you just say this is where I should start? Why is it adapting something from later in the story?”, and yeah it’s valid to be confused. While yes this is the first ever Baki anime, for some reason the staff behind it made the decision to move this later arc up a bit from the original manga. In my honest opinion, I feel like this is actually a great decision.

As you will see as you watch, this honestly FEELS like this should be where the story begins. The escalation of power and storytelling from this point onward feels very natural, and you won’t miss out on anything or spoil yourself whatsoever on later events.

This is the de facto best starting point.

Grappler Baki Maximum Tournament (2001) (24 episodes)

This is effectively the second season of Baki the Grappler. For whatever reason they decided to title it something else, and while this is the norm for the series later on, this name change is weird because it adapts an arc from the original manga just like the first season of anime I just talked about.

Whatever lol.

Anyway this series, much like the previous, isn’t officially available as of now. So your best option is to SEARCH for it. SEARCH on the INTERNET. Or y’know. The good ol’ expensive out of print DVD on Ebay route.

In my opinion, compared to the first season, this one feels a bit slower paced and a bit of a slog at points but HOLD STRONG TRUE BELIEVER. This season is the introduction to a lot of mainstay characters in the series. Many of which you will come to love, even if you don’t know it yet.

BAKI (2018) (39 episodes) (NETFLIX)

This is the modern adaptation of Baki. After the last series ended in 2001, the anime went on hiatus for 17 years before it was announced that it would be coming back with a modern coat of paint.

Contrary to what you may think, this isn’t a ground up reboot. It’s a continuation of the exact point they left off years ago, right after the Maximum tournament. The only thing that kind of sucks about this is that, at least for the English dub, they replaced most of the voice cast. Most of the new VAs do a great job, however you may need to get used to Yujiro Hanma having Shadow the Hedgehog’s modern VA from the games haha.

Thankfully, you can officially support this series easily via Netflix. Normally I’m pretty eh on Netflix as of late, but this being the only way you can support the show officially in the west, I personally recommend it.

Baki Hanma (2023) (39 episodes) (NETFLIX)

This is the most recent anime! It’s also on Netflix.

Me and my friends just got to this on our watchthrough together.

Anyway, this is my list! If after you catch up you wanna hop into the manga and read the fan scans, I’ve heard that you can start on Baki Hanma/Baki Son of Ogre (chapter 183).

Hope you enjoy the funny man punching show! Feel free to report back and tell me how you feel about it (positive OR negative)!

Like I said, I've been watching the series with friends on Discord every night or so when we're free and MAN. Baki is fucking AMAZING WITH FRIENDS. It just never slows down after a certain point, and it just gets stranger and crazier.

[wososcripts]

I've Been Getting Lost In Translation (Part One)

Stina Blackstenius x Reader

Summary: You finally get to meet your girlfriend’s parents, but you aren’t sure they’re aware the two of you are more than just friends.

Word count: (nearly) 5.5k

A/N: Okay so we’re all gonna have to expand our minds and suspend disbelief for this one, especially if you speak Swedish (I do not lol). This idea was originally formulated in German, and then altered - so cut a bit of slack for the author <3 As usual nothing I write is meant to represent or speculate about players’ personal lives in any way, it’s just for a bit of fun.

For context, in Swedish the word for girlfriend is flickvän, or väninna but the latter is a bit outdated and used by older people (according to google, and my one Swedish friend) while friend is just vän. However väninna is also used to refer to a "female friend" not just a romantic partner.

Also, everything written like this in italics is spoken in a language other than English (just not written as such to avoid too many translations)

Warnings ⚠️: none, a bit suggestive in some parts.

------------------------------------

“Söt, it’s time to wake up, we have to be at the airport by ten.” You were awoken by your girlfriend’s soft voice in your ear.

You groaned, wrapping your arms around her and burrowing closely into her chest, ignoring her protests.

“What time is it?” You complained, noticing it wasn’t even light outside.

“Nearly seven.”

You pulled her closer, making your displeasure known.

“Nearly seven? Stina, how long do you think it takes to get to the airport?”

You felt her plant a kiss on your head.

“With you? There’s no telling how long.” She indulged your drowsiness for a moment, rubbing your back softly and pressing her cheek to your hair.

Stina was always more of a morning person than you were, and she was certainly more used to getting up while it was pitch black than you ever wanted to be.

“Okay, I’m getting up now.” She announced, peeling your arms off of her and rolling away from you.

You opened your eyes to get a look at her barely illuminated silhouette, messy hair and strong shoulders stretching before she got up to face the day. Her night shirt hid the muscles that you knew rested beneath, as well as the nail marks you had left a few nights ago that she had scolded you over. Well, if she didn’t want them she shouldn’t fuck you so well, (apparently not a good enough excuse in her book).

You resigned yourself to the fact that there was no going back to sleep and sat up yourself. You checked your phone, making sure you had your boarding passes ready and that the flight was leaving with no delays. The two of you were lucky with the weather this year, and you hoped it would continue. Flying back in a snowstorm wasn’t something you wanted to deal with.

“Are you up?” You heard Stina call from the bathroom.

“Yes, Stina!” You replied, swinging your feet to the floor and grimacing at the cold wood beneath them.

Stina laughed at your unhappy face as you cringed at the light of the bathroom. She brought a hand up to pat your cheek affectionately. You gave her a sarcastic smile and began brushing your teeth.

-------------------------------

It didn’t take all that long to get ready, double check your bags, and get dressed. Certainly not get-up-before-seven long.

You watched Stina braid her hair from where you were perched on the counter, admiring the concentrated look on her face. Tea was brewing in the kitchen and you had already cut up some fruit for breakfast.

“What are you staring at me for?” Stina teased, pulling a hair tie from her lips to finish her braid.

“I’m looking at you because you’re beautiful.”

Stina shot you a look, already catching on to what you were doing. But the blush still rose on her neck all the same.

“We don’t have time for that, älskling,” she said, though you knew she didn’t have much resolve where you were concerned.

You made a point to check your phone.

“Since you made sure we were up early, it’s only 7:30.” You shot her your best smile, tugging slightly on her shirt.

She moved towards you with little resistance, only an exasperated face for show. But she had no problem following you into a kiss, her hand resting on your jaw and your legs around her waist. Her warmth surrounded you, encasing you like a blanket. You almost forgot there was anything to do today at all other than kiss her.

You could tell Stina was getting turned on by how her hand slipped under your sweater and pushed your undershirt out of the way so she could press against your bare skin. Once she threaded her fingers into your hair and lifted your head so she could move to your neck you knew it was over.

“Are you sure we’ve got time?” You mumbled, putting a hand softly on her chest.

“Don’t start what you can’t finish,” she replied, lifting you up off the counter with ease.

------------------------------------

“Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck…” you cursed, downing the last bit of your tea and pulling a brush through your tangled hair.

“Stina!” you called out into the other room where your girlfriend was getting (re)dressed. “Katie is waiting outside!”

You heard the distinct sound of your girlfriend swearing in Swedish and couldn’t help but let out a laugh in disbelief. You shot Katie a quick text that you’d be right out—thanking her again for coming to pick the two of you up. She was flying out later in the afternoon for Ireland, and had suggested carpooling to the airport. Any opportunity to skip the price of parking at Heathrow was a good enough reason for you.

Stina came into the kitchen with her bag in hand, looking frazzled.

“Remind me never to listen to you again.” She grumbled.

“You can’t help it,” you said smugly, handing her a mug of coffee and a wrapped bagel for the car. “Look, I even made you breakfast.”

Stina continued to mumble her complaints as she handed you your jacket and put her own on. You chuckled along, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

Katie was on her phone mindlessly as you knocked on the window, making her jump in her seat.

“Fuck, was that necessary?”

You shot her a grin, reaching in the now rolled-down window to unlock the door.

“Good morning to you too, Katie.”

“Sure looks like you’ve had a good morning to me.” Katie laughed, noting the slight warmth to your face. “Stina’s never late.”

As if on cue, your girlfriend appeared outside. Katie greeted her kindly as she put the suitcase in the trunk and settled in the backseat. No mention of your morning shenanigans came out of Katie’s mouth sparing the embarrassment you both know would ensue.

Stina was private. Very private. Of course, once she let someone in, there were few things she found necessary to hide. But for most of the world she preferred to keep a low profile. That meant no social media posts, no PDA, and only a few people on the team were privy to the fact that you two were together. You didn’t really mind it, especially since it seemed like everyone Stina cared about knew. You didn’t think she was trying to hide you—or, at least, no more than she tried to hide the rest of her personal life from prying eyes.

The car ride was mostly quiet, Katie had her Spotify connected and the three of you chatted sparingly over it. She was going back to visit her family for the first time since her nephew had been born, something she was over the moon about. Though it wasn’t a particularly long break—just over two weeks—you were going to miss her and her infectious energy. Even Stina, reserved and introverted, was a bit more gregarious when Katie was around. Everyone joked easier with Katie in the room.

------------------------------------

Stina hopped out of the car the second the three of you pulled into the lot at Heathrow. You were running a bit late, nothing worrisome, but you needed to get a move on to ensure that you would get on this plane.

“It’ll be fine,” Katie assured you, putting a hand on your shoulder.

She knew you were a bit nervous to be meeting Stina’s parents for the first time. You’d been doing a lot to try and prepare, studying Swedish to try and impress them (and tell if they were talking about you when they thought you weren’t listening), fussing over the gifts you brought, the clothes you picked out. You hadn’t told Stina because it was silly, you knew. Her parents were lovely, they had to be if they had raised someone like Stina. But still, you were a bit stressed about it.

“They’re gonna love you. There’s no way. You treat Stina like she fell from the sky, you’re smart, you’re kind, you have a wicked left foot, what else could they want?” Katie squeezed your shoulder reassuringly. “Just don’t mention you’ve never been to IKEA, that might get you kicked out.”

You gave her a small smile, a bit too nervous to joke back. And you hardly had time to, because by then Stina had gotten the bags and was waiting. You pushed open your door and took one of the bags from her, shooting her a smile. She seemed to know you and Katie had been talking about something sensitive because her eyes searched you with a bit of concern and she laced your fingers together.

Once Katie had paid for parking the three of you were off, ready to embark on your afternoon of traveling.

You weren’t a big fan of planes, but thankfully you managed to sleep almost the entire flight to Stockholm. It helped that you were able to lay your head in Stina’s lap, never more thankful for the size of business class seats and the salary that allowed you to afford it. She played with your hair gently, knowing it was a guaranteed way to relax you.

You came to as the flight attendant announced you’d soon be landing in Sweden.

“Sorry I left you alone for most of that,” you apologized, sitting back up in your seat.

Stina waved you off, giving your hand a squeeze. You suddenly felt quite nervous about this whole ordeal. You were really going to meet Stina’s parents in about an hour. This was a big step, you knew it. What if they didn’t like you? What if they thought you weren’t good for Stina? Was there something about you you could improve so they’d accept you more? What if you just didn’t fit in, plain and simple. You knew that it was mostly your anxiety talking, but it was difficult to quiet the questions in your head.

“Söt,” Stina nudged you, pulling you out of your reverie, “What are you thinking about?”

You shrugged, fiddling with the hem of your crewneck. Stina stilled your hands, her eyes boring into the side of your head until you met her gaze.

“I’m just a bit nervous, that’s all.”

“To meet my family?”

You nodded.

Stina smiled softly, rubbing the back of your hand.

“You don’t need to be. They know how happy you make me, and that’s what matters. You’ve made London feel like home. And besides,” she turned to whisper in your ear, “I like you enough for them all.” She pressed a quick kiss beneath your ear, pulling away before anyone’s eyes could linger on the two of you.

------------------------------------

Getting off the plane and through security was fairly easy, and before you knew it you were waiting in the arrivals hall for Stina’s parents. Your heart was beating out of your chest, your palms sweatier than normal. Stina was beaming, her head swiveling as she looked around for her family.

