#the last should be in quotations for the chapter title

[kasienda]

Celebrity Status - Ch 9: One Last Kiss

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 |

Read on Ao3

I was going to post this one tomorrow for the @ladrienjune Day 2 - prompt, Gorgeous, but honestly that one is a little bit of a stretch. And I read caterinawrite's Ladrien June story (go read it! It's starting off so cute!!), and she felt empowered to write for prompts that aren't today. AND I just wanted there to more stuff out today on Day 1!! Because IT'S LADRIEN JUNE!!! And I'm excited!!

This chapter lines up nicely with Day 18 - Secret Relationship and Day 29 - Make Out. Like really well.

Chapter 9: One Last Kiss

Ladybug touched down softly on Adrien’s bedroom floor. He didn’t notice immediately, his attention on his computer screen. 

She let herself just watch him for a moment. Locks of his hair fell out of place and into his eyes, just a less than perfect enough to be endearing. He was reading something and his expression was natural, resting, and just so relaxed. She rarely ever saw him like this.

She smiled fondly, and made herself knock on the window behind her. 

He whirled towards her, his face lighting up like sunshine first creeping over the horizon in the morning. 

Something in her chest twisted - something both warm and sad at once. 

She loved him a little more each day. She didn’t want to end this thing that they had.

She had already lost Alya. Why did she give everything up? 

And so she didn’t stop him when his arms circled around her waist, when his lips found hers. 

He clearly meant for the kiss to be chaste - a sweet greeting to his quasi girlfriend. It was Ladybug who deepened it.

If she was only going to get one more kiss, she needed it to be out of this world. She needed to feel it in her toes. She wanted him to always remember it. 

Because kissing him one last time wasn’t risking anything they hadn’t already risked. Especially since no one could see them. They were in his room inside a mansion that had a three meter wall around it. As long as she didn’t keep visiting him regularly he should be safe.

And so she lost herself in the dance of their tongues, the warmth of his breath, the safety of being held in his arms. 

But it couldn’t last forever.

When she pulled back, his eyes remained closed, his face was glowing in pure delight. He rested his forehead against hers. 

“Wow, what did I do to earn such a kiss?”

Her chest tightened in agony. 

He must have seen something in her expression because his smile dissolved, and his hands tightened on her waist. 

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“We can’t do this,” she said, tears building in her eyes. 

“What? Why not?” he asked, his brows furrowed in confusion. 

“If anyone ever found out, Hawkmoth would never let you be.” 

“No one has to find out,” he insisted. 

“I shouldn’t be visiting you regularly like this at all. It’s too dangerous.” 

He shook his head. “I’m fine. It’s worth the risk. You are worth the risk.” 

She pulled out of his hold. “No! I’m not! Don’t you understand?! He could use you against me, and it would work! I would hand over everything for you.”

He looked thunderstruck. “What?” he whispered. 

“I love you,” she confessed. “I have for a long time. Longer than you realize. I wouldn’t be strong enough. We have to stop this.” 

He stepped closer to her, smiling softly in that way that turned her insides to jelly. His hands cradled either side of her face. 

“Yeah…” he breathed a centimeter from her face. “We should stop.”

His lips were on hers once again. 

They didn’t stop. 

…

Ladybug didn’t visit again for three days. Adrien worried that she wouldn’t come back. 

He really really wanted her to come back, but he wasn’t sure he deserved for her to come back. Had he pressured her the last time? She had tried to break up with him, albeit for stupid reasons, and he had just kept kissing her. 

And that didn’t include the fact that he was essentially lying to her. She had already said no to Chat Noir, and yes, she was the one that insisted they still keep their identities secret. 

He still felt like he was lying about who he was. 

But he had loved her since the day they met for her determination and bravery, for her ability to stand up against a literal supervillain. And over the last few weeks, he’d gotten to see a softer side of her where she could share her fears, where she could let herself be silly. And he loved her more. 

Maybe it was selfish, but he wanted to keep this. He understood that she was scared for him, but he could protect himself. 

If only he could explain that to her. 

When they met for patrol, he probably would have broken down and told her everything except she was so agitated he could barely keep up with her and at the end of it she was off before they could talk. 

Now, he wanted her to come back not for him, but because he was worried about her. She was clearly upset or hurting about something. Maybe she still hadn’t been able to make up with her friend, or maybe the internet was saying something stupid again. 

He just wanted her to be okay, and he thought he could help her get there if she wasn’t already. 

But he couldn’t do that if she wasn’t here. 

She showed up in his room an hour later. 

“Hey, you okay?” he asked when she landed an hour later in his room. 

She huffed. “It’s not like I’m allowed to be anything else.” 

He stepped closer. “What can I do?” he offered, careful not to initiate any contact. She should be the one to decide what she wanted from him. 

“Kiss me,” she begged. 

He was only too happy to oblige. 

“I can’t come again,” she told him later that night. 

He wanted to argue. Instead he only nodded. “I understand.”

She came back again two nights later, sweeping him up in her arms and kissing him senseless immediately. He found himself hoisted up, and his legs immediately wrapped around her waist for support.

Her lips attacked his own, and he met her strike for strike. She trailed down his jaw and his neck, and then into his ear sending shivers down his spine. 

He returned the favor, wanting to make her feel as good as she made him. To distract her clearly from whatever it was that was bothering her even if she couldn’t explain. 

Maybe especially when she couldn’t explain because what else could he do? 

“That really has to be the last time,” she gasped between kisses. 

“Of course,” he agreed readily. 

They both knew it wouldn’t be. 

… 

The akuma caught him completely off guard. He had been in fencing practice when the akuma broke through the wall, demanding his heart. 

She wasn’t just collecting hearts. She wanted Adrien Agreste specifically, which meant he had no way to transform. 

He took off running instead. He made it out of the school into the open, only to trip over a crack. It only cost him two seconds, but the akuma was faster. 

He managed to kick her away. It turned out to be enough because a second later Ladybug swooped down and scooped him up and away before the akuma recovered.

He relaxed against her tiny frame, trusting she could carry him to safety as she had done more times than she knew. 

“What’d you do this time?” she asked with a teasing lilt. 

“I don’t know!” he insisted. “Just an ordinary rabid fangirl I guess.” 

She nodded sagely. “Ah, you committed the crime of being too pretty.”

He sighed. “Anyway! I vote we don’t wait for Chat Noir,” he said. “This one is insanely fast. You can use me as bait.” 

She hesitated, and he mentally prepared himself for her argument. But instead she called for her lucky charm, took in the scene around them, her brows furrowing in that adorable way they always did when’s he was concentrating. 

Then she nodded. “Yeah, okay. Here’s the plan.”

Her plan worked perfectly. Once the akuma was purified, she turned to him with an offered fist. 

“Not bad for a pretty boy.” 

He stepped past her offered fist, and wrapped his arms around her waist.

“What? No fist bump?” she asked, grinning. 

“Doesn’t the princess always kiss the hero who saves them?” he countered, leaning down, hovering a few centimeters over her lips. 

Her blue eyes sparkled. “You’re the princess in this story?” 

“Absolutely!” he grinned cheekily. “Over protective father, locked away in a tower, magic hair.” 

She laughed. “It fits too well!”

“It’s good to see you laugh,” he told her, with a soft smile. “I haven’t seen you laugh as much of late.”

She eyed him, caressed either side of his face in her hands and closed the distance between them. 

Her lips swallowed his own in feelings that were becoming far too familiar but never enough. 

“Stay safe, princess,” she whispered. And then she was gone. 

And he stood alone on an outdoor terrace, wondering how to get down. No one witnessed his lovesick sigh or the grin on his face.

Or so he thought.

…

See you again on Day 6: Social Media ^_^

[queer-ragnelle]

All three! Apologies. I want to learn as much as I can about him.

You got it!

The first text that Galahad appears in is the Vulgate. His predecessors and legacy are first described in The History of the Grail; then he’s conceived, born, and raised during the Lancelot books; finally in Post-Vulgate he’s a knight on Grail Quest where he achieves his life’s purpose and passes away. Additionally, here’s A Companion to The Lancelot-Grail Cycle which may help you navigate the text.

Another book I suggest for your Galahad research is The Legend of the Grail by Nigel Bryant and Norris J. Lacy. It’s got a lengthy introduction about the history of the Grail story and touches on all the characters who’ve achieved it throughout Arthurian literary history including Perceval, Gawain, and of course, Galahad. Each chapter is taken from a different text and newly translated by Nigel Bryant for this publication. It’ll give you an idea of the progression of the Grail story which eventually led to Galahad and introduce you to some adjacent texts that may be of interest.