Finally, she spotted them.

You hadn’t seen them outside of photos, but immediately you could see the resemblance between them and their daughter. They were tall, much taller than you, and dressed warmly in heavy coats and scarves.

“Mamma!” Stina called, waving her hand to call them over.

Their faces broke into wide smiles at the sight of their daughter, something that made you miss your own family a bit. Maybe next year you could convince Stina to come to Germany for the holidays.

“Stina!” The two of them wrapped her in a big hug, squeezing her tightly.

Once she was given the chance to breathe, Stina pulled back and ushered you forward, introducing you.

“We’ve heard lots about you,” her father said, shaking your hand firmly.

“All good things, I hope,” you joked lightly, still trying to get over your nerves.

“Of course.” Stina whispered as her mother shook your hand too, the both of them giving you polite smiles. Usually Stina would put a hand on your back to reassure you, but it stayed firmly by her side as you did your best to fight down your anxiety.

“Okay, let’s get out of here! Traffic is horrible!”

Conversation in the car quickly dissolved into Swedish, spoken faster than you had ever heard it before. Amanda and Lina certainly didn’t speak with each other this quickly—did they? You did your best to reply to the questions you caught directed at you, and keep up with the rest of the conversation. Words flung around your head as you tried to make sense of them in time for the next.

“Is it too much?” Stina asked quietly, leaning over to whisper it to you, “I told them you had been learning Swedish.” You shook your head, giving her a quick smile.

The house Stina’s parents lived in was about an hour and a half from the airport, outside of Stockholm. It looked like something out of a children’s christmas book: snow blanketing the roof, warm light streaming through the windows, a few strings of lights decorating the railing along the porch.

You were introduced to the rest of the family staying for Christmas: Stina’s half-sister, her brother and his wife, their little boy, Stina’s aunt, and her grandfather who mostly sat on the couch and watched ice hockey. It was a bit overwhelming, but in a pleasant way. Everyone seemed kind, and perfectly welcoming to you, which slowly made your nerves settle. By dinner you felt almost comfortable chatting with her brother about how Eintracht Frankfurt’s season was going (after finding out he was a fan) and listening to the tales of her father’s trips to Germany for work when he was younger. It wasn’t ideal that Stina was seated across from you, and the fact that you two had barely talked all evening, but you chalked it up to her enjoying getting to be with family. Hell, she saw you practically every day.

Once you were all finished with dinner and dessert (a wonderful small chocolate cake that melted when you cut into it) you helped to clear the dishes and wipe the table with Stina’s mother and aunt. Stina had been whisked away by her father so he could show her something new he’d built for the basement, and you were left with a mouthed “sorry” and a sympathetic glance.

You didn’t mind much though, the quiet monotonous task was actually quite soothing after the intensity of the day. You weren’t even really listening to the conversation between Stina’s mother and aunt in the other room where they were cleaning, too focused on your own thoughts until you heard your name.

"Jag är glad att Stina verkar ha hittat någon som är bra nog för henne"

"Ingen är bra nog för min tjej," Stina’s mother joked, "Men ja, hennes väninna är söt. Lite tyst kanske."

"Det är svårt att träffa föräldrarna, släpp henne lite"

You didn’t catch all of the conversation, or even much of it if you were honest. They continued chatting, your name and the word väninna popping up intermittently. You wracked your brain to try and remember what the word was, you’d definitely heard it before, but couldn’t for the life of you remember where.

So you pulled out your phone and sent a text to Amanda asking her what it meant. You probably should’ve been able to understand more, but a headache was beginning to brew behind your eyes and you were well and truly exhausted. It was fairly early, but you were hoping you would be able to excuse yourself from after dinner nightcaps. With a night’s sleep you would feel better.

Your phone dinged, a message from Amanda already lighting up your screen. You wiped your wet hands on a towel and quickly unlocked it, frustrated that you couldn’t remember yourself what it meant.

“Lol It’s like a female friend, not many people use it anymore” The message read. Amanda began typing again. “I hope you’re enjoying Sweden❄️ Merry Christmas!”

Your heart sank a bit. You were confused. Why would Stina’s family be referring to you as her “female friend”? Was this the fifties? You sent a thank you message back to Amanda and assured her that you were enjoying yourself.

You finished up the dishes, unable to stop thinking about the conversation you had overheard. Maybe you had misheard? But then again, the word had come up multiple times. Maybe Stina’s family misunderstood her and thought the two of you weren’t dating? Maybe she hadn’t told them?

The last thought surprised you. You couldn’t think of a good reason why Stina wouldn’t tell her parents the two of you were together, not after almost a year together. Why invite you to Sweden in the first place if not because she was ready for the next step? You thought things were pretty serious.

“Hi älskling,” Stina came up behind you, wrapping an arm around your waist.

You leaned back into her embrace, having missed the contact. It helped soothe your racing thoughts a little, having her this close.

“Hey,” you replied, twisting to place a quick kiss on her jaw.

“If you keep doing the dishes I’m not sure my mom will let you leave.”

You chuckled, the sound catching in your throat unexpectedly, sending you into a coughing fit. Stina rubbed your back, grabbing a cup to fill with water from the tap.

“Are you feeling okay?” She asked, stroking your face softly, “You look a little run down.”

“I’m just tired…” you explained, “and I can feel a headache coming.”

It wasn’t a lie. Maybe not the whole truth, but part of it. Your confusion still weighed on your mind.

“It’s been a long day.” Stina agreed. “I think I’ll join you for an early night.”

------------------------------------

You tried to hide your surprise as Stina’s parents opened the door to the room you’d be staying in.

Two twin beds.

“This used to be Stina and Linnea’s room when they were little.” Her father explained, showing you the pictures of the two of them as young girls that hung on the wall. You smiled at the image of a ten year old Stina in her handball kit. Next to it was a photo of her lounging at the beach, probably seven or eight.

“I thought we were getting Nils’ room?” you heard Stina whisper to her mom.

“And this is Stina’s first football trophy.” Her father continued, showing you the small gold statue that rested atop the dresser. “I said that day, I knew she would be on the Swedish team one day!”

“You did not, Papa. You wanted me to go out for basketball.”

“Well you were so tall—”

You tuned out the rest of their playful bickering, deciding to take a seat on one of the beds and take a look at the room around you. It was kind of sweet, being in Stina’s old room. It was like seeing a different side of her. Old posters still adorned the walls, messy handwriting still littered sticky notes on the desk.

“Well, we’ll see the two of you tomorrow. Sleep well.”

And with that the two of you were alone. You pulled your backpack over to the edge of the bed and found the ibu that you had brought with you, popping one in your mouth and swallowing it dry. You felt the bed beside you sink and a hand run gently through your hair, soothing the pulsing of your temples.

“Come here,” Stina motioned, pulling you into her so you could rest in her lap. “Is it bad?”

You shook your head.

“It’ll be fine in a moment, it’s just been a long day.”

You weren’t sure how long the two of you sat there, her stroking your hair, you listening to the sound of her heartbeat mixed with the noises of her family celebrating outside. The thoughts in your head trickled through every now and then, but Stina did a good job of beating them back just by being there. She loved you, she loved you, she loved you. You clung to those words.

Eventually you both had to get up and get ready for bed. There was an adjoining bathroom that the two of you had to yourself, thankfully, which made everything much easier. You didn’t have to leave the little bubble you’d created for the two of you.

Then there was the problem of the beds. There was no way in hell you were going to sleep on the other side of the room from your girlfriend as a grown woman. Stina suggested pushing them together, which you did with a bit of struggle. It worked well enough, as long as nobody rolled into the middle. Essentially it was still sleeping in two beds, but it was the best you could do.

“Good night,” you mumbled, trying to get comfortable in the small bed. You reached a hand out for Stina’s, managing to find her fingers so you could lace them together.

“Good night, jag älskar dig.”

“Love you too, Stina.”

------------------------------------

The next morning you awoke to the smell of coffee and the sound of the news playing in the other room. Your headache was gone—a small miracle—and your girlfriend’s back was visible next to you along with a mess of her blonde hair on the pillow. You rolled over to see what time it was, seeing that it was barely eight o’clock.

You quietly got out of bed, hoping to let Stina sleep a little longer. You usually didn’t get more than nine or ten hours maximum, but you knew Stina could sleep from 8pm to 9am easily if nobody was there to interrupt her.

You brushed your teeth and used the bathroom, enjoying a bit of peace with your thoughts before you faced the day. Katie had sent you a message, a photo of her with her nephew on her lap. She looked ridiculously happy, the smile on her face threatening to eclipse the rest of it. “You’ve gone soft, McCabe,” you wrote to her, smiling down at your phone as well.

Stina was still sleeping when you snuck out of the room, having changed into more appropriate clothes to face her family in.

“God morgon,” Stina’s mother greeted you as you walked out into the kitchen.

You wished her the same, settling down in one of the chairs at the island.

“Would you like some coffee? Tea?”

“Coffee, please.”

A mug of black coffee and a carton of milk were placed before you, along with the promise of oatmeal in fifteen minutes or so.

“Is Stina still asleep?”

You nodded.

“She’ll probably be up soon, it’s 8:30 already.”

“Here she is,” Stina spoke, rubbing sleep out of her eyes as she walked into the kitchen.

She kissed her mother on the head and settled into the chair next to you, shooting you a smile as she poured her own coffee. You internally frowned: usually, Stina always gave you a kiss to greet you in the mornings, whether it was at your place or hers. You tried to tell yourself you were overthinking things, but already you could feel the weight in your stomach returning.

“Did you sleep well?” Stina’s mother asked.

You nodded politely, deciding not to comment on the fact that your room had two twin beds. Do you know I’m dating your daughter? As in, we’re romantically involved? As in, we sleep together like grown adults? You imagined yourself saying, but you kept your lips closed.

Slowly the rest of the Blackstenius family trickled in, minus Stina’s brother who was staying with his family at home in Stockholm and would be joining them later in the day. You all gathered around the dining table where a large pot of oatmeal sat, fresh fruit, cinnamon, and sugar adorning the space around it. You sat next to Stina at the end of the table, accepting her offer to serve your breakfast for you.

“This is delicious,” you complimented.

The table was soon full of light chatter in a mixture of Swedish and English. You made light conversation with her sister about her studies, and her decision between going straight to pro or attending school first. You’d done the latter, wanting something to fall back on in case you were injured. But getting your degree while playing had been a difficult task, you warned.

You placed your hand lightly on top of Stina’s where it rested on the table, hoping just to get a bit of reassurance for yourself. But perhaps it was the wrong move, because Stina quickly pulled her hand away, offering her father the bowl of cut apples in front of her for his porridge.

You pulled your hand back into your lap, feeling ashamed and embarrassed. Was Stina so worried about what her parents might think that she couldn’t even touch you for more than a few seconds at a time in front of them. You did your best to continue your conversation with Linnea, ignoring the lump in your throat that was forming. Each time you tried to tell yourself you were overreacting, the voice in your head got less and less convincing.

You didn’t meet Stina’s eyes for the rest of the meal, nor did you try to talk to her. There was a bit of you that was angry and indignant. Why would she treat you like this? You knew you didn’t have the full story, and you wouldn’t until you asked her, but it didn’t feel good on the surface. You just counted the minutes until breakfast would be over and perhaps you could have a second to yourself to calm down. Otherwise you weren’t sure how you would cope.

Your chance came not that long after, as Stina offered to help clean up after breakfast with her mother while you got ready. The eight of you were supposed to go ice skating before it got dark, which meant you should leave by 10:30 for the rink.

------------------------------------

You locked the bathroom door behind you and took a deep breath in through your nose and out of your mouth. You knew you were already on the verge of tears. Your head was getting the better of you, and there was only one person (other than Stina) you wanted to talk to right now.

“Hallo?” Laura’s voice came through the phone.

“Hey, Laura.”

“Was ist los?” She replied, immediately sensing your tone over the phone.

You and Laura had known each other for years, having played for the same club and German national teams since you were barely out of high school. There wasn’t much you could hide from her, especially not when she could hear your voice.

“Ich bin in Schweden, zu Stina’s.” You continued in German, not wanting anyone to be able to listen in on you. Even Stina would have a hard time understanding once you spoke quickly.

“Is everything okay? Did something bad happen?” Laura asked you. “Can we switch to video? So I can see your face.”

You switched on your camera, allowing Laura to see your teary-eyed face. You were sure you looked pathetic, especially over such a small thing.

“What happened? Did Stina do something?”

“No, of course not.” You defended your girlfriend, even though you weren’t completely sure it was true. Had she really not told her parents the two of you were together? Was she hiding it, trying to slowly introduce you as a friend first until they got used to you? You just couldn’t make sense of it.

“Then what’s wrong? And don’t try to say it’s nothing, or it’s little, because if it’s making you cry clearly it’s worth talking about.”

Laura always seemed to know the right thing to say. She was fiercely protective over you, no matter the situation. She reminded you of Katie in that way.

“You know Stina is private… and that we haven’t told many people we’re together on the team.” You heard Laura’s grunt of approval, “Well I got here, and it just seems like she hasn’t told her parents we’re together. I would’ve thought since we’re in her parents home she would be a bit more affectionate, like she is at our apartment or when we’re around Katie or Amanda, but we’ve hardly touched the entire day.” You took a pause. “I know it probably sounds silly—”

“Nope, hush with that. It doesn’t, keep going.”

“Well, you know I’ve been learning Swedish for a few months with Amanda’s help and obviously I’m not great yet, but I’ve been practicing so I could try and understand more while I was here… I’m not positive but I think when they talk about me they call me Stina’s friend. I don’t know if I’m being paranoid, I probably am, but combined with how Stina’s acting…I just don’t know what to think.”

By this point your breathing was uneven, the emotion you’d been trying to clamp down spilling over. Tears leaked out of your eyes and you swiped at them roughly. Your breath came in shallow bursts, unable to fully fill up your lungs. You just didn’t want to fuck this up. And now you were left questioning where you even stood with Stina—you were okay with some privacy, but not with this. Your parents knew about her, she had met most of your friends, even those in Germany over FaceTime since you couldn’t physically be together. Did you occupy the same place in her life that she did in yours?

“I need you to take a deep breath for me.” Laura said, her voice calm. You tried to follow her directions. “You need to ask her, be up front about it. Otherwise you’re going to drive yourself crazy the whole time you’re there, trying to analyze everything. Just ask. And if she hasn’t told them… then figure out why. Maybe there’s more to it than you think.”

You nodded, still trying to breathe. You got in the bathtub, as you often did when this happened as a teenager, and kept Laura on the line.

“Can you just talk about something for a little while? Anything really. I’m sorry to interrupt your break but—”

“Don’t worry about that. Of course I will.”

So you laid there in the tub as Laura went on about the new coaching staff at Frankfurt, about the train problems that had made her three hours late to her parents’ house yesterday, about her photo book that had just come out and how it was doing. Not long after you felt yourself drifting off, heart beating normally and your tears mostly dry. Laura didn’t let you off the line until you had promised that you would keep her updated, and let her know if she needed to come and rescue you and “take you back home with her”.

The universe’s timing seemed to be on your side, because only a few minutes after you had reapplied a bit of foundation around your eyes and washed your face, Stina knocked at the door.

“We’re going to head out in fifteen minutes, could I get in there?”

You opened the door and gave your girlfriend a smile, beckoning her in as you stepped out. You didn’t quite trust your voice yet, so you stayed silent.

“Is everything okay?” Stina asked, cocking her head sweetly.

You knew if you said anything you’d start crying all over again—and you hated yourself for it. So you just nodded, smiling again before slipping back out into the bedroom. There you threw on a nicer outfit and steeled yourself for the next few hours to come. Everything would be fine, no matter what. You had dealt with worse—more heartbreaking things, more disappointing things, you’d had your heart broken before and you had survived. You’d endured pain worse than anything that could happen in the next few hours.

[genoskissors]

Guide to Understanding Genocider’s Many Names

Genocide Jack has many names and it can be hard to understand why so many people use different ones or spell them differently, so I attempted to make a guide that is as comprehensible as possible.

Something to know before hand

Kanji: More complicated, such as 翔

Hiragana: Simple and smooth, such as しょう

Katakana: Simple and sharp, such as ショウ

Let’s get the “Genocide” part out of the way

This part of her name is written in katakana, (ジェノサイダー) and you’ll notice the line at the end. This means the sound is extended, so instead of “da” it’s “dā”. Japanese doesn’t have an “er” so this is used instead, since they sound similar. Her official title is Genocider. The localization simply switched this is be Genocide. I’m not sure why, maybe since Genocider isn’t actually a word, but that’s just my best guess.

Syo VS Sho

Here’s where it get complicated.

In order to make sounds like “kyo”, “bya”, or “ju”, two hiragana are need. First, a character ending in i, such as ki, bi, or ji, characters pronounced like ka or bu cannot be used. Second, one of the three y’s (ya, yo, or yu) in a smaller form.

The character “ki” (き), combined with “yo” (よ), would make “kiyo”. But if the “yo” is written smaller (よ→ょ) then the “i” from the first hiragana is replaced by it. So since きよ is Kiyo, きょ is Kyo. Same for “bya”. びや is Biya, so びゃ is Bya.

Now, we have our “exceptions”, shi (し) and ji (じ). You’ll notice they look very similar, which is why they are both “exceptions”. For “ji” (じ) and “yu”, (ゆ) rather than jyu it’s just ju (じゅ). It’s different since in the case of kyo and ko, it’s a whole other sound, but jyu and ju are pronounced the same, so the y isn’t needed.

But in all my examples, you’ll notice the first hiragana is two letters, which is why it gets tricky for “shi”. Like jyu, shyo is unnecessary, however, h and y are pronounced the same here, so you can remove either one and get the same sound.

Quick Note: I used “kyo”, “bya”, and “ju” as examples since there are Danganronpa characters with those in their names, but, just to clarify, they aren’t the only combinations possible.

The reason I put exceptions in quotes is because this is romanization, there is no rule book saying you must write it this way. While Sho is the most common way to write this, it doesn’t mean Syo is wrong. In fact, the games themselves use this.

However, they also use Sho.

So, really, both are correct.

Syou VS Syo / Shou Vs Sho

> I’ll be calling her Sho/Shou here for convenience.

翔 should be spelt with a “u”, since it’s しょ“sho” then う “u”, so “shou”. Still, a lot of times the u is excluded because it doesn’t sound too different in English. English speakers pronounce “Shuuichi” and “Shuichi” the same, so I suppose the u is unnecessary. You’ll find this is common in a lot of different translations. Even Japanese media that use the alphabet, like the pictures above, will sometimes leave out the u, if following an o or another u.

Jack & Jill

These are just the titles that are strictly English. Since the whole thing about Syo in the beginning was that she’s a serial killer, society will assume it’s a man, so the public will give her a masculine name. In English, people will hear Sho and see it’s foreign, so there’s no gender association. I think it was changed that way so we’d see it as masculine. While I think they should’ve kept her Japanese name like everyone else in the game, I cannot deny how easily Genocide Jack rolls off the tongue.

Overall

All the names work, use whatever you want.

I hope this made sense to at least one person. If it doesn’t, feel free to ask for further clarification!

[five-rivers]

KoF pollfic continued from here.

Edit: I must be tired because I left the poll off again. It is properly attached now. Forgive me.

.

“What’s that?” asked Danny.  “I don’t mind doing stuff other than translation.”  He loved his parents, but they didn’t always get it.  And, yeah, it wasn’t always ghost stuff they didn’t get (even a normal teenager would rebel if their parents tried to keep them inside twenty-four seven), but it was mostly ghost stuff.  Like why he liked Three Twilights so much, or how comfortable he was around Clockwork.  Or exactly what Obsessions were and how they acted.  

… Even Danny didn’t always understand why he reacted the way he did to certain things when it came to his Obsession.  After all, he’d thought he was managing just fine helping his parents with their research and running the occasional errand for Clockwork until this near meltdown.  Maybe it was a variety thing?  Or the way his parents were so resistant to him helping, lately?  

Yeah.  Yeah, that could be it.  It could be a matter of him subconsciously not feeling like he was being helpful, because they kept telling him to not help.  

Ugh.  Why did these things have to be so complicated?  Obsessions were supposed to be simple!  Straightforward!

Stupid complicated social Obsession…

(Not that he’d ever get rid of it, or even want to get rid of it.  Helping people was so important.)

“Here,” said the attendant, standing from her desk and beckoning him towards an inconspicuous door set in the wall.  “I’ll show you.”

Danny took one last look around the copyists’ room, then followed.  Behind the door was a twisted hallway– No, not a hallway.  The room only looked like that because papers and books were stacked so high on the… desks?  Or were there bookshelves under there?  Either way, it was maze-like.  

The only people they passed had golden loops and curls under their skin, and many of them gave Danny confused or suspicious looks before the attendant greeted them.  This was, Danny quickly realized, the staff area of the library, where only members usually went.  Most of these people probably weren’t even just members, but permanent and semi-permanent residents, if the Lost Library was set up anything like the Library of Tongues.  

“You can probably tell that there’s a lot to do back here,” said the attendant.  “Sorting and all that.”

“Is that what you need me for?” asked Danny.  

“Something like that,” said the attendant.  She scratched the corner of her jaw.  “It’s, well, finding things is much more fun than sorting things out so that they’re easier to find later.  So, we get a backlog, and with the recent influx from the Mausoleum…”  She trailed off, seeming to notice Danny’s glances of trepidation at the stacks of paper.  “Of course, we aren’t going to make you do all this!  This is years worth of files and plans, and… I think some of it is just sheets of doodles, actually.  Some of it is structural, anyway, or otherwise indestructible.”

“Indestructible?”  

“Well, anytime the last copy of something is destroyed, it winds up here, somewhere.  It doesn’t matter if it’s bad or good, or if it was just someone’s meeting notes… if it’s the last copy, it’s here.  Somewhere.  And if the last copy is already here…”

“Oh,” said Danny, understanding.  “I get it.  But I’m still not sure what I’m doing…?”

“Oh!  Right,” said the attendant.  “Well, whenever we get new material, it shows up in one of our intake books.  But those operate strictly on a chronological basis, and they only give the title and author in the original language.  Our card catalog needs the title and author in Middle Chinese, Latin, Esperanto, or English, plus the original, as well as the date of destruction, in order to work properly, so you see the issue.”

“So you need me to make the cards for the card catalog from the intake book?”

“Yes!  That’s it exactly!” said the attendant, making the ‘so cute’ face again.  “You pick up things fast.”

“Uh huh,” said Danny.  

“Now, we’re just around the corner– Here!”  

There was a relatively clear space, with a long counter on one side and a massive wall of tiny drawers on the other.  On the counter rested a set of huge books, each one chained to the counter by a stout golden chain.  Some of them were bigger than Danny.  Well, bigger than Danny in his current form.

“Why gold?” asked Maddie.  “That can’t be secure.”

“It’s probably cursed,” said Danny.  

“Oh, yes, we have excellent security,” said the attendant, happily.  “Or, well, the books do, anyway.”  She went to the thinnest of the books and opened it up to the last few pages.  “Here, this is where you want to start.  You can make the cards in any of the languages I mentioned, and the catalog will take care of the rest.  What else…  Here’s a reference of what the cards look like.”  She handed him a rectangular piece of card with a large dark stain on one corner.  “Don’t mind the stain.”