The next medieval text that includes Galahad is La Tavola Ritonda. It’s mostly a Prose Tristan story, but does cover the whole Grail Quest with a fun Italian Galahad named Galeazzo/Galasso. I enjoy this one a lot! Regarding Galasso specifically, it’s an interesting take on the character—he’s described as very gracious and he wields a cool named sword. Plus his purity grants him necromancy powers—at one point he convenes with the dead and doesn’t bat an eye. Just keeps on adventuring. Focused. In his lane. Pretty neat!

After that comes probably the best known Arthurian text, Le Morte d’Arthur by Sir Thomas Malory. I’ve attached the version of this story abridged by Keith Baines. It’s much easier to read with proper formatting to add quotation marks to dialogue and tighten up the prose. This one also comes with A Companion to Malory which I found exceedingly helpful in breaking down the sometimes convoluted plot threads and character dynamics present in Malory’s story. Many of the essays I’ve attached below relate to this text specifically.

Lastly I would be remiss to exclude The Arthurian Handbook by the goats Norris J. Lacy and Geoffrey Ashe. This volume not only covers medieval texts, but much of the art history that goes hand in hand with Arthurian literature too. There are many paintings, tapestries, stained glass windows, and murals featuring Galahad highlighted in this book. It also includes family trees, heraldry, and maps which can help you conceptualize things detailed in writing throughout the Vulgate.

Now I’m going to list essays without descriptions since there are so many and the titles are pretty self explanatory.

Absent Fathers, Unexpected Sons: Paternity in Malory’s Morte Darthur by Cory Rushton

Born-Again Virgins and Holy Bastards: Bors and Elyne and Lancelot and Galahad by Karen Cherwatuk

Constructing Spiritual Hierarchy through Mass Attendance in the Morte Darthur by David Eugene Clark

Disarming Lancelot by Elizabeth Scala

Galahad, Percival, and Bors: Grail Knights and the Quest for Spiritual Friendship by Richard Sévère

'A Mayde, and Last of Youre Blood': Galahad's Asexuality and its Significance in Le Morte Darthur by Megan Arkenberg

Gender and the Grail by Maureen Fries

Malory and Rape by Catherine Batt

Mothers in the Grail Quest: Desire, Pleasure, and Conception by Peggy McCracken

Seeing Is Believing and Achieving: Viewing the Eucharist in Malory's 'Sankgreal' by Sarah B. Rude

Wounded Masculinity: Injury and Gender in Sir Thomas Malory's "Le Morte Darthur" by Kenneth Hodges

And that about covers it! This should give you plenty to work with. Beyond these, we’re left with literature outside the medieval era, which is a different conversation. No doubt Alfred Lord Tennyson had a huge influence on how Galahad is perceived today, but that’s irrelevant to a discussion regarding medieval source material, and a topic for another time. Hope this helps you out and you learn all you want to about Galahad!

Take care!

[systematicallycapricious]

Here at last, my observations for English P4AU manga volume 4! Same formatting as my prior ones, no holds barred for spoilers, and fair warning that I'm writing this off of notes from 5 months ago; so if I miss some details, I apologize. Hectic life shenanigans have limited my ability to reread the volume. xP

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

General Vibes

On the whole, I found this volume to be the best reading experience out of the 4 Udon-translated volumes. Aside from the persisting issue of conflating Sho and Minazuki via calling both “Minazuki”, as well as a few confusing absences of clarifying quotation marks, the narrative is cohesive and comprehensible.

I also think that it stands really well on its own, so, as I said before, I'd highly recommend Eng-Sho and Minazuki fans pick up Vol 4, even if you've been iffy on the Udon translations up until this point. In all honestly, I think Udon did a better translation of Vol 4 than the fan-translation that's out there on the internet, at least in terms of justice done to the characterizations of Minazuki and Sho. Their dialog, with a couple small exceptions, fit their expected lexicons much better.

(No shade to the fan-translation, of course! I'm still super-grateful that people took time out of their lives to give us some form of accessible translation long before Atlus got on printing an official translation, and the fan-translation is still pretty good with it's own wins.)

Also, Narukami's dialog was translated pretty well too, from what I recall, so fans of his might also find his inclusions in the story enjoyable. As for Adachi and Kagutsuchi... I'm not very well-versed in their characterizations, so I wouldn't be able to say. Adachi's lexicon did seem a bit out of character to me, though; like the underlying vibe is kinda the same as his typical lexicon, but the execution feels more 'censored', I guess? It's just the impression that I got, though.

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

Specific Things

• ...They were so close to getting it right throughout the entire translation, but they stumbled at the finish line. Literally – this was within the final few chapters, and may have even been the final mention of Plumes of Dusk in the story, lol. And it's definitely the same kanji and kana that “Plume of Dusk” is always spelled with, so how or why they suddenly fabricated “darkness” in place of “dusk” is beyond me.

Also, for Eng reading context, what gets translated as “the other me” is “もう１つの人格を” with a gikun of “ミナヅキ” in the Jap text. So whether or not that should have vocally been “the other me” or “Minazuki” is up to you to decide. ~(•_•)~ (And for anyone who wants the full Jap transcription of that text bubble: ”黄昏の羽根”ってヤツから生まれたもう１つの人格を消す手術から眠ったままだったらしい)

• I wish that translators would interpret Minazuki's use of “黙れ(damare)” as “Silence.” rather than “Shut up.” It fits his pre-established (by Ultimax-the-game) lexicon far more, in my opinion.

(Jap version of the page [here], because I forgot to take a picture of it, apparently. :P)

• Kanazuki, my beloved nickname. (Though, because pursuing lore details, I'm not sure if Udon's “the two sides of Minazuki” is an accurate translation in this case? It seems to be more like “the two Minazukis”, like how fan-Eng interpreted it, but I don't know enough Jap to tell. For those who want the transcript: ところで２人の皆月のことみんななんて呼んでる？皆月？ミナヅキ？文面ならまだしも打ち合わせの時彼らは大変混乱を招いてくれやがりましてね......)

• It's nice to have the uncropped version of the original Yu cover art... But I'm a bit sad that we don't get the original Sho/Minazuki back-cover as a poster as well.

• Interesting detail: despite reprinting and reformatting the title logos, they seem to have kept the signature color for each volume the same (Vol.1/yellow, Vol.2/red, Vol.3/pink, Vol.4/blue).

• I've already stated some of my thoughts on Ch.28 and Ch.30 here, but for a few things that I didn't cover...

1) Minazuki specifically thinking “The humans are shouting.” gives us an interesting window into his mindset at the time.

2) The doctors were shouting at him because he was climbing up into an open window more-so than just shouting at him in general, lol.

3) The Ikutsuki death report reads more as if Minazuki was narrating it rather than it just being Sho staring at information on a screen, which I think is a neat interpretation.

4) Sho might've been attempting to finish the 'Minazuki extraction procedure' that Ikutsuki began, rather than just blindly attacking Minazuki? I'm not entirely sure, but it's an interesting angle to consider nonetheless.

5) Ikutsuki spinning Minazuki as an “evil spirit” as another generally useful tidbit to employ in Sho characterizations.

6) “Murder pit”. I'm keeping this for my Minazuki characterizations going forwards, lmao.

• Generally adoring the larger page size, 'cause I can see more details in the art that also help me understand the context better in a lot of scenes. For example! After Tsukiyomi takes the full-power hit from Izanagi, I can see the clear signs of exhaustion and Minazuki pushing his limits in the continuation of the fight. His movements are more desperate, he gets pronounced bags under his eyes, he has a kind of wide-eyed look to him, etc. Which I think is a really nice detail, because it shows that Minazuki isn't invulnerable: his desperation to protect Sho is just that strong.

The dialog at the beginning of that scene also helps to demonstrate that: rather than continuing to think in fluent and complex words, his internal monologue is reduced to simple, fragmented instincts (“Can't falter... Must protect... Must...!"). Which, again, a very interesting window into how Minazuki thinks. Even when put under the physical strain of grievous injuries, his first instincts (in this situation, at least) are to hold his ground in order to protect Sho.

(...Though, the Jap text of the aforementioned dialog is a bit different than Udon's translation, lol. It's more like “If I... don't protect... I—" (俺が......守らなければ...俺が――...))