“Right,” said Danny, looking over the format.  “Where can I find blank ones?”

“Drawers under the counter,” said the attendant.  “Oh, and stay here, alright?  Some people don’t like it when guests are back here.  And it’s also, well, a maze.  I don’t want you to get lost.”

“So, um.  Are you staying here?” asked Danny.  

“Oh, no, I really can’t,” said the attendant.  “I’ll check in on you in an hour or so, and then maybe I can show you the children’s section!  If you don’t want to keep working, that is.”

“Uh huh,” said Danny, dubiously.

“And thank you so much.  We really need this done.”

Danny sat down in one of the chairs at the counter, glowered at the edge of the counter, which was about even with his nose, then got some books to stack up in the seat so he could see over it properly.  Then, he started to work.  

“Why doesn’t their card catalog work with other languages?” asked Mom.  “That seems like an oversight.”

“Four is already a good number for things like that,” said Danny.  He glanced over his shoulder at the wall of drawers.  “If you make something like that too smart, it’ll develop sentience and start to 

“Er, Danno,” said Dad, “why are you doing this?  Don’t get me wrong, it’s interesting!  But not what I thought we were doing.”

Danny sighed, and began the long process of explaining his problems to his parents.

About half an hour in, Danny noticed the quality of light had changed.  He looked up.  First at the ceiling, then around the clear area.  Glowing veins of light traced through the air in one of the gaps between piles of paper.  Veins of light that Danny hadn’t caused.  The ones he’d made on his way in had all but faded.  He frowned.  He’d definitely gotten the impression that there shouldn’t be any other guests here.

Maybe someone had gotten lost.  

Or maybe it was another guest getting a tour or helping with something back here.  Danny doubted all of the guests were translators, after all, and they had to earn their way in somehow.

[saint-oleander]

The English title of “Questo mondo non mi renderà cattivo” misunderstands fundamentally the core theme of the series.

There, I said it.

Now a step back.

Italian comic book author Zerocalcare’s second series after “Strappare lungo i bordi” ( “Tear along the dotted line” ) is now streaming on netflix and, while I can’t swear by the translation for I haven’t seen it in English, you should go watch it.

Both of the series are funny and heartbreaking in equal measure, and exist as tales from Zerocalcare’s life as a jumping point to explore more existential topics.

Now, if you haven’t seen them yet, go and do so for spoilers await you under the cut.

The English title netlix chose for the series is “This world can’t tear me down”.

I get that they wanted to draw a connection to the first series (Tear along the dotted line), but the choice is so fundamentally at odds with the message of the series that I’m going to scream into the void about it.

See, a way more actual translation of the title could be “This world won’t make me cruel”.

You’re going to ask yourself how nitpicky can I possibly be. They are close enough, aren’t they? WRONG. And the problem is optimism.

If you’ve seen the series you’ll know that the setting is this: an old friend of Zero comes back after twenty years in rehab. Zero is forced to try and re-acquaint Cesare to the world despite his (perceived) inadequacy. Meanwhile, a neonazi movement is pushing to get a recently opened refugee center closed, and Zero is shocked when he discovers that Cesare has fallen with that crowd.

Sure of the fact that they preyed on his alienation after his many years in rehab, Zero confronts Cesare, who tells him that since he has it all (especially a job) Zero has no right to tell him how he should behave in his desperate situation.

And Zero does believe him, and becomes doubtful of his right to point out what someone in a worse situation should do.

If the point were about resisting in the face of an evil world then the title would fit. But it’s not.

The point, the actual point, is that in the face of evil we don’t have to become evil too. That no one has a monopoly on what’s right and wrong. That the line we must draw is that even in the face of hardship is that we don’t get to kick down who has it worse than us, just to stand a little bit taller than someone.

That’s why “this world won’t make [us] cruel”. It’s not because we are in a righteous fight, withstanding the elements. It’s because we must have a last shred of dignity and courage, to help who has it worse. It won’t be an easy fight, and perhaps not even a successful one.

To believe that the world won’t tear us down is irrealistic, and far to optimistic.

"The world won’t tear me down” is the story of someone’s lonely and rightful stand.

“The world won’t make me cruel”, instead, reminds us that we don’t live in a vacuum, that we are not alone. And that we can’t be right and be cruel to those who are more vulnerable than us.

Even when everything is out to hurt us, we still have to resist the temptation to be cruel.

Mi hanno spezzato le ossa, hanno brindato, e sono vivo.

Questo mondo non mi renderà cattivo

“Questo mondo non mi renderà cattivo” - Path

[somerabbitholes]

I’ve been meaning to read more of Indian authors lately since I sometimes feel kinda ashamed to consume so much of foreign books but not of my own country, but the thing is … I just can’t get into most of them (that I’ve tried so far ). I’ve dnf’ed so many and I don’t even consider myself a picky reader. so it’d be helpful if you suggest some of your favourites that aren’t internationally popular ones.

I understand; I'm also very picky with the Indian authors I read, but here are some I've liked:

Battlefield by Vishram Bedekar (trans. Jerry Pinto): about two refugees fleeing wartime Europe (one Hindu, one Jewish), who meet on a ship and grow really close

Maharani by Ruskin Bond, or Room on the Roof, or The Blue Umbrella: I will turn myself inside out recommending Ruskin Bond, but these are my top three for you

Em and the Big Hoom by Jerry Pinto: about an East Indian family in Mumbai dealing with the mother's mental health; it's a really touching book

Our Moon Has Blood Clots by Rahul Pandita: a memoir of the Kashmiri Pandit genocide and its aftermath; it's a chilling memoir, but really good

English August by Upamanyu Chatterjee: about this elite bureaucrat who gets posted to the "hottest town in India" and how he deals with the locals; it has good satire going for it

Raag Darbari by Shrilal Shukl: another satire; follows a village and through it, explores democracy in early Independent India (or lack of it), the transition for the landed elite and generally most of the village to a democratic society. If you can read Hindi, I would recommend reading the original. If not, there's a translation by Gillian Wright.

[dittydipity]

what is kagepro? - a quick guide

you may be seeing the word "kagepro" around a whole bunch, especially during august, but what the hell is it?

you may have heard or seen something from kagepro without realizing it! you know that vocaloid song, kagerou daze, about the kids who get hit by a truck and are stuck in a timeloop of saving each other? that's actually one of the songs from kagepro.

kagepro, short for the kagerou project, is a series created by vocaloid composer jin (also known as shizen no teki-p). it's a mixed media series that has music, manga, an anime, movie, a radio talk show, books, etc but i’ll try to keep it simple!

basic premise: people who die on 8/15 are taken to another world called the kagerou daze and if they return to the real world, they will have gained a “snake ability” that will turn their eyes red when used. a group of teens that have these abilities form a little gang but are thrown into an endless timeloop.

THE MEDIA

if you want to get into it, there’s a bunch of different ways you can do it, but do keep in mind: each form of media is NOT just a different adaptation of the story.

kagepro is a timeloop story, and each form of media is actually a different timeline (or “route”). the music videos, the anime, the manga, the books - each one is only a piece of the whole story. that’s why many people may have seen the anime, mekakucity actors, and gotten super confused because the anime is actually one of the last routes haha.

but the order of media that has been generally agreed upon to be the most coherent is music videos -> manga -> light novels -> anime

a lot of kagepro media, esp the light novels and manga, are hard to find since they’re almost entirely out of print, but there’s translations or e-book versions of them available, or if you skip them there’s summaries that people have made. you can also ask me if you want :]

music videos

i’ve actually made a couple playlists for the songs! one is in release order and the other is in story chronological order (mostly).

release order: - i tried to get all the original ia/miku versions of the songs with the original pv if there was one - a couple might be a little out of order since some songs came out together in the same album

this is the order that fans got the music, so if you want to try to figure things out and put things together the way we did you can go with this order!

chronological order: - tried to grab some english covers where i could, but if you don’t like eng covers there are plenty of noneng covers or you can use the videos from the other playlist. there's plenty of really great covers out there! - exceptions to the “chronological”: children record acts as the cover/opening song for the series and summertime record is the ending song for the series - some songs aren’t in here bc they’re not part of the music route (they’re mostly from the newer albums and are kinda like ‘epilogue’ songs after the ending of the anime/good ending or are songs made for the anime)

THE STORY

if you don't want to go through all the media yourself, here’s a video explaining the whole story by breadbox/david toth! he also has other really great kagepro videos

[a bit of an extra] a very common misconception about the story/mechanics: people do not have to die in pairs or with somebody else on 8/15 to enter the daze. i didn’t realize this myself until super recently

all in all, the kagerou project is a story about finding strength and support from the people around you, moving on to look towards the future, and overcoming trauma.

there’s definitely other people who have also made guides or summaries or videos that are much better and cover much more than i did, but i hope this was a decent introduction!

feel free to reach out and/or ask me anything! i'm sure there are also plenty of people who would be willing to help newcomers understand kagepro as well :]

happy kagerou day!

[sarahreesbrennan]

Erin go bragh! (Ireland forever.)

Behold, the special Irish edition of my book. I love how golden and fancy it is, like an opulent special treat just for me. (And others. While stocks last!) And it highlights the gilded wings of the queen’s bone throne. I think the gold colour also brings out the cracks in the title, which form in the story and everyone’s lives (distress the title more I coaxed my poor patient designer… now more… hey check out this Sex Pistols logo… Designer: hey shut up (not really, he would never, but he’d be justified).)

Note: it is a paperback, because my people hate hardcovers. I don’t know why, the Irish simply don’t buy them. Sarah J. Maas is super fancy bestselling and I just saw her latest House of Flame and Shadow in paperback on a fancy table in the airport, with the other fancy paperbacks. I buy hardcovers for my favourites myself! I like that they last. (The UK purple edition is what you want, currently, if you wish a hardcover.) But I’m so excited to have a fancy exclusive edition, in the format the Irish most prefer. There aren’t very many copies (exclusive!) so I’m nervously hoping it might sell out!

I’m also excited that it’s Irish. People often think I’m American - maybe because I have a weird accent (Liverpudlian plus Australian plus Scottish plus Irish leads people to go ‘American?’ and Americans to go ‘Canadian?’) or an American literary agent (I would never part with Suzie). I once saw someone ask why I make a fuss about being Irish American - the outrage! No offence Irish Americans, thank you for buying me drinks when I flash the passport in Boston, but I can’t have learned compulsory Irish from age five for nothing. They didn’t let you go to the bathroom without asking in Irish. Someone had an accident! (Not me, I work well under pressure, but not great.) Countries are made up, but I’m still proud of mine. I translated Catullus’s Latin poems into Irish, and the Irish poets in my life (Ireland teems with poets) were so pleased I was breaking away from my filthy prose lifestyle. Ireland doesn’t tax writers (or musicians, or any creators) if they make under a certain amount, which has saved me and some of my friends. As imaginary countries go, it’s a good one. So this feels like celebrating my country, and my country celebrating me, and believing in the book of my heart.

Should you wish fancy limited gold, pray preorder below! Kennys.ie might be the best bet for those outside Ireland. If I collected many colours like Pokémon, which one would you want to see next?

EDIT: The book is in English! So sorry to be confusing. As are Sarah J Maas’s Irish editions. Very few of our books are in Irish, though… perhaps one day… I’d love it, even though despite training from my youth, I’m actually a lot better at Latin.

[starlightandfairies]

Daryl Dixon x plus!size reader: Daryl and the reader are friends (but the reader wishes they were more because she is in love with daryl) and the reader joins Daryl to find more people they run into a bad group and it ends terribly and the reader and Daryl end up in France when they get to the nuns she notices Isabelle getting a little to close to Daryl the reader is jealous of course but she is very good at hiding her emotions so when they find the pre school with the kids that are surviving there before the reader joined Daryl to help get some medication for the kids teacher the reader ask Daryl if there is anything going on between him and Isabelle Daryl said there is nothing going on and why did she ask the reader tells him to forget she said anything but Daryl won’t let it go so the reader tells Daryl about her feelings and that he doesn’t have to say it back because she thinks he doesn’t feel to same way she just rambles on about how she finds herself ugly and Daryl shuts her up by kissing her and telling her he feels the same way and to stop talking bad about her self when they are back on the road taking Laurent (where Ever he needs to be taken sorry forgot the place) Laurent is being stubborn and won't get on the carriage so the reader gets down to talk to him and tells him that the reason he needs to go with him is because he is special and he is the key to curing the zombies and she promises that she won't let anything happen to him and that she will protect him with her life Laurent looks up to the reader because she is very pretty and she is a total badass because she is a good fighter and she puts herself in danger first so the people she cares about won't get hurt and she is very fearless and she doesn't like seeing good people die.

Description: The reader is forced to confess her feelings for Daryl after having suspicions that he loved Isabelle.

Warnings: swearing, fluff, she/her pronouns, twd violence, mentions of injury, insecurities. Based on Daryl's tv show episode 2

*Requests are open, please send through as many requests as you want, check my character list and requesting rules.*

Thanks so much for giving this request!!! I had fun writing it!!!

Key: Y/N = Your Name, POV = Point of view

Word Count: 1623

Daryl and I had know each other for quite a fair few years. After the battle of the Commonwealth, Daryl and I decided to go looking for Rick and Michonne. However, we got fucked over by another fucked up group of people and ended up in the water. I lost track of the days, I have no clue how long we have both been in the water. I felt a slapping against my cheeks, groaning and rolled to my side as woke up to find Daryl hovering by my side. 

After Daryl helped me up, I glanced around, knowing that we were not in America anymore. It was a matter of finding out where we were and what to do. 

“Guess we aren’t in Kansas anymore.” Daryl shot me a look, I stuck my tongue out and gave a smile, sometimes it honestly felt like the best that I could to do. 

“Can’t believe that after all this time you are quoting movies.” 

“What can I say? It’s what you love about me.” God I wish it were true 

After realising we were are in France; Daryl and I began searching for supplies to keep ourselves going for the night. Daryl found an French to English book to help with translations. After a little while longer, these two assholes screwed us over, tried robbing us after we killed two other men that tried attacking all of us. 

A group of nuns brought us in, treated Daryl’s acid burn from the walkers, which I’m glad was treated. Then came Isabelle, I hate to say that it’s been 12 years since the world turned to shit and I still get jealous feelings. Isabelle was too close to Daryl, maybe she hadn’t had a nice man in her life for a while but her beauty and her pretty smile made me feel insecure of my own looks and inability to tell Daryl how I feel made me feel shittier than when I realised I’m going to die before the world is fixed. 

All respect to the nuns; I understand why they did what they did but at the same time, after seeing it go wrong a thousand other times. Keeping a walker alive as a message or just the emotional trauma of losing that loved one is obviously horrible to go through but as soon as we realised that the father was a walker we left as soon as we could only to return and take Laurent, honestly a sweet little boy to safety. 

Daryl and Isabelle were walking ahead, I stayed behind, kicking my feet in the dirt like an upset little kid and carried on as I drowned in my own feelings. 

“What’s going on with you?” Daryl questioned, I glanced up, placed on one of my award winning smiles and shook my head. 

“I’m all good. Honestly, I just want to get back to America.” Daryl nodded believing what I said, turning back to the front and it allowed me to wallow in my emotions again. I loved Daryl, he’s a good man, even if he doesn’t think he is a good man, he is a good man and I wish that he knew that more often. 

Isabelle is gorgeous, more so than compared to me. I mean, I’ve got rolls, even during this shitstorm I’ve got all these skin problems still and I clearly have no confidence in my appearance, even if it doesn’t matter now. I thought the end of the world would mean less problems when it came to appearance and self esteem. But noooo, it still means the same shit goes through my mind like it did when I was dating in college. 

I mean, I can handle the shitty groups that survive off of anarchy. I can handle them, because just a couple of hits to the head and boom not a problem anymore. But my insecurities, they kill me and I hate that I am not strong enough to deal with problems that shouldn’t matter anymore. Staring at what used to be a preschool made me want to cry, the place is being run by children and I wish that these children didn’t have to go through this horrible stuff and could be children in a decently safe world where they didn’t have to deal with no familiarity of what we grew up with. 

“Hey, that teacher needs some medicine, want to come with?” I nodded, glad to finally be getting that one on one time with Daryl again. Walking in the silence became uncomfortable and noticing that Daryl was hanging out with Isabelle a lot I want getting curious to know about where he stood with her. 

“So, Daryl… what’s going on with you and Isabelle?” Daryl shot me a look, as if I really just asked him about something that sounds so childish and like a teenager experience. 

“There’s nothing going on between her and I. I’m just finding out what I can from her that can help us get back home… why?” There it was, that one little question that I wish wasn’t a word. I shrugged slightly, cringing internally as I realised my capabilities to hide my true emotions decided not to work today. 

“No reason.” Fuck my voice is giving me away, all nervous and defensive. Daryl stopped in my tracks, he grabbed my arm, getting me to stop in my tracks. I couldn’t meet his eyes, I insecurely wrapped my arms around my body to cocoon into myself as I always did when I was feeling insecure. 

“Don’t give me that crap. What’s going on?” I tried one more time, hoping that Daryl would give it a reason and not think to ask about it again. That was just wishful thinking. 

“Please, just forget it!” I snapped, Daryl took a step back, shaking his head and grabbed ahold of both my arms gently. I took a shaky breathy, shaking my head and sniffled. 

“What is going on?” 

“I’m in love with you! Okay?” Daryl looked surprised by my outburst, I pushed myself out of his arms and began pacing around the tree covered area we were in.  

“Me! Fat little me, I’m in love with you! And I know you won’t say it back because I know you don’t love me back because I am nowhere near as attractive as the girls I know you’d be with if the world was still normal.” I shook my head, keeping my eyes focused on the ground as my tears fell from eyes and I didn’t want Daryl to see me like this. 

“I’m overweight, I’m ugly, I’ve got rolls and eczema. I’m an insecure little girl who hasn’t changed since high school. My acne scars make me look like I’m a fucking walker. I am ugly and I am not worth anyone’s love, not even in this world because I don’t have that kind of beauty. I am no pretty nor worth anyone’s love and I-“ Daryl grabbed my face in his hands, his lips being placed upon mine and I know it sounds incredibly cliche but it really felt like the world literally stop. Why was Daryl kissing me? I mean I was kissing him back and holy shit it was one of the greatest kisses I’ve ever experienced and I did not want it to stop. I honestly forgot the world we currently lived in is the way that it is but having Daryl actually kissing me until I needed to pull away for air made me feel like I was in a world of a book that I would’ve loved to read in the before. 

“I love you. I love you more than I can even begin to say. I ain’t good with words. But you gotta stop talking down about yourself. You are gorgeous, you are exactly as you should be and I love you. I find you incredibly gorgeous and you have a heart of gold. You are not what that stupid little insecure voice inside your head says that you are. You understand me?” I nodded, smiling as he grinned at me and rested a kiss on my forehead. 

After leaving the preschool, Laurent was angry with Isabelle and wouldn’t get in the carriage that we acquired. It was honestly a very useful invention that made life so much easier. I decided to get out of the carriage to talk to the kid and figure out a way to get him in the carriage. 

“Listen Laurent. I understand that you’re upset and not feeling the greatest in regards to that you feel Isabelle is lying to and I won’t lie to you. Not about something like this. The reason why you need to go with us is that you could be the cure to helping understand a cure for these walkers. But I promise to you I will not allow you to be hurt, I will protect and you so will the rest of us. I will protect you until my very last breath, you’re one of us and we won’t let you get hurt. I promise you and if you feel that I break your promise then you can do whatever you want if it means you feel safe.” 

“I look up to you. You’re… you’re this badass lady that knows how to fight and is a good person because you won’t let bad things happen. You are also very pretty.” I turned to see Daryl watching with a smile, he winked at me and nodded softly as I got Laurent into the carriage finally. 

Daryl took my hand as I squeezed in beside him, resting a final kiss on my cheek before offering his shoulder for me to sleep on. 

[lovebatty]

ㅤ( English and Spanish ver. )

Diabolik Lovers: Haunted Dark Husband — Dark Prologue

ㅤTW: none / ninguna❔

English ver.

—Monologue—

I have always thought that, as long as I can remember, I have never felt the need to venture into something. Maybe it’s normal for kids my age to act this impulsively, kicked out of the woods at such late hours... even out of public places.

It’s not that I don’t believe in magic or the paranormal activity, it’s just that maybe it doesn’t make an impression on me.

Maybe we were never the only intelligent beings on the surface, we just played at believing we were important. Thinking we were unique, valuable.

And if so, why would we be now? In a vast world, where without being —or not being— we cannot be happy and the morning smells like cigarettes.

—Flashback, 10 years ago in Mexico.—

❁ㅤHe still remembers that afternoon when one of his many colleagues took him by the arm to the computer room. It seems like a joke, but Romantic isn’t used to being dragged around. Spring was just dawning in the joy of the 21st century and they ran without any rush just to look at the day’s publications. For a laugh or two. After all, they were children.

Romantic: Vampires?

❁ㅤSaid the kid glued to the counter, more like a murmur to himself.

They? Romantic believed that they had become extinct from cinema; subjugated by entertainment, romantic comedy and Superman. For this reason, the little one could not help but frown, sliding his eyes over that digital page that no longer transmits that intoxicating aroma of fresh ink on his screen.

Romantic: Oh! Incredible! Who knew vampires could develop immunity to their weaknesses.

( Waa! This book is fabulous! If only I had the money to buy it... )

( At least, this girl uploaded all the translations like an angel from heaven would do. Now, I owe her my entire life! )

Hehe. ♪

Even if it’s crazy... If I was a vampire as well, maybe I could do those cool things too. Ah, that most be... too good to die for. ♪

—End of flashback.—

—Currently, «Haunted House» in Japan.—

Romantic: What a joy! I can’t stand this shoes anymore, I should have brought something lighter.

❁ㅤRomantic proclaimed as he looked at the huge houpse.

Romantic: Is this the place?

❁ㅤHe could expect everything, but a mansion is a luxury even for the most greedy. The boy searched his pockets, pulling out a battered sheet of paper with a scrawl of the address. It was the right place.

Romantic: It seems fine... is this really the «Haunted House» everyone is talking about?

❁ㅤHe didn’t have time to think about it. The skies rumbled and the rain became even more aggressive, forcing him to enter the space of that solemn construction without taking even a step back. He stuck to the entrance and carefully knocked on one of the two large wooden doors, waiting patiently in the rain without any response.

Romantic: Hello? Is anyone here?

( I could swear that everyone I asked along the way said this was the exact place. Was I wrong? )

Maybe they didn’t listen, should I knock again?

❁ㅤUnder his voice, his tone hinting at a certain insecurity. Maybe he was too used to the air of his home that being alone and without signal in the middle of the night is a worry.

Romantic: ( I don’t know what to do. There aren’t even any lights on, there’s most likely no one there after all. )

( It was to be expected. After all this place... is the famous «Haunted House» of the street. )

( They say there are monsters inside, but that doesn’t make much sense. After all, there are people living here... It must be a shame that they are considered that way. )

( I’m sure that if I approach them cordially, they will agree to answer my questions about the mansion. )

( I want to be the first to tell their story! It will be a fabulous project. ♪ )

Just one more try—

❁ㅤThe boy tried to knock on the door again by retracing his steps, shaking off some of his wet clothes and tilting his wrist, but his hand stopped in mid-air when the door opened on its own, leaving Romantic fully impressed.

Romantic: It’s open!