• I don't have much to say about the fight against Kagutsuchi due to not having the best focus when I read through that part of the manga. Hopefully one day I'll reread it with better success. ^^;

• Suicidal Sho? I'm not entirely sure, though, as the “思ってた” in the Japanese version of the text (死んじまうかと思ってた時...) seems like it could mean either “I believe (that this will happen)” or “I plan (on making this happen)”? I don't know what linguistic contexts lend to what definitions, unfortunately, and the visual context could support it either way. (Not to mention, I have no clue if the sentiment is being expressed in a literal or frivolous capacity, given Sho can be hyperbolic at times. >_>)

...Also, I'm not counting Sho knifing his own face as an intentionally suicidal action, because (to the best of my ability to understand) that was intended to be homicidal. It's just that it would have also had a suicidal effect on him.

• Shadow puppet-Yosuke, Shadow puppet-Narukami, and Yosuke are great, lmao.

• Translations of General Teddie's script.

• Lastly, and maybe bestly: They got!! It right!! They kept Sho's name in Minazuki's “What are you going to do to Sho, Kagutsuchi?” line!! (Context: a previous observations/musings post of mine [here].)

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

(If you wanna see the fan-Eng in higher quality than the screengrabs I used, you can find it on Mangadex [here].)

[femsinisms]

Submissions are Open!

Theme: "Deconstructing the Objectification of Women's Bodies: Exploring the Harmful Impacts of Consumption from a Radical Feminist Lens"

Women's bodies have been consumed and objectified in various forms throughout history, from the use of women's bodies in advertising to the depiction of female bodies in art. This consumption has been normalized in our society and is often seen as harmless or even empowering. However, from a radical feminist perspective, the consumption of women's bodies perpetuates harmful stereotypes and reinforces gender inequality. For our first magazine we ask for essays, articles, reviews, and creative pieces that explore the ways in which women's bodies are consumed, the harm it causes, and why it's crucial to challenge and resist this phenomenon from a radical feminist perspective.

Submissions Open 5/5/2023 (May 5th 2023) and will be accepted on a rolling basis until 9/2/2023 (September 2nd, 2023) 

Emails, Pen names, and other identifying information will not be kept on file after the review and acceptance period is over. 

Submit Here

For each artwork or illustration, please include a 25-to-50-word image description.

All images should have an image quality of at least 300 DPI

Use double quotation marks for quotations. Use single quotation marks for technical or specialized terms when first introduced, quotations within quotations, and for titles of articles, essays, chapters, poems, songs, etc.

No bibliography is needed.

DO NOT put Pen Name or other identifying information on written submissions. 

Keep Written submissions between 3-5 pages (single spaced) or under 10 pages (double spaced)

Citations in Footnotes

For web pages and articles:

First Name Last Name, ‘Title of item,’ Website Name, Full Date of Publication, URL.

For books:

First Name Last Name, Title of Item (Place of Publication: Publisher, Date), Page Number(s).

For journal articles:

First Name Last Name, ‘Title of Item,’ Journal Title, Volume.Issue Number, Date, Page Number(s).

[aley-nag]

thicc boy and a lectern bookcase!

Soooo, the next project was "Dishonor on your Cow" by mandarou (@end-o-the-line). Which is so incredibly funny that I cried laughing the first time I read it and am still in stitchen by the fourth or fifth(?) time reading it. Seriously, the dialogue is so witty, the characterization is on spot, the plot is fascinating. It's a Stucky AU with modern!Bucky and he's the best. Overall a really god fanfiction.

I started formatting it and I really underestimated what 400 pages looks like and what problems it brings with it... I did one glued and one sewn, again and because I wanted to try it, after seeing really cool posts about it I made a lectern bookcase. Again with the help of my local bookbinder, otherwise I probably would have given up in frustration (https://www.buchbinderei-stenzel.de/). All in all it took me less time then the first one: around 9 months from December 22 til August 23

The cover

The spine

And the binding. I did hand-sewn end bands and a rounded spine for the normal one. I think that was the last time I rounded the back, because I think the straight one is much prettier. The endbands could have been tidier and I should have cut them off sooner. You can still see the core.

For the lectern book case I'm going to do another post.

Because the title is a reference to Mulan I choose a font and Title picture inspired by the movie.

Another formatting mishap (Every time I think I got it down...): I wanted to replace all the straight quotation marks against curly ones and it just refused to work. First it always changed back to the straight ones and then it only did the ones at the beginning of a sentence. My solution in the end was to exchange all of them and then change the one on the end of the sentence by hand. That... took a while.

Binding Details: Text Body: Garamond, 11 Full Title: Fontmeme.com (Zenzai Itacha) Half Title/Chapter Heading: Fontmeme.com (Mulan) Word Count: 111.695 Pages: 444

The paper is still the copy paper, that I had cut from DIN A3 paper. It's really not pretty but I found a solution afterwards.

Some progress pics:

Punching the holes.

Sewing it together.

Aaaand the chonky boy! It was very unmanagable and the reason I set my limit at 500 pages. Everything above gets divided :D

[demoonlady]

Chapter 211: The Ripening

// SPOILER WARNING!!! DO NOT PROCEED IF YOU HAVE NOT READ THE CHAPTER YET.

Opening words: “The "preparation" progresses! The archipelago crosses over to the other side!!”

O.O nice cameo, waiter-kun! The official release didn't include it but this dude is actually the waiter that resigned from the restaurant where Kenjaku and co. hung out at in chapter 12. We got to see his four sisters-in-law too!

Anyway, the dialogue for the right panel should have been:

》 Ex-waiter: "Was the filter properly cleaned?" 》 Sister: "Not unless onii-chan cleaned it."

》 Maki: "The preparation being completed is one thing. But according to the guy that self-proclaimed himself as Itadori's older brother... Kenjaku has captured Tengen-sama."

The term used for pre-prep is 慣らし (narashi). Actually, if yall been following the official translation, they previously used "breaking in", followed by "custom" and then "customary prelude". Now they chose "pre-prep." 😅 Really, let's not be anymore confused; it's just "preparation" or "pre-merger."

Also, forgive my nitpicking here but it's more of "capturing" Tengen, rather than "take" her in the sense of "take her away."

》 Maki: (...) "It's a blessing in disguise that the back of the Prison Realm is still safe."

The phrase in blue was 「不幸中の幸い」 (fukōchū no saiwai) in the raws. Though very rarely used as "blessing in disguise", I think it's kinda fitting in this context..? It's an expression which means a small mercy (from some misfortune) that things didn't end up for the worse.

》 Yuuji: "This isn't something we can figure out by ourselves. Anyways, let's focus on Tsumiki nee-chan first."

Throughout the mention of Tsumiki, Yuuji addresses her as "Tsumiki no nee-chan" the whole time and, honestly, it's adorable af HUWAAA LET ME HUG HIM–

》 Yuuji: "Why haven't our senpais added the rules yet?"

This one sounds better, imo.

》 Megumi: (...) "This 'removal' is done by tampering with the brain, so it basically means 'death.'"

Just FYI, the words removal and death were in quotation marks.

》 Maki: "Ok, why the hell is that possible?"

Thanks to TCB Scans for pointing out that Maki switched to Kansai dialect here. 「なんでやねん」 (nandeyanen) is a Kansai dialect word and one of the most popular phrases. It's equivalent to "why" in standard Japanese, and is used to express surprise or denial after hearing or witnessing something.

》 Hana: "It's [because of] the Angel's cursed technique."

》 Angel: "In order to extinguish the barrier technique with my cursed technique, the root of the barrier must be extinguished. If we don't know where that is, then only Hana and I can [freely] move through the colonies."

FYI, the kanji used for "barrier" and "colonies" are essentially the same (結界) but the furigana reads differently in both speech bubbles. Plus, previously the official translations used the term "extinguish" so I'm just reusing the same word here, instead of "destroying".

Nothing wrong here. Just wanted to share that Maki's last statement in the left panel contained the lyrics from Makoto Kawamoto's song titled "1/2", which is why Takaba mentioned her name in the next panel. The song lyrics that made Takaba mention her was "[kamisama wa] nanimo kinshi nanka shitenai". In the raws, Maki said "(...) nanimo kinshi nanka shitenai nda yo". [Honestly how can some readers not love Takaba?!]

》 Yuuji: "In other words, it's the same as the random transfer. It's not a general rule of the Culling Game, but a rule of the barriers. 》 Hana: Even if we add a rule to allow free entry and exit from the colonies, chances are we might still get repelled due to the barriers' rule."