( The... the door opened by itself? )

This... can’t be possible, can it? Are there thieves snooping around in there...?

❁ㅤHe spoke while his mouth was partially open, turning his head from side to side to check that no one was there, and letting the wind of the storm blow his hair from the outside in.

Romantic: ( There’s only one way to know how lonely this house is—! )

( God, forgive me for what I’m going to do! I know it’s reckless, but I can’t handle this concern anymore. )

( I swear it’s for the common good... )

❁ㅤFor a brief moment, he had his doubts, but in the end, he never lowered his face as he walked through the lightning inside the house.

Romantic: ( It doesn’t look like anyone is here... but, the door opened. Should I grab something just in case? )

This is all so strange...

❁ㅤWhile paying close attention to all the amenities present inside the mansion, the boy lowered his voice. The house was huge inside, so he didn’t want to make noise in case someone was home.

Romantic: ( I must admit, this house is pretty scary. I wouldn’t blame anyone for thinking it’s haunted... although the decoration is nice. )

It’s so dark, maybe I should go back now...

❁ㅤSuddenly, lightning fell from the sky and light filtered through the window, revealing a figure lying on a sofa in the main room that left Romantic paralyzed.

❁ㅤRomantic walked there, the image of that figure slowly focusing on another male with refined features. He was so beautiful, his red hair covering part of his face as he lay on the couch.

Romantic: ( A person! )

( I feel so bad interrupting... whatever he’s doing, but maybe it’s the best option. )

Romantic: ( What a pretty face... )

( Will he live here? He shouldn’t have left the door open like that. )

Um... Excuse me.

???: ...

Romantic: ( Is he sleeping? He must be a heavy sleeper... )

Hello, are you okay? Please, wake up.

❁ㅤRomantic asked in a low voice, trying to wake him up. He wanted to get closer, but once he ended up accidentally touching the stranger’s hand, a chill ran through his skin.

Romantic: ( He’s... frozen. )

( Did he...? )

Excuse me—

Ugh! Ah...

❁ㅤWithout knowing why, he suddenly clutched his chest and pulled at his clothes as he gasped in pain. A puncture piercing his heart.

Romantic: Agh—!

( What was that...? G-god...! )

( W-what’s wrong with me?! It hurts so much! )

...It hurts...

Unknown voice: Where are you? Where...? Where?

Romantic: ( What... what is this voice in my head? )

( This is all so strange... did seeing this person really affect me that much? I’m afraid something bad has happened to him. )

( ...My sickness must have played a trick on me again... but I have to help this person first, he seems to be alone, I can’t leave him here by his own. )

I have... I-I have to get help, yes. That’s it...

❁ㅤHe staggered weakly, took out his cell phone from his pocket, and looked at the person sitting on the sofa who had not moved yet. He had to help him, help himself. Romantic tried to call someone.

Romantic: Let’s see... Ah, should I call someone to come here—?

???: ...Ngh...

Romantic: !

???: You are so loud...

Romantic: You–! Y-you’re fine!

( He grabbed me by the ankle to sit on the couch... But I can't believe he’s really okay, this must be a miracle! )

Oh, god... I’m so glad you’re okay, I... I thought that–

???: Oh...? What the hell... you’re a guy. What are you doing in a place like this?

Who gave you the permission to sneak out, huh?

Romantic: I’m really, really sorry. I didn’t want to break into your house, and— I did it because...

( I thought he was hurt... Or even worse. )

???: «Because» what? I was just sleeping peacefully... and you ruined it, do you have a problem with that?

Romantic: No, not at all.

???: Well, in that case...

❁ㅤThe redhead smiled mischievously, grabbing the boy’s hips to pull him onto the couch with him, pushing his body against his, making sure to keep him under him.

Romantic: W-wha...?!

( He pushed me! )

???: Heh, you’re like the moth flying itself towards the light, isn’t? Just when I’m hungry.

Romantic: ( ...What did he say? This can’t... )

???: Having a feast right in front of me...

Romantic: W-wait! What are you doing?!

???: That’s what I should ask you. It’s you who appeared out of nowhere!

Romantic: ( Well, he’s right, but that doesn’t mean he have to attack people like that! )

???: What’s happening? Were you suddenly embarrassed?

Just accept it and stay still for me...

Romantic: ...!

( I-I feel like I want to say something, but I can’t... )

No, don’t touch me! Get out of me!

???: Haa?! Who the hell do you think you are to reject me?!

Romantic: D-don’t you dare come any close... you... monster!

( It can’t be true, is this a nightmare? )

( He’s... not a person. He can’t be one! )

???: ...

...How did you call me...?

Romantic: ...?

❁ㅤThe young man suddenly stopped and raised his head when he heard the footsteps of another person who came here and showed some anger, growling through fangs as he turned around.

??? (2) : What is the reason for this scandal? I wish you weren’t so noisy after you woke up, Ayato.

Ayato: Ugh... Reiji...

❁ㅤConfused, Romantic turned and looked at the vampire’s face once more before slowly backing away from him. His eyes fixed on the other’s with uncertainty.

Romantic: ( Ayato...? )

꒰ 𔓕 ꒱ㅤThis chapter comes included with a poem, these are related to the story, but you can skip them. Do you want to read it?

CW: Pregnancy, blood mention.

Greatness is in my veins.

Every morning I find myself, but I don’t see myself in the mirror.

I was just a zygote in the womb of a young mother when they told me that glory ran through my veins, with the pain of the soul and anesthetized of the heart.

I don’t know what it’s like to depend on someone, because my greed has embraced me every sleepless night; with each sentence of his for a confusion and between my footprints the blood of a greedy child.

I always have to be the best because I am full of pride, I am the only one who can handle it and only I can do it. There is nothing in the world that can change the price of your praise.

So, lie.

Let’s see if you see me.

ーー END OF DARK PROLOGUE ーー

Admin's comment 🧚🏻‍♀️

It’s very good to post here again, I already missed doing it. This time, I updated and improved the main lore experience. You guys chose for me to upload the oldest chapters first, and here it is.ㅤ(〃´𓎟`〃)

If you like it, please consider giving this post a fav, reblog and why not, even follow me❕ As always, thank you so much for reading. Have an amazing day.

Versión en Español.

—Monólogo—

Siempre he pensado que, desde que tengo memoria, nunca he sentido la necesidad de aventurarme a algo. Puede que sea normal para los chicos de mi edad actuar de esta manera tan impulsiva, expulsados de los bosques a horas tan tardes... incluso de los sitios públicos.

Tampoco es que no crea en la magia o en lo paranormal, es sólo que, tal vez no me genera impresión.

A lo mejor nunca fuimos los únicos seres inteligentes pisando la superficie, tan sólo jugábamos a creernos importantes. Pensando que éramos únicos, valiosos.

Y si así fuera, ¿por qué lo seríamos ahora? En un mundo vasto, donde sin ser —o no ser— no podemos ser felices y la mañana huele a cigarro.

—Flashback, hace 10 años en México.—

❁ㅤÉl todavía recuerda aquella tarde en que uno de sus tantos compañeros le tomo del brazo hasta la sala de cómputo. Parece una broma, pero Romantic no está acostumbrado a que lo arrastren. Apenas iba amaneciendo la primavera en el júbilo del siglo XXI y corrían sin aprieto alguno sólo para mirar las publicaciones del día. Por una risa o dos. Después de todo, eran niños.

Romantic: ¿Vampiros?

❁ㅤDijo el niño pegado al mostrador, más como un murmullo para sí mismo.

¿Ellos? Romantic creyó que se habían extinguido del cine; sometidos por el entretenimiento, la comedia romántica y Superman. Por eso mismo el joven no pudo evitar fruncir el ceño, resbalando sus ojos por aquella página digital que ya no transmite ese aroma tan embriagador de la tinta fresca sobre su pantalla.

Romantic: ¡Ah! ¡Increíble! Quién diría que los vampiros pudieran desarrollar inmunidad a sus debilidades.

( ¡Waa! ¡Este libro es fabuloso! Si tan sólo tuviera el dinero para comprarlo... )

( Al menos esta chica subió todas las traducciones como ángel caído del cielo, ¡le debo mi vida entera ahora! )

Jeje. ♪

Incluso si es una locura... Si yo también fuera un vampiro, tal vez también podría hacer todas esas cosas geniales. Ah, eso debe ser... demasiado bueno para morirse. ♪

—Fin del flashback.—

—Actualidad, «Casa Embrujada» en Japón.—

Romantic: ¡Qué alegría! Ya no soporto los zapatos, debí haber traído algo más ligero.

❁ㅤProclamó el joven al mirar la enorme casona.

Romantic: ¿Es este el lugar?

❁ㅤPodía esperar todo pero, una mansión si que es un lujo incluso para el más avaricioso. El muchacho reviso sus bolsillos, sacando una maltratada hoja de papel con un garabato de la dirección. Era el lugar indicado.

Romantic: Parece estar bien… ¿es está de verdad la «Casa Embrujada» de la que todos hablan?

❁ㅤRomantic no tuvo tiempo para pensarlo. Los cielos retumbaron y la lluvia se hizo incluso más agresiva, obligando al chico a adentrarse dentro del espacio de aquella construcción solemne sin dar ni un paso hacía atrás. Él se pegó a la entrada y golpeó cuidadosamente una de las dos grandes puertas de madera, esperando pacientemente en medio de la lluvia sin respuesta alguna.

Romantic: ¿Hola? ¿Hay alguien aquí?

( Juraría que todas las personas a las que les pregunte en el camino dijeron que este era el sitio exacto. Acaso... ¿me equivoqué? )

Tal vez no escucharon, ¿debería volver a tocar?

❁ㅤBajo la voz, su tono dando a entender cierta inseguridad. Quizá estaba demasiado acostumbrado al aire de su hogar que, estar sólo y sin señal a medio anochecer es una preocupación.

Romantic: ( No sé qué hacer. Ni siquiera hay luces prendidas, lo más seguro es que después de todo no haya nadie. )

( Era de esperarse. Después de todo este lugar... es la famosa «Casa Embrujada» de la calle. )

( Dicen que hay monstruos dentro, pero eso no tiene mucho sentido. Después de todo, hay gente viviendo aquí... Debe ser una pena que se les considere así. )

( Estoy seguro de que, si me acerco cordialmente, ellos accederán a responder mis preguntas acerca de la mansión. )

( ¡Quiero ser el primero en contar su historia! Será un proyecto fabuloso. ♪ )

Bien, sólo un intento más—

❁ㅤEl niño trató de llamar a la puerta de nuevo volviendo sobre sus pasos, sacudiéndose parte de su ropa mojada e inclinando la muñeca, pero su mano se detuvo en el aire cuando la puerta se abrió por si sola, dejándolo impresionado.

Romantic: ¡Está abierta!

(¿Realmente... la puerta se abrió sola?)

Esto... no puede ser posible, ¿verdad? ¿Podría haber ladrones husmeando por ahí...?

❁ㅤHabló mientras tenía la boca parcialmente abierta, girando la cabeza de un lado a otro para revisar que no había nadie, y dejando que el viento de la tormenta soplara su cabello de afuera hacia adentro.

Romantic: ( ¡Sólo hay una forma de saber que tan sola está esta casa—! )

( ¡Dios, perdóname por lo que voy a hacer! Sé que es imprudente, pero ya no puedo soportar más está inquietud que me carcome. )

( Prometo es... por el bien común. )

❁ㅤPor un breve momento, tuvo sus dudas, pero al final, nunca bajó la cara mientras caminaba a través de los relámpagos en los adentros de la casona.

Romantic: ( No parece que haya alguien aquí... pero, la puerta se abrió. ¿Debería ir agarrando con qué defenderme? )

Todo esto es tan extraño...

❁ㅤMientras prestaba mucha atención a todas las comodidades presentes dentro de la mansión, el chico bajo la voz. La casa era enorme por dentro, así que no quería hacer ruido en caso de que hubiera alguien en casa.

Romantic: ( Debo admitir que la casa es bastante aterradora, no culparía a nadie de pensar que está embrujada... Aún así, la decoración es bastante bonita. )

Está tan obscuro, lo mejor será que regrese pronto a dónde estaba...

❁ㅤDe repente, un relámpago cayó del cielo y la luz se filtró por la ventana, revelando una figura tendida en un sofá de la sala principal que dejó al pequeño paralizado.

Romantic: ( ¡Una persona! )

❁ㅤRomantic camino hasta allá, la imagen de aquella figura lentamente enfocándose en un hombre joven de rasgos refinados. Era tan hermoso, su cabello rojo cubriendo parte de su rostro mientras yacía en el sofá.

( Me siento tan mal interrumpiendo... lo que sea que esté haciendo, pero tal vez sea la mejor opción. )

Romantic: ( Qué cara tan linda... )

( ¿Será que él viva aquí? Porque no debería dejar la puerta abierta de esa forma. )

Romantic: Um... disculpe.

???: ...

Romantic: ( ¿Está durmiendo? Si que algunos tienen el sueño pesado. )

Hola, ¿estás bien?

❁ㅤPreguntó el chico en voz baja, tratando de despertarlo. Quería acercarse, más una vez este terminará tocando la mano del desconocido accidentalmente, un escalofrío le recorrió la piel.

Romantic: ( Él... está helado. )

( ¿Acaso él...? )

Disculp—

¡Ugh! Ah...

❁ㅤSin saber por qué, de repente se agarró el pecho y tiró de su ropa mientras jadeaba de dolor. Un pinchazo que le atraviesa el corazón.

Romantic: ¡Agh—!

( ¿Qué fue eso...? ¡D-Dios...! )

( ¡¿Q-qué pasa conmigo?! ¡Duele mucho! )

...Me duele...

Voz desconocida: ¿Dónde estás? Dime dónde... Por favor, ¿Dónde?

Romantic: ( ¿Qué... qué es esta voz en mi cabeza? )

( Es tan extraño todo esto… ¿realmente me afectó tanto ver a esta persona? Temo que le haya pasado algo malo. )

( ...Mi enfermedad debe haberme jugado una mala pasada otra vez… pero primero tengo que ayudar a esta persona, parece estar solo, no puedo dejarlo aquí. )

Tengo... tengo que buscar ayuda, sí. Eso es...

❁ㅤÉl se tambaleó débilmente, sacó su celular del bolsillo y miró a la persona sentada en el sofá que aún no se había movido. Tenía que ayudarlo, ayudarse a si mismo. Romantic trató de llamar a una autoridad.

Romantic: Veamos… Ah, ¿debería llamar a alguien para que venga aquí—?

???: ...Ngh...

Romantic: ¡!

???: Eres tan ruidoso...

Romantic: ¡Tú–! ¡E-estás bien!

( Me agarró del tobillo para sentarse en el sofá... No puedo creer que verdaderamente esté bien, ¡esto debe ser un milagro! )

M-me alegro tanto de que estés bien, yo... creí que–

???: ¿Ah...? Qué demonios... es un chico. ¿Qué estás haciendo tú en un lugar como este?

¿Quién te dio permiso de entrar?

Romantic: De verdad lo siento muchísimo, no quería irrumpir en su casa, y-yo pensé...

( Creí que estaba herido... O algo peor. )

???: ¿Qué «pensaste»? Tan sólo estaba durmiendo pacíficamente... y tú lo arruinaste, ¿tienes algún problema con eso?

Romantic: No, para nada.

???: Bueno, en ese caso...

❁ㅤEl pelirrojo sonrió con picardía, agarrando las caderas del chico para tirarlo sobre el sofá con él, empujando su cuerpo contra el suyo asegurándose de mantenerlo bajo suyo.

Romantic: ¡¿Ah–?!

( ¡Él me empujó! )

???: Je, eres como la polilla volando ella misma hacía la luz, ¿eh? Justo cuando estoy hambriento.

Romantic: ( ...¿Qué es lo que dijo? )

???: Tener un festín justo frente a mí...

Romantic: ¡E-espera! ¡¿Qué haces?!

???: Eso debería preguntarte. Eres tú quien apareció de la nada, por suerte, justo delante de mí.

Romantic: ( Bueno, tiene razón, ¡pero eso no significa que tenga derecho a atacar a la gente así! )

???: ¿Qué te pasa? ¿De repente te sentiste avergonzado?

Sólo acéptalo y quédate quieto para mí...

Romantic: ¡...!

( S-siento que quiero decir algo pero no puedo... )

¡N-no, no me toques! ¡Alejate de mí!

???: ¡¿Haa?! ¡¿Quién carajos te crees que eres para rechazarme?!

Romantic: N-no te atrevas a acercarte... tú... ¡monstruo!

( No puede ser verdad, ¿es esto una pesadilla? )

( Él... no es una persona. ¡No puede serlo! )

???: ...

...¿Cómo me llamaste...?

Romantic: ¿...?

❁ㅤEl joven de repente se detuvo y levantó la cabeza cuando escuchó los pasos de otra persona que vino aquí y mostró algo de enojo, gruñendo entre colmillos mientras se daba la vuelta.

??? (2) : ¿A qué se debe este escándalo? Me gustaría que no fueras tan ruidoso después de despertarte, Ayato.

Ayato: Ugh... Reiji...

❁ㅤConfundido, Romantic volteó y miro el rostro del vampiro una vez más antes de apartarse lentamente de él. Sus ojos fijados en los del otro con incertidumbre.

Romantic: ( ¿Ayato...? )

꒰ 𔓕 ꒱ㅤEste capítulo viene incluido con un poema, estos están relacionados con la historia, pero puedes omitirlos. ¿Quieres leerlo?

CW: Embarazo, mención de sangre.

La grandeza está en mis venas.

Cada mañana me encuentro, pero no me veo en el espejo.

Yo era sólo un cigoto en el útero de una madre joven cuando me dijeron que la gloria corría por mis venas, con la dolida del alma y anestesiada del corazón.

No sé lo que es depender de alguien, pues mi codicia me ha abrazado todas las noches sin dormir; con cada frase suya por una confusión y entre mis huellas la sangre de un niño avaricioso.

Siempre tengo que ser el mejor porque estoy lleno de orgullo, soy el único que puede manejarlo y sólo yo puedo hacerlo. No hay nada en el mundo que pueda cambiar el precio de tu elogio.

Así que, miente.

A ver si me ves.

ーー FIN DEL DARK PROLOGUE ーー

Comentario del admin 🧚🏻‍♀️

Es muy bueno volver a publicar aquí, ya extrañaba hacerlo. Esta vez, actualicé y mejoré la experiencia de la historia principal. Ustedes eligieron que yo subiera primero los capítulos más antiguos, y aquí está.ㅤ(〃´𓎟`〃)

Si les gusto, consideren darle a esta publicación un fav, rebloguear y, por qué no, incluso seguirme❕ Como siempre, muchas gracias por leer. Qué tengan un maravilloso día.

[lesmisletters]

Happy New Year, and thank you so much to everyone who followed along with Les Mis Letters in 2023! It was amazing to see so much insightful discussion and enthusiasm on Tumblr. Book clubs (brick clubs?) always make reading more fun, and I’m excited for the next round of emails in 2024.

A special thanks to:

@dolphin1812 for brilliant exhaustive chapter-by-chapter daily meta throughout 2023!

@cliozaur for other engaging well-written daily analysis!

@pureanonofficial for lovely chapter-by-chapter daily gifsets of various adaptations, covering over half of the book!

@bobcatmoran for their daily comparisons to the Arai Manga in the early months of the readalong!

@lesmisscraper for their gifsets comparing Shoujo Cosette to the chapters in the original novel!

@pilferingapples for various fun analysis posts, and for participating in the older “Brickclubs” that helped lay the foundation of our tagging system!

@gavroche-le-moineau and other French speakers for giving insight into the pieces of the story that aren’t conveyed in the English translation!

@patron-minette for interesting background and analysis, especially analysis related to Patron-Minette!

@everyonewasabird and @fremedon for the archive of older daily Brickclub posts that helped provide more to discuss!

- and many, many others who shared art, writing, and more throughout the year! Thank you to the people who reblogged and interacted with the fandom even if you never posted, and for the people just read along. I am aware that there are a great many users that I have not mentioned in this post, particularly the people who were more active on Discord than they were on Tumblr, and I am glad for all the conversations we were able to have.

Feel free to shout out anyone you want to appreciate in the comments, and I hope you join us for the next round of daily chapters in 2024!

—mod Mellow

[jeannereames]

Dr. Reames, a simple question from someone interested in history but who is not part of the academic world: in order to study Alexander the Great and Ancient Greece in general, how much Ancient Greek does one have to learn? Would you need to learn Demotic Greek or the many other dialects, such as the one from Macedonia? As in, you’d need to learn one or more versions of Ancient Greek?

Thank you in advance! I always enjoy your responses!

How Much Greek Do I Need to Read about Alexander?

It depends on how far you want to go…what’s your end-goal?

If you’ve no desire to make it a profession, the good news is you need very little Greek.

Most ancient Greek and Latin texts are available in translation in the major languages of (European) Classical studies: English, French, German, Italian. Now, if you want them in Polish, or Japanese, or Bengali, you’ll have more of an issue. But the Loeb Classical Library (and LOEB ONLINE) has English translations of virtually all extant (still existing) Greek and Latin sources, and if you’ve got access to a (larger) college library, they probably have them, even if you have to ask them to get things out of storage. Latin is red (PA6156); Greek is green (PA3612). Budé is the French version of Loeb, btw.

Loeb texts also have Greek and Latin on the facing page, but I mention them because they’ve got translations of (almost) everything. One can find cheaper versions without the Greek/Latin from Penguin, Oxford, et al. But those don’t have, say, Aelian, or Athenaeus, or the obscure texts of Plutarch’s Moralia. Loeb does. That said, the Alexander histories (Arrian, Curtius, Plutarch, Diodoros, and Justin) are all available in relatively cheap translations. Much earlier, in answer to a different ask, I listed our main sources on Alexander, extant and lost. It’s a longer read, but perhaps of interest.

(See below for more online sources in translation.)

So, no, you don’t need Greek. But, if you’re at least moderately serious about reading beyond pop history, you will want to learn a few Greek words to better “get” Greek sensibilities. Say, timē (τιμή), which means honor/public standing/esteem, but has all these attendant connotations. If you start reading the Serious Stuff (articles and academic books), authors will throw these around so it’s useful to know them, as they tend to carry an entire freight of meaning we don’t want to explain every time we use them. These are words I make my students learn in my intro to Greek History class (2510), so there aren’t many. (Undergrads put up with only so much, ha.) For Alexander, it’s also useful to know the Greek names of some units, such as the Somatophylakes (the royal Bodyguard of 7), or the Hypaspists (the specialist hoplite phalanx, not the same as the Foot Companions), or even the name of the long pike (sarissa). But you can make do quite well with a vocab of maybe 30± Greek terms.

It's only if you want to pursue research at the advanced (graduate) level that you’d need Greek. Even then, it’s mostly Attic Greek. The only time you’d need dialects is for quite specific study and/or epigraphy (inscriptions). Epigraphers are language specialists. Most of us, even the “pros,” don’t work at that level. But yes, if you’re getting into extensive examinations of passages, it’s good to understand the language for yourself, not have to trust a translation. Translations are, by definition, interpretations.

I hope that encourages some folks to embark on reading the original (primary) sources. Of more import for these is to understand HISTORIOGRAPHY. Even those who can read the Greek, but lack historiographic training, tend to take stuff at face-value when they shouldn’t.