The official translations totally changed whatever they said.

》 Maki: (...) "Let's proceed with "Allow players to withdraw from the Culling Game." Yuuta and the others have already transferred the points to you, right?"

Personal gripe but really, though, we never heard them say "Yuuta's team" ever. It's more like "Yuuta and the rest/the others."

Also more importantly, Gege has made a mistake [again] here. Megumi hasn't added any rules yet, so the rules part should have been reflected as 00 instead of 01.

》 Kogane: "This is a proposal with regards to the addition of a rule to the Culling Game."

》 Megumi: "Maki-san, please bring Tsumiki here [to this barrier] for me."

I feel like the official translation made Megumi sound authoritative here, as if he was bossing Maki around. If anything he was more polite than bossy. Also, in the furigana he said 「ここ」 (koko) which means here while the kanji was 「結界」 barrier.

》 Yuuji: "Tsumiki nee-chan is already a player but she's not inside a colony, right? Then wouldn't it be safer to remotely transfer the points to her and have her withdraw [from the Culling Game]?"

Official translation missed out on the "have her withdraw" part.

》 Megumi: "Players that hold points for too long also has the risk of being targeted by other players. The safest thing to do is to rendezvous with Tsumiki first." 》 Maki: "Right. But I can't enter the colony with her. (...), so Tsumiki and I will be separated during the transfer."

》 Tsumiki: "Ijichi-san, are you really going to enter the colony in my place..? I should do it myself.." 》 Ijichi: "No. It's not a good idea to reduce the number of sorcerers outside the colonies."

Okay, Tsumiki wouldn't be addressing Ijichi just by his name without honorifics (yes, even in English). In the raws, she certainly said Ijichi-san, so at least in the English version, "Mr. Ijichi" would have been decent. And as for Ijichi's reply, the official missed out a few stuff.

》 Maki: "This feels like.. a plea bargain with an inmate on death row..." 》 Ijichi: "Haha! I'd love to play along to that, but there isn't enough time."

》 Gojo: (...) "You're more useless than shit. Hurry and get your driver's license now. The manual one. If you refuse, I'll slap the shit out of you." (...) 》 Ijichi: "If Gojo-san hadn't said any of that, I would have ended up becoming a half-assed sorcerer and died right away."

》 Yuuji: "Huh, is that her!? A spot-on transfer?!"

The term Yuuji used was 「ドンピシャ転送」 (don pisha tensho) which literally means perfect transfer. "Don pisha" means "spot on", "right on", or "perfect match."

We all know how players will be randomly transferred once they pass through the barrier, however Tsumiki was teleported directly to where Gumi and friends are, which is ever so convenient and highly suspicious!

》 Yuuji: "Tsumiki nee-chan has some great luck!" 》 Tsumiki: "Pleased to meet you! Thank you for taking care of Megumi." 》 Yuuji: "I'm Itadori. No, I'm the one being taken care of."

Yuuji said 「こちらこそ」 (kochira koso), which is a humble expression used as a response when the speaker wants to repeat what somebody says to them, but in the opposite direction, or the other way around. Like, "No, I'm the one that should really be saying that." This expression is normally emphatic so it can vary by context.

In this case, since Tsumiki thanked Yuuji for taking care of Megumi, Yuuji then humbly replied that he's being taken care of [by Megumi].

》 Hana: "Great! I didn't have to do a thing. (...) Nice, Itadori! Make me sound good." 》 Megumi: "Let's finish this quickly. Kogane."

》 Yuuji: "Notice how he acts cool in front of his family. Must be the rebellious phase!"

Closing words: “A sudden rule addition.. Her true identity is..!?”

[harpsthings]

rhapsody ch.2

[Full fic on ao3 here! Chapter one on tumblr here!]

Contrary to popular belief, Eddie knew when to shut up. It wasn’t hard to sense when someone wanted him to stop talking, their emotions quite literally broadcasting how much they wanted him to go away. Sometimes it took him a few interactions to piece together what each of their emotional signatures meant, but irritation was always one of the easiest to pinpoint.

It had cowed Eddie when he was younger, being able to physically feel how much someone disliked him. He was too talkative, too loud, too different for most people in Hawkins, Indiana to be able to tolerate. At first he had tried to conform and act like the other teens, but he kept slipping up. He would melt down in a room of overwhelming emotions or read a stranger so well he creeped them out. It had quickly earned him the “Freak” title despite everything he tried.

In the end, Eddie had embraced it. He wore his personality like armor and became the freak everyone told him he already was. He climbed on cafeteria tables, shouting louder than all the auras around him, and bit back when bullies bared their teeth. His hair grew long, tattoos appeared all over his skin, and he stopped hiding.

So, yes, Eddie knew when to shut up, but usually he didn’t want to.

Except currently he was driving his van to the Harrington house with Steve Harrington riding shotgun and he, quite frankly, didn’t know what to say. The broken piano of Steve’s aura was growing louder every minute they inched closer to their destination. Steve himself was staring out the window, hands clenching and unclenching rhythmically. If Eddie had to guess, he would say that home was the last place Steve wanted to be.

But what could Eddie do about it? He sighed, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of Cirith Ungol’s “Toccata in D Minor” that was playing on low in the background. Eddie could out-talk the best of them, but sometimes he had a hard time figuring out anything of substance to say. But—

But maybe that was what Steve needed right now. Nothing of substance. A distraction.

“Gareth doesn’t think Cirith Ungol is ‘edgy enough’, but I think Gareth is a ‘fucking idiot’,” Eddie caught on to the first conversation thread he could think of, taking his right hand off the wheel to emphasize the quotation marks. “They’re fucking legends and this album is the best shit they’ve made so far. It’s, like, completely their own, not following any trends, which is what metal should be.”

“Uh,” Steve said, his head turned to Eddie and mournful music interrupted by a strum of confusion. “Who?”

“These guys, Steve, keep up!” Eddie gestured towards the radio. “They named themselves  after a mountain pass Frodo and Samwise were lead through by Gollum in Lord of the Rings. I mean, the band pronounces it Cirith Ungol and it’s supposed to be pronounced Kirith, but I’ll forgive them. Cause you can totally see the influence Tolkien had on them in this album, and for that alone they deserve respect, am I right? I’m so right, fuck off Gareth.”

“Lord of the Rings?”

Luckily, they were at a stop light so Eddie could bodily turn to Steve. “Do you not know Lord of the Rings? Please tell me you know Lord of the Rings and your taste isn’t completely hopeless.”

“I know what it is,” Steve said defensively, shoulders and music raising. “It’s a book, right? Fantasy or something? The light’s green.”

Eddie sighed loudly, turning back around and putting his foot on the gas. “It’s a book series, Steve, a series, and a classic one at that. But I guess I should give you credit for even knowing that much about it. I bet Hagan probably thinks it’s some guy in Ireland with an extensive jewelry collection.”

Oh, shit, Eddie thought. That’s his friend. You just made fun of-

Steve snorted, mirthful chimes playing around him. “Yeah, probably. Tommy hated anything that might make people think he was into ‘nerdy shit’.”

Hated. Past tense.

Rumors came swirling back into Eddie’s mind. Harrington and Hagan fought. Harrington and Hagan aren’t talking anymore, what’s going on with that? Harrington drives off during lunch now, wonder where he goes. The murmurs had quickly died off once something more interesting had happened, and at the time Eddie had thought that meant they probably made up. Because the popular kids stayed together, right?

Even though he hadn’t seen them together since then. Even though Steve’s aura had become quiet and strange whenever Eddie passed him in the halls.

Fuck, Eddie was an idiot.

“Hated?” He murmured, “Past tense?”

“Yeah, uh—” Steve cleared his throat and that muted violin was back, but each stroke of the bow was harsher, more violent. “We had a falling out. Haven’t really talked since then.”

“That sucks, man. I’m sorry,” Eddie said, surprised how genuine the sentiment actually was. Despite how much of an asshole Hagan was, it was still awful being alone. Though, maybe being surrounded by people who you don’t really like and who don’t really like you was worse.

Steve shrugged but turned his body towards Eddie, leaning against the van window. “It’s better like this. He’s a douche and I’m… trying to stop being one.”

Eddie nodded. “I can get behind some self improvement, man.”

“Yeah… Don’t know how well I’m doing, though,” Steve gnawed on his thumb and Eddie fought the urge to pull it away from his mouth. “Considering no one has really noticed.”

Eddie flapped his hand dismissively. “The population of Hawkins wouldn’t notice the apocalypse if it happened in their backyard, don’t let it get to you.”

“They really wouldn’t,” Steve huffed. The broken piano rose and fell like a wave, mixing with the chimes of humor. Huh. Wasn’t that foreboding as hell. The sounds were quickly muffled by the soothing orchestra Steve used when he was hiding an emotion. “So…  You were talking about Ciril Ungoth or something?”

Eddie took note of that swift topic change but let it slide. Even an empath could get behind people needing their privacy. He decided to let the excitement of being asked about one of his interests overtake him, bouncing in his seat, and began to talk.

As they drove through the dark Hawkins streets, Eddie was ecstatic to learn that Steve was actually a great listener, asking insightful questions and making little comments. It was nice to have, for a few minutes, the attention of Steve Harrington rather than the faux derision of King Steve. He doubted they would ever talk like this again, the world just didn’t work that way, but he was going to allow himself to relish in the moment.

The Harrington house came up before they knew it and Eddie watched as Steve tensed up like a wounded animal facing a predator, broken piano clanking loudly as a horror score began to play. Eddie blinked rapidly, the aura hitting him full force. It was almost too overwhelming to be able to think, but that didn’t stop him from realizing that Steve was terrified of his house.

Harrington’s parents are always out of town, so he can have parties whenever he wants! Isn’t that awesome? Isn’t that the best thing? I wish I was him.

So, was he scared of being alone in that big, empty house. Or worse… Were his parents home and he was scared of them? Eddie didn’t want to think about it, shouldn’t think about it, but he couldn’t stop the questions rushing through him as the music swelled.

What ever happened to people’s emotions not being his business? Why didn’t that apply to Steve Harrington?

Steve was gripping the door, but he hadn’t moved to open it. He was staring into the distance.

“You alright?” Eddie managed to ask, murmuring under the noise only he could hear.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” Steve nodded jerkily. “It’s just—”

Steve’s mouth opened and closed, eyes flickering to Eddie, like he was trying to decide if the other teen was trustworthy or not.

“It’s just?” Eddie led encouragingly.

“I… don’t really want to be alone right now,” Steve lowered his head and looked away, a short diminuendo of shame twisting through the air.

“Okay,” Eddie said.

Don’t get involved.

“Okay,” he repeated.

Don’t get involved, not any more than you already have.

“My uncle works nights.”

Steve’s head jolted up towards him. “What?”

Do. Not. Get. Involved.

“Yeah, he works nights, which means the trailer’s all mine, so…”

Steve tilted his head. “So…?”

“You could come hang with me for the night… If you wanted.”

Goddamnit, Eddie Munson.

He could have slammed his face against the wheel. Why did he say that? His whole rule for himself was not to get involved with people, and he already broken that by even driving Steve home. He should just kick him to the curb. Besides, it wasn’t like Steve Harrington was ever going to say yes to spending more time with Eddie Munson.

“Okay.”

“What?” Eddie blinked up at Steve, who had taken his hand off the handle.

“Okay, I wanna hang,” Steve said, before he paused, stressed strings rising. “I mean— That is— If you meant it cause if you were just trying to be nice that’s okay I’ll just—”

“No!” Eddie interjected, louder than expected, shocking them both. He tried again, quieter this time. “No, I totally meant it, dude. We can go to my place if you want.”

“I want.”

“Okay, cool.” Eddie nodded. “Cool, cool, cool.”

“Cool.”

“Put your seatbelt on and we can go, then.”

“You’re not wearing a seatbelt,” Steve helpfully pointed out.

“It’s my van, I do what I want,” Eddie snarked. “And besides, if the cops pull me over and find a drunk Harrington in my van with no seatbelt they’ll throw me in the slammer, no questions asked.”

“Hopper wouldn’t do that.” It sounded like Steve was pouting, and when Eddie looked over… Yep, he was. What?

“Hopper totally would. That guys has it out to get me. But, how do you— You know what? Never mind. You’re putting your seatbelt on or I will.” Eddie leaned over Steve and grabbed the seatbelt, intent on buckling him in.

He had not anticipated that putting him nose to nose with Steve.

“Hi,” Steve said, harps thrumming.

“Hi,” Eddie replied, before forcing himself back and tugging the seatbelt over him, ignoring the weird flutter in his stomach.

Clicking the belt into the lock, Eddie sat back in his seat and cleared his throat. “Alright, let’s get this show on the road.”

“You sound like a sitcom dad,” Steve snorted as they pulled away from the Harrington house. As soon as they were in motion his aura calmed, trauma signature beginning to die down.

Eddie scoffed, secretly reveling in the lush string quartet that Steve was radiating. “Sitcom dad? Sitcom dad? I’ll have you know, Steven Michael Harrington—”

“That’s not my name.”

“Okay, Stephano Chrysanthemum Harr—”

“That’s not even close!”

“I will have you know, Steve, if that is your real name—” Eddie was grinning with delight at Steve’s laughter. He raised a finger high in the air. “That…!”

“That what?” Steve asked between chuckles.

“That I… may have forgotten what I was going to say.”

“Oh my god, Eddie.”

The rest of the ride to Eddie’s trailer went similarly, with Eddie making Steve laugh and secretly listening as his aura evened out and softened. It made something in Eddie’s chest curl up and purr at the thought that he was calming someone down rather than freaking them out, especially since that someone was Steve Harrington.

The nerves only began to creep up when they were pulling up to the trailer park. Talking with Steve almost made him forget that they were living in completely opposite worlds. Bringing him here, to Eddie’s world, had that reminder coming back with full force.

Steve is different, said the voice in Eddie’s head that liked to hate him. Steve isn’t like you. Steve is richer cooler kinder better and he’s going to remember that and leave you. Maybe even get a punch in before he goes.

Shut up, thought the rest of Eddie as he parked in front of his trailer. Shut up, shut up, Steve isn’t like that.

How do you know what Steve is like? You don’t know anything about him, not really.

Ignoring the temptation to slap himself, Eddie gestured to the trailer. “Here we are, la casa de Munson… or however you say it.”

“Don’t ask me,” Steve shrugged, unbuckling his seatbelt. “I’m failing Spanish.”

“God, same,” Eddie chuckled, reaching into the back and grabbing his lunch box. “I hate that fucking class.”

They both slid out of the van and Eddie led the way into the trailer. His nerves peaked as he opened the door and ushered Steve in, but the only thing Steve’s aura gave away was the thrumming of that familiar harp. Whatever that meant.

“You’ve got a lot of mugs, Munson,” Steve chirped as he wandered inside, looking around.

“Yeah,” Eddie chuckled fondly, shutting the door behind him. “Wayne likes them and they’re easy gifts so—”

He gestured at their Mug Wall. “Mugs!”

Steve laughed but a melancholy flute whistled through his aura. Thinking back to Steve’s empty house, Eddie could understand why.

“So,” Eddie clapped his hands together. “I was thinking I could make us grilled cheeses. You could use some sobering up and I’m starved. So, my solution: food!”

“You’re a real genius, Eddie,” Steve rolled his eyes, though a smile was playing at his lips. “I’m pretty much sober already, but yeah, I could eat.”

That’s how Eddie ended up in his tiny kitchenette, cooking up some grilled cheese and a can of tomato soup while he and Steve debated over whether a ham and grilled cheese should legally be food.

“I’m just saying,” Steve argued. “That ham and cheese sandwiches are meant to be cold, man!”

“That is such small minded thinking, Steve. I expected better from you!”

“Just because it’s edible doesn’t mean it’s right. I mean, you could technically eat grass—”

“Actually you shouldn’t, the silica in it’ll ruin your teeth—”

They were both quiet once the grilled cheeses were finally done (ham and cheese for Eddie, cheese with the singular tomato in the fridge for Steve), eating in companionable silence. It was nice, Eddie decided.

He had never really had anyone to simply exist with besides Wayne. Even with his friends he had to put on the act of Eddie “The Freak” Munson, but right now he felt like he could just… be Eddie.

Don’t get used to it, said the voice that hated him.

Shut the fuck up, Eddie replied, mentally giving the voice two middle fingers.

Once they were done, Steve thanked him for the meal and Eddie tossed the dishes into the sink. He grabbed two mugs of water (Garfield for Eddie and #1 Fisherman for Steve) and lead Steve into his room.

He was just setting the mugs down onto his desk when Steve said, “Oh, wow, is that a violin?”

Water sloshed out of Garfield as it clunked onto the desk, Eddie turning around in a rush.

Yep, there it was. In her case on the plush chair in the corner was Eddie’s biggest secret— his violin, Alfonsina. She was older than all his memories and more hidden than his porno mags. The only living person who knew about her was Wayne, and even then Eddie only played when he was alone.

Also, he was pretty sure that Alfonsina was worth more than the trailer. After his accident, Mel had told him that Alfonsina was a family heirloom that he had received from his grandmother, but her emotions had been so strange while she said it that he didn’t believe her. Even Wayne was squirrelly about Alfonsina, never really wanting to talk about her. Eddie didn’t push it, but that didn’t stop every cell in his body from wanting to know.

Eddie stepped in front of Alfonsina, blocking her from view. “Whaaaat? What are you talking about? There’s nothing there.”

Steve stepped around him. “It’s a violin. Right there. You have a violin.”

“Uh. Um,” Eddie moved between Alfonsina and Steve, waving a hand in front of Steve’s face. “This is not the violin you’re looking for, Steve Harrington.”

Steve huffed. “Can I please see the violin, Eddie?”

“What violin? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Bringing his clasped hands in front of his chin, Steve continued to beg. “Please? Please, please, please?”

Eddie, emotionally broken down from Steve’s attempted puppy dog eyes, sighed. “Why do you want to see it so bad?”

“Well, at first I just thought it was cool, but then you got all cagey about it so now I really wanna see,” Steve shrugged. “What, do you think having a violin will ruin your ‘metal’ reputation or something?”

“Violins are totally metal, jerkwad,” Eddie said, putting his hands on his hips. “Everything I do is metal. It’s just…”

“It’s just what?” Steve cocked his head.

“I dunno, man, personal?” Eddie crossed his arms over his chest, looking away. “It’s the last real memory I have of Mel.”

“Mel?”

“…My mom,” Eddie admitted. Steve was looking at him strangely and his music mellowed. “I only really knew her for, like, six months before she died, so…”

“Oh,” Steve murmured. “She died when you were six months old?”

Eddie rubbed the back of his head. “Nah, when I was fifteen. It’s a long story, but basically I got into an accident when I was fourteen and lost all of my memories. I know it sounds like some kind of cheesy novel, but I swear it’s true. I even have the scars to prove it.”

“No, no,” Steve shook his head. A solemn melody was playing. “I believe you it’s just… God, that really sucks man.”

“Yeah…”

“I’m— I’m really sorry I brought it up,” Steve shuffled his feet. “You don’t have to show me or anything, I’m sorry for imposing.”

Eddie looked at Steve and then back at Alfonsina.

He hadn’t played her in front of anyone in months. The last time was on the anniversary of Mel’s death. Every year he and Wayne would go to her grave and Eddie would play until either tears or blood spilled.

But then he remembered how ecstatic Mel was every time he had played for her in those short few months, singing along and dancing around him. He thought about how, one night when she was really sick, she had pleaded with him to find someone to share his music with. Eddie had cried when she had asked, telling her she was the only one he wanted to share with.

He had kept that one-sided promise, but…

She would be sad, wouldn’t she? If she knew Eddie never played for another soul?

Eddie was sure of the answer.

“Actually, I could play for you,” Eddie said, turning back to Steve. “If you want.”

“That— I mean, I’m not pressuring you, am I?” Steve was rubbing an arm with his hand, a nervous flute jumping. “Cause we can, like, totally forget about it.”

“No, man,” Eddie grinned reassuringly. “I haven’t played her in front of anyone in ages and I think it’s time to change that.”

Harps again.

Steve blinked rapidly before a matching smile spread across his face. “Okay, then. I’d love to listen as long as you wanna play. I haven’t heard someone play a violin in ages”

“Well, prepare to have your mind blown,” Eddie said with confidence he didn’t really have. “Now go sit.”

Steve obeyed, plopping down on the edge of Eddie’s bed and looking up at him with wide eyes. His attention was so rapt Eddie felt it like a physical presence. Even Steve’s aura was quiet, as if waiting for Eddie to join in.

Eddie blew out a breath, turning to get Alfonsina from her case. He took the moment to steal his nerves and convince himself not to run straight out of the trailer and into the woods.

He’s going to hate it, the Voice taunted. He’s going to hate you.

Bleh, bleh, bleh, Eddie retorted. Shut the fuck up, man.

Once he held Alfonsina and her bow in his grip, Eddie let out a fond sigh. It always felt right whenever he held her. And when they played together it was like magic was happening.

Drawing strength from Alfonsina, Eddie turned back around and presented her to Steve. “Say hello to Alfonsina, Steve!”

“Hello, Alfonsina,” Steve said with a wry grin. “I thought you hated Spanish, man. Isn’t that a Spanish name?”

Eddie chuckled, bringing Alfonsina up and getting into position. “I named her after Mel’s favorite song, “Alfonsina y el Mar”. It’s not my fault she was into Argentinian music and, like, super morbid stories.”

“Morbid stories?”

“Yeah, the song is about how the Argentinian poet Alfonsina Storni walked into the sea and drowned.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Eddie shook his head, “But that’s music for another time. Right now, me and Alfie are gonna play you some Tartini.”

Eddie brought the bow up to Alfonsina’s strings but the feeling of Steve’s eyes on him made him pause. “Can you look away? Alfie gets stage fright.”

“Yeah, sure, Alfie does,” Steve rolled his eyes but fell back onto the bed, freeing Eddie from his gaze.

Eddie closed his eyes and took a deep breath in. He thought of playing Alfonsina for Mel, how she would tell him little facts about every song he played. He breathed out, bringing the bow to Alfie’s strings.

With the quiet hum of Steve’s aura accompanying him, Eddie began to play.

It was as easy as breathing for Eddie to fall into the music, concerns about Steve and Mel fading away as his bow danced through the notes of the “Devil’s Trill Sonata”. It was a technically difficult piece, but each movement came naturally for Eddie after years of practice.

He and Alfonsina had spent long hours on Tartini’s work, toiling through the night to make the piece their own. Each time Eddie was ready to give up on it, he had remembered that the Devil had composed an even more beautiful work than even Tartini could capture.

So, if it wasn’t as hard as what the Devil had created, it couldn’t be hard at all, could it?

That’s what made Eddie keep going, even when the pain in his fingers was almost too much to bear. He wasn’t going to let any piece, whether it be for violin or guitar, win. Not without trying his damnedest.

Music was one of the only things Eddie felt like he could truly control. In a life run by other people’s emotions, this was something that was all his own. When it was just Eddie and his instruments, it felt like anything could be possible. Even the most technically difficult song could be wielded to work in his favor with enough effort.

He could create something beautiful, something no one could ever take away.

Before he even realized it, Eddie was coming up to the final bars of the sonata. He held on to the last few notes, letting them ring out into the night, before finally letting go.

He didn’t know when his eyes had fallen shut, but for several moments after his bow left Alfonsina, Eddie kept them closed. He simply breathed. In and out. Letting the silence take over once more.

Only there wasn’t silence. A quiet replica of the sonata was playing, underlaid with a fluttering harp that somehow matched the piece perfectly.

Steve’s aura had latched onto Eddie’s playing and was continuing to fill the trailer with sound. It was beautiful, gorgeous in a way that very nearly brought Eddie to tears. He knew Steve’s music was something else, but he had never heard it sound like this.

Eddie opened his eyes.

[prurientpuddlejumper]

Being Fake Soulmates with Dr. Chilton (Part 6)

<- Part 5

Frederick Chilton x Reader | The Good Place crossover

Final chapter! Warning: The Good Place spoilers, and a timeline that makes perfect sense because Jeremy Bearimy, baby. 

2,800 words

“No way. It’s too dangerous!”

“I thought you said we were in this together?” Chilton quirked a brow, eliciting a petulant grumble. You crossed your arms.

“Or maybe you think I’m expendable, so you’re willing to take risks with my life. Afterlife. Whatever.”

Frederick Chilton, who was not, as originally advertised, your soulmate, nonetheless clasped your hand with gentle tenderness. I would never do anything to hurt you is what a normal person would say in that moment, and perhaps his eyes said it, somewhere deep in their searching pools of green. But Dr. Chilton had a repressed way about him, tending toward overly clinical just stating the facts (or the sarcasm). Anything but genuine, vulnerable, sentimentality.

He guided you by your hand to sit down beside him on the baroque loveseat in one of his many living rooms, studies, and salons. After you settled yourself on the velvet cushion, he leaned his shoulder against yours in that quiet way he showed affection.

“After reviewing the town records,” he said, “I believe we may be the only two humans in the neighborhood. Some of the residents are far too dull—Chidi Anagonye, the moral philosophy professor who spent his life writing a single manuscript, Jianyu the silent monk—while others are too perfect—Glen, that one who is constantly volunteering, Tahani, the philanthropist. Real people have flaws, secrets, hobbies. I can only be certain of myself and you.”

“How’d you figure out I’m real?”

“I didn’t. I simply refuse to accept the alternative,” he said with a sad smile, and you began to think Dr. Chilton was sentimental after all.

***

Their voices were muffled even with your ear pressed to the door of Michael’s office—not that it mattered much what they were talking about. You were just waiting for the signal, and at that moment, it came. Their footsteps and voices grew louder as Frederick and Michael approached, and the door handle clicked.

“—which is why cannibalism loses more good-person points than defenestration but fewer than chewing loudly on a crowded bus.”

“Fascinating. I never thought about it that way,” said Chilton, looking genuinely disturbed.

You flattened yourself against the wall next to the door, thinking thin thoughts as the pair exited the office. A tall houseplant barely disguised your presence, and if Michael had any kind of peripheral vision, he would see you standing there plain as day.

But Dr. Chilton spoke animatedly, fixing him with a challenging laser-stare as he asked a probing follow-up question. Locked in Chilton’s eyes, Michael failed to notice the movement just behind his left shoulder as you slipped through the closing door before it could latch shut.

Safe.

Michael’s office was quiet and filled you with serenity in much the same way a teddy bear is filled with stuffing: forcefully and by no will of your own. Like the welcome room with its happy green plants and happy green words on the wall assuring you everything is fine, the office peeled your defenses away. Cream-colored walls yawned out around the perimeter, punctuated with bright windows, a portrait of Doug Forcett (a stoner from the 1970s who guessed, on a mushroom trip, how the afterlife really worked), and various artifacts of humanity enshrined like museum pieces, despite seeming perfectly mundane.

At the top of the room was a large mahogany desk.

Yesterday, Chilton watched Michael put away files in the desk that he wouldn’t let him look at. Chilton was certain they were the key to unraveling the mystery, so he suggested working together—he would distract Michael while you sneaked in to find the files. It was risky, but it might have been your only chance of discovering what was going on, and if there was a way to escape.

You began poking through the desk and found stacks of papers in an unreadable alphabet. The only thing you could read were lyrics to a genuinely terrible song Michael was writing titled “Love Train to the Cosmos.”

The last drawer wouldn’t budge.

Yanking the handle didn’t work. Banging on the side with your fist failed to unstick it. It was locked. Locked drawers were suspicious. The answers had to be in there.

You eyed a mountain of paperclips lovingly displayed on a pedestal labeled “Human Things.” Snatching two off the top, you unbent and re-bent the stiff metal wire, and inserted it into the lock. Faint clicks sounded as you turned and finessed the paperclip, feeling each pin in the tumbler slide into place. Then you gently turned it, and—pop. The drawer opened.

A single manila folder stamped TOP SECRET in threatening red letters rested inside, as if waiting to be found. You picked it up and opened it, and your breath caught. They were reports on “The Good Place.” The Good Place in quotation marks. Reports about you.

A pleasant bing sounded.

Janet materialized in front of the desk. For once, she was not wearing a cheery smile.

***

Frederick Chilton had always been a selfish man. Any opportunity that could advance his career and put him in the spotlight, he would take it no matter who it hurt. “Unorthodox therapy,” he called it in his private chats with Dr. Lecter. They bonded over their shared interest in unorthodox research before he learned Dr. Lecter was a cannibal. That would have been a clue to anybody else that it was time to change his ways, but Dr. Chilton spent the rest of his years just as selfish and petty—more so, even, as his disfiguring injuries gave him more reason for spite.

He could never accept himself as he was.

By the time he died, Chilton was an intolerable asshole who paid back the world’s cruelty with his chronic foul moods and acerbic sarcasm. He kept everyone at a distance.

And yet, here, in death, he found himself worrying over someone else.

The sun was shining in the ever-blue sky, dappled by lush green foliage before reaching the two men as they strolled the neighborhood below. Michael was built like a sapling with longer legs than he knew what to do with, making Chilton nearly jog to keep pace. He had a warm smile and an outgoing demeanor—always flattering Chilton’s ego and asking for his guidance. But something malignant hid behind those smiling eyes, and Chilton’s mind kept rushing back to you, hoping you were OK.

He hoped that you were safe. Not that the plan was going smoothly. That you were safe.

There was a difference, and Dr. Chilton noticed right away that his twitchy nervousness was not wrought of self-preservation. It was a new type of panic—worse than fear for himself, which he never thought possible considering the amount of terror he had experienced on his own behalf.

To distract himself, Chilton threw himself into the role of Michael’s assistant, focusing on his task of supposedly identifying psychological issues causing problems with the neighborhood.

“Our interviews should go in alphabetical order, under the pretense of a survey—a sort of afterlife census—to avoid suspicion. It should be feasible, with only three hundred residents—”

“We know,” Michael said coolly. His voice dropped from the usual friendly, flattering demeanor, slipping off like a mask.

“You know how you are going to handle the interviews? It is imperative the subjects do not suspect they are being studied.” Chilton swallowed, knowing full well that he was talking to the real Michael for the first time.

“Don’t play dumb.” Michael smiled an entirely different type of smile, twisted and clever with no warmth in it. “We’ve been watching you, Dr. Chilton. We knew you would figure it out eventually. It was only a matter of time before you saw through a psychiatric study.”

Chilton’s interest piqued at the same time his blood went cold. He wet his lips. “Is that what all this is, then?”

The pair came to a stone bridge that arched gracefully over a reflection pool. Michael stopped midway across, leaned one of his long, pointed elbows on the railing, and cocked his head at Chilton.

“You haven’t figured it all out yet? That’s disappointing. You humans really are so dense.” His tone was so mean that Chilton took an unconscious step back. Michael only laughed and told him there was no point in running away. “But I think you’ll want to hear what I have to offer,” he promised.

Most of what you had been told about the afterlife was true, Michael explained. There was a real good place, and there was a real bad place where bad people were tortured for all eternity. But the bad place had a problem: it was boring! Humans get used to physical pain after the first few centuries, no matter how creative the punishment.

“Once you’ve flattened a thousand penises, you’ve flattened them all. I’m trying to do something new here. Innovate!” said Michael with an energetic swoop of his hand. “Emotional torture can cause the same level of discomfort, but in a more sustainable and (more importantly) entertaining way. That’s what this neighborhood is for—to study you humans and find out what makes you miserable.”

And then he offered Dr. Chilton something that grabbed his attention. The opportunity to design bad place neighborhoods.

“You are asking me to help implement psychological torture?” Chilton turned over each word cautiously.

“Oh,” Michael scoffed, “Don’t tell me you’re concerned about the ethics? Doctor, I’ve read your file.”

Chilton winced. He had done truly amoral things in the name of discovery—things it made him sick to be reminded of. Strange, though. In the past, he would have been proud to be treated as a peer by a psychopath. Not ashamed.

“Think of it, the glory, the prestige. You would be designing the afterlife for billions of souls. You will be remembered throughout eternity as the man who reformed the bad place!”

“And my soulmate?”

Chilton blurted it without thinking. It sounded so childish and naive, and sure enough, Michael shook his head and had a long chuckle at his expense.

“There’s no such thing! I thought you knew,” Michael slapped his knee. “I made it up so you would torture each other! But once again, I underestimated the human libido. You people all think with your genitals, it’s—it’s gross. Humans are gross.” He made a face. “That’s why I need your help to design a better system. With your understanding of the human mind, we can make condemned souls miserable for thousands of years.”

Chilton couldn’t muster any enthusiasm for this plan, and Michael frowned.

“If it makes you feel any better, consider this the humane option. The alternative is going back to scooping eyeballs out with melon ballers and replacing them with live bees. What do you say, doctor? Join my team.” Michael extended a hand, and Chilton eyeballed it.

“Can my soulmate—”

“Not a soulmate.”

“—come with me?”

“This offer is only open to you.”

“So they will be tortured? Alone? For eternity? In a system I help design?”

“Nothing you can do will change that. They are going to be tortured—the only person you can save is yourself, if you decide to help me.”

Frederick’s brow knit together. He thought about refusing. He really did. Abandoning you seemed unthinkable, especially after your promise to each other to stick together. But he was a selfish creature, and choosing to be punished wouldn’t protect you. If he was lucky, by teaming up with Michael, he could design a more comfortable torture for you one day.

“Maybe this will help make up your mind,” Michael said. “Hannibal Lecter.”

“Lecter?”

“He’s here. In the bad place. So far, he has been especially resistant to traditional torture. I thought you might have a personal interest in taking a crack at him?”

***

On a floating, room-sized projection screen, Frederick Chilton shook Michael’s hand. Your head fell forward, shoulders slumping. The screen flicked off and dissipated into the office air.

“This is the 764th time he has failed,” said Janet, giving a sympathetic simulation of a sigh. “We were sure he was going to make the right decision this time.”

You shook your head. “Fame and glory? Revenge? He’ll never refuse those. Trust me—he died because of them and still never learned his lesson.”

“That is what we’re afraid of. Some people never pass their tests. Fun fact!” she perked up, “Hannibal Lecter’s test is working at a Burger King where he can only cook Impossible Whoppers, and his 19-year-old manager calls him pee-paw. He gets reset every time he eats a customer. His longest record is twelve hours.”

When Janet found you snooping in Michael’s desk, you expected to be dragged away, never to see Frederick again. Instead, she explained everything to you—the truth.

A long time ago, the bad place was exactly how Michael described it—a place where souls were sent to have their orifices filled with spiders for eternity. Then he decided to try something new. Originally, he paired you with Dr. Chilton hoping you would drive each other crazy. But no matter what happened, you kept falling in love. You kept supporting each other, and taking care of each other. The same happened with his other human test subjects—they kept improving and becoming better people than they were on Earth. Eventually, Michael changed, too.

He redesigned the bad place to be a test—a chance for human souls to earn their way into the good place. At the end of each test, you either pass and go to the good place, or your memories are erased and you start over again.

“So, what happens to me now?”

“You passed. You can go to the good place now, and spend the rest of eternity in paradise. The real one.”

“And Frederick? He’ll be alone?”

Janet nodded.

“Put me back in. Reset me, and make me his soulmate again.”

“Are you sure?” Janet asked.

“I’m not going without him.”

“He would leave you behind. You just saw that.”

“That wasn’t fair. Anyone would accept that deal. I would accept that deal!”

“No. You wouldn’t,” Janet said. “You passed your test a long time ago.”

For a while, a heavy silence fell between you as you processed this. Finally, you thought of the only question worth asking. “How many times have we had this conversation?”

“762.”

“Well then,” you said. “You know what I’m going to say.”

“I do. But you retain a vague sense of your memories from previous tests. At a subconscious level, you might realize you’re tired of this.”

You smiled. A big, genuine one that balled your cheeks and creased the corners of your eyes. “That’s not how I feel at all. I think I love him more every time.”

Janet nodded, but gave one last warning before erasing your memories again. “If he never passes, you could be stuck here forever.”

“Stuck falling in love with that insecure jerk over and over again for thousands of years? Sounds like heaven to me.”

“I thought you might say that.”

***

The first day, you really wanted to punch his pretentious snobby face for thinking he was so much better than you.

The first time you laid eyes on Dr. Frederick Chilton, he was waiting behind a mahogany desk with an ancient hardcover book in his hands. Not reading it—waiting, posed deliberately to be discovered that way, and give the impression of intellectualism.

“This is your soulmate,” said Michael, introducing you.

Chilton took a step back after shaking your hand and looked you up and down critically, as if he were appraising livestock. And right away, you knew there had been a terrible mistake. Who the fork did he think he—

Fork. Fork! Why couldn’t you say fork?!

***

Bright light streamed in through the open bedroom window. The weather was always perfect here, except when some glitch made it rain caviar and jelly beans. Or that time Frederick had a vivid nightmare, and organs began falling from the sky. Every day, something horrible seemed to go wrong in the good place. Things that challenged you and pushed your soulmate to his limits.

But most mornings were like this. Quiet. A time just for the two of you.

Your fingers lightly stroked his chest, delving into the soft hairs that rose and fell with his steady breathing. You pressed a soft kiss to his skin, then another, tracing a line of them lower, over a jagged, raised line down his abdomen. His scars let you know he was waking up. This was the good place—he didn’t have to let them show. Usually, he chose to appear as a younger version of himself, before all the indelible trauma. But on peaceful mornings like this, he would let them show just so you could soothe them. He never thought he would be that comfortable with anyone. That he could trust anyone so much.

Every day, you both knew you could overcome anything, so long as you were together.

[cappymightwrite]

ASOIAF & Norse Mythology

PART 2: The ‘Long Night’ and the Fimbulvetr

In PART 1 of this meta, from looking at just a few fan question answers, it seems rather clear to me that GRRM has more than just a passing interest in Norse mythology. One of the most fascinating and haunting myths in the Norse canon is the lead up to and resulting fallout of Ragnarök. In the show, the ‘Long Night’ appears to be just that, one night, and not even an awfully long one. In the books, however, it seems likely this will play out very differently. As a Norse nerd, the similarities to Ragnarök are just too obvious not to sit up and take notice, in particular, the similarities between the ‘Long Night’ and what is called the Fimbelvetr — which in my Old Icelandic dictionary translates to ‘the great and awful winter.’

Before I really get things rolling, lets take a moment to go over which Old Norse-Icelandic sources are traditionally used by medievalists to reconstruct the pagan conception of Ragnarök:

The Eddic poems Völuspá ‘The prophecy of the seeress’ (st. 40–51) and Vafþrúðnismál ‘The lay of Vafþrúðnir’ (st. 44–53) — these two poems provide us with quite a lot of information, with some sections being more comprehensive than others. Additionally, other Eddic poems, such as Lokasenna, Hyndluljóð, Grímnismál, and a few others hint at motifs, stemming from the ideas of Ragnarök.

In the Gylfaginning section of the Prose Edda (ch. 51–53), Snorri quotes many of the relevant stanzas from Völuspá in support of his own writing, though he also adds information that is unknown to us from other sources.

There are also a few skaldic* poems which give us minor hints regarding the incidents that will take places during Ragnarök.

NB: Eddic poetry is the term given to the poems primarily contained within the Icelandic Codex Regius manuscript, known as the Poetic Edda (written c. 1270, but arguably containing remnants of an older oral tradition). These poems are of unknown authorship. As for Skaldic poetry, these poems were written by known Icelandic skalds (ONI: skáld, ‘poet’), often in the courts of foreign kings, typically Norwegian, praising their patrons in exchange for royal favour; they span approx. c. 800–1300, so in some cases predate the recording (though not necessarily the composition or oral origins) of the Eddic poems.

According to Jens Peter Schødt, the Gylfaginning and Völuspá ‘are certainly the most extensive’ written sources we have on the Norse myths, as they ‘have played the most crucial role in the history of research.’ It is quite possible that GRRM has read much of the available textual sources on Ragnarök to help inspire his own work. That being said, if I had to bet on one being the touchstone source for him, it would be the Gylfaginning, since not only does it include detailed prose accounts of the events leading up to, during, and following Ragnarök, it also includes relevant Eddic poetry (notably Völuspá) in order to authenticate those descriptions. It really is a one of kind, unique source.

So, how about we begin with chapter 51 of Gylfaginning, where it is asked outright by Gangleri (aka King Gylfi) ‘what is to be said about Ragnarök?’ to which High answers:

There are many important things to be said about it. First will come the winter called Fimbulvetr [Extreme Winter]. Snow will drive in from all directions; the cold will be severe and the winds will be fierce. The sun will be of no use. Three of these winters will come, one after the other, with no summer in between. But before that there will have been another three winters with great battles taking place throughout the world. Brothers will kill brothers for the sake of greed, and neither father nor son will be spared in the killings and the collapse of kinship.* So it is said in The Sibyl’s Prophecy:

Brothers will fight,

bringing death to each other.

Sons of sisters

will split their kin bonds.

Hard times for men,

rampant depravity

age of axes, age of swords

shields split,

wind age, wolf age,

until the world falls into ruin.

The above translation is by Jesse Byock from the Penguin Classics Prose Edda — the translations in square brackets are his and included in the text, and he also uses a translated title for the Eddic poems, in this case, ‘The Sibyl’s Prophecy’ in place of Old Norse-Icelandic: Völuspá.

Several things are striking about this passage, chief among them, the fact that the precursor to Ragnarök is the Fimbulvetr