Go HERE for a discussion of historiography (with regard to Alexander). Again, it’s part of a specific ask, but I explain why we need to know something about the historians who are writing our texts, in order to understand those texts. It’s another longer read, but essential.

Almost forgot! If you prefer video, I've also talked about the sources on TikTok: Part I: Intro & Lost Alexander Sources and Part II: Extant Alexander Sources

Some Useful Online Sources to Bookmark:

Perseus (at Tufts.edu): clunky as hell because it’s old (in internet years), but indispensable. English/Greek/Latin/other texts in translation and original language, plus all sorts of other tools, including an image bank. Pitfall: these are translations outside copyright, so old and sometimes problematic. Still, it’s free, and so-so much stuff here. Every person dealing with the ancient Med world has this one on speed-dial. (You can find other online sources with various texts, but Perseus has, again, almost everything; it’s the online Loeb.)

Stoa Org Static: a version of the original where you don’t have to sign in. Takes you to various super-helpful pages, including the Online Suda (a Byzantine encyclopedia you can search: look up “Hephaistion” there. *grin*) Bunch of other helpful links.

Wiki Digital Classicist hypertext list of topics ranging from the Beasley Library (of pottery) to the Coptic Gnostic Library and various online journals. Just click around, see what’s there.

Topos Text: clickable map of places which includes all references to them in ancient sources. So if, say, you want to know where X places is, mentioned in Arrian, you can find it on the map.

PHI Searchable Greek Inscriptions: I have used the tar out of this. It’s much easier than Inscriptiones Graecae, and comes with English translations.

More Online Resources: more links. This is just one of various collections out there.

Again, ALL this stuff is free. Even when you may have to pay (like Loeb Online), the amount of material you can now lay hands on even without a uni library is fantastic.

JSTOR: requires a subscription, but, if you’re a college student or can get access via a uni library, you can look up material for free. Problem: JSTOR has different subscription packages, and only the really big Class-A Research schools have large holdings for Classics. I’m regularly foiled in things I need, as my library is smaller. I use ILL (Interlibrary Loan) a lot. If you can’t get what you want via your school JSTOR or ILL, sometimes you can purchase a solo copy of an article via JSTOR Google Scholar. But (hint) always check the journal’s website itself. It might be cheaper there! (The Ancient History Bulletin, for instance, is super-cheap; check their archives. Karanos [Macedonia only] is FREE.) Same thing sometimes with books. Certain publishers have rental options, Open Access, etc.

Also Academia.edu first: Your savior…if the author is a member, and has uploaded the paper you want. We frequently face restrictions on what we’re allowed to upload, and when. Yet we may list an article we can’t yet release publicly. That doesn’t mean we won’t send it to you privately via email if you message us and ask nicely. 😊 Especially if you’re not providing an entire wishlist, or asking for a book for free. It depends on the person, and whether they have a PDF.

[esutonia]

a short tutorial on writing majima-speak

So ya wanna learn how to write Majima-speak, eh? Well, I gotta say, you’ve come to the right place. Or maybe the only place? Dunno how many tutorials’re out there fer this shit. Anyway, sit yer ass down and I’ll give ya the scoop on how to write yer favorite fun guy from Kansai.

DISCLAIMER: I am NOT a fluent Japanese speaker. These are all the opinions/observations of an American whose only exposure to the Japanese culture and language has been through anime and video games. I have done my best to research all of these observations before just shoving them into this document, but I probably will make mistakes. Any actual Japanese speakers, please correct me. This isn’t supposed to be an educational guide on the nuances of Kansai-ben. This is only a general tutorial on how to portray the Kansai dialect in English writing.

What is Kansai-ben?

Kansai-ben (or Kansai dialect) is a Japanese dialect primarily spoken in the Kansai region of Japan. Pretty straightforward. Our good friend Majima Goro speaks a version of Kansai-ben that I lovingly refer to as Majima-speak. This is because he doesn’t speak true Kansai dialect—it’s a wobbly mix of Kansai and Tokyo (“standard”) that incorporates elements of both. Ugaki Hidenari, Majima’s voice actor, is from Tokyo himself, and doesn’t speak Kansai-ben natively. However, Majima has a lot of quirky Kansai-isms in his speech that make him stand out from other characters.

Therefore, the focus on writing Majima’s dialogue doesn’t have to be accuracy. We aren’t shooting for a 1:1 translation of Kansai to English, because: 1) that doesn’t exist, and 2) he doesn’t speak perfect Kansai anyway. The point is, we’ve got flexibility.

What makes Majima-speak different from regular Japanese?

There are a lot of cultural and historical nuances that I won’t get into, but in modern Japan, the Kansai dialect is perceived as more comedic or casual than standard Japanese. This is reflected in Sega’s localization of Majima’s voice lines: his are rougher, more crass, and generally funnier than other characters’ lines. If you end up taking nothing else from this guide, at least think rough, crass, and funny when writing Majima. It’s a good place to start.

So how do I write Majima-speak?

There are three tips that I keep in mind while I’m writing dialogue for Majima:

Make sure his lines show more emotion than other characters’ lines.

Use shortcuts wherever possible.

Don’t be afraid to get silly with it.

Let’s elaborate on these tips, shall we?

Make sure Majima’s lines show more emotion than other characters’ lines.

I’d like to use Kiryu as an example here, because he’s by far one of the stiffest-speaking characters in the series. For lack of a better term, Kiryu’s lines are prosaic—they sound more like they were written in a book than spoken by a person. Here’s an excerpt from Kiryu and Majima’s first scene together in Yakuza 2, edited for brevity. Pretend you don’t know what this scene looks like and focus on just the text.

Kiryu: It’s Kiryu. Anybody home? I know you’re here…Show yourself. Majima: It’s been too long…Kiryu-chan! You got any idea how lonely I’ve been since ya got outta the game last year? Oh, but I knew my Kiryu-chan would come home sooner or later! Kiryu: It’s been awhile, Majima-no-niisan. Majima: So, what brings ya here? Kiryu: The Tojo Clan…needs you. Majima: For fuck’s sake…What’s this BS now?! You’re a shitty comedian, Kiryu-chan. Kiryu: I’m serious. The Tojo Clan has never needed you more than now. Please.  Majima: No fuckin’ way. Kiryu: Please. Majima: You’re killin’ me, Kiryu-chan! I can’t stand seein’ ya like this! Kiryu: Please, Majima-no-niisan…the Tojo Clan is as good as dead without the Majima Family. Please!

Notice how Majima’s lines are much longer than Kiryu’s and noticeably sound like an actual person said them because they’re more casual. Kiryu basically repeats “please” three times, but each time Majima’s response is different. You’re able to tell that Majima’s incredulous, then annoyed, then upset at Kiryu’s request by the way he adds extra dialogue every time he says “no.” By contrast, you’re not really able to tell how desperate Kiryu is until he starts begging. The main disadvantage with writing is that you’re not able to convey images as clearly through text, so it requires more work to make a character’s emotions show through their dialogue. Majima’s lines are all about emotion, whether it’s real or exaggerated, so make sure the reader is able to tell how he’s feeling without seeing his face.

Use shortcuts whenever possible.

While conveying a character’s emotions through their speech often requires writing longer lines, this does not mean you should waste space or over-explain. The way you can balance this need for emotion with the need for casual dialogue is by using slang and condensing phrases.

English-speakers do this all the time in common conversation. We use contractions (I am = I’m), smash together words (What are you doing? = What’cha doin’?”), and add slang/idioms (“The hour grows late; I shall soon retire” = “It’s getting late, I’m gonna hit the hay”). The key to writing Majima-speak is to use every shortcut possible and then some.

If it’s hard to come up with dialogue on the spot, try thinking about how a guy like Kiryu would say a particular line. Let’s use the example of: “You always were the one guy I couldn’t read.” Then, think about what shortcuts you could potentially make to this sentence. It’s not much, but this sentence could be cut down to: “Y’always were the one guy I couldn’t read.” Doesn’t that already sound more like Majima said it?

Then, add some more emotion to this sentence: “Y’always were the one fucker I could never getta read on.” It sounds affectionate or aggressive, depending on how you spin it. And there you go! We just Majima-modified (Majimodified?) a Kiryu line. With the power of slang and shortcuts, you too can turn regular dialogue into Majima classics.

Don’t be afraid to get silly with it.

Majima’s a silly guy, so of course he’s gonna have his silly moments. The RGG localization team knows this and takes creative liberties to give Majima’s dialogue more life. My favorite example of silliness in translating Majima’s lines to English is this specific line from Yakuza 2:

Majima says: “Doya, Kiryu-chan? Kakko ee yaro?” Which literally translates to something like: “How’s that, Kiryu-chan? I look cool, right?” This line is dripping with Kansai-ben.

But the localization team chose to translate it as “Whaddya think, Kiryu-chan? Ain’t I red-hot?” Which I love. It conveys so much more about Majima’s character in the same amount of words and even adds some more context from the scene itself. They make a pun on “red-hot,” and while “cool” would’ve worked too, this would have made less sense. The point is, don’t be afraid to get wild with it. If it sounds cooler, is probably is. 

Finally, here’s a few miscellaneous quirks of Majima-speak and pointers that can help you get that much closer to imitating Majima’s style of speech.

Majima rarely uses “you” pronouns, instead preferring to use nicknames and titles like Kiryu-chan, nee-chan, oyaji, etc. This can be substituted for girlie, kiddo, buddy, idiot, etc. 

Don’t replace all the “you”s and “your"s in a sentence with “ya”s and “yer”s. It gets difficult to read if you abuse them.

Majima loves to swear. But again, don’t use them too liberally or you’ll sound like a 12-year-old who just learned what “fuck” means.

Goromi’s speech is a bit more cutesy than Goro’s, but she flips between masculine and feminine pronouns. For the purposes of writing Goromi that’s not terribly important, but keep in mind that she’ll frequently switch between masculine and feminine speaking patterns.

Don’t try to imitate Southern American English (if you aren't familiar with that dialect). I also wouldn't try it in general, but if it helps, it helps.

Edited to add: it's ultimately up to you to decide when/if Majima drops his accent. Personally I reserve it for when he's so emotionally vulnerable he can't keep it up, or when he's being so serious about something he just won't use it.

As a bonus, here is a brief glossary of Kansai-isms that I’ve noticed Majima using, with some examples of their use in context and some suggested translations. Most of these examples are pulled from Yakuza Kiwami 1 and 2, since that’s when he has the most speaking lines and has fully settled into his Mad Dog persona.

Ahō (idiot) = dumbass, bonehead

“Nishida, ya dumbass!”

Beppin (pretty) = stunner, knockout

“Well ain’t ya a rare dish?”

Honma (really) = damn, for real

“For real?! Who are you and what have you done with Kiryu-chan?”

-han (-san)

“Well, now it’s your turn, Legendary Info Dealer-han.”

Akan (not good/must) = gotta be, better not

“That’s why he’s gotta be strong.”

Uchi* (I) = ol’ Goromi, li’l ol’ me

“Just don’t fall too hard for me, okay?”

Ee (good/cool) = badass

“Ain’t I red-hot?”

Ikude (let’s go) = let’s do this shit

“Let’s do this, Kiryu-chan!”

Suman (sorry) = my bad

“This is my bad, Kiryu-chan.”

Anta (you, polite) = ya

“Y’know, up close…you’re pretty damn hot.”

Haw (not really a Kansai-ism but he does like it a lot)

“Haw?”

Nanyatte (what) = what the fuck

“Say what?”

Chau (wrong) = bullshit

“That ain’t what I’m saying.”

Dondon (also not Kansai-ben but he likes this one too. Basically “loud noise”) = clobber, beat the shit outta ya, crack some skulls

“It’s way better if ya fight it out.”

*Uchi is a stereotypical feminine pronoun used in Kansai-ben. Only Goromi uses this one. She also tends to waffle between watashi/ore pronouns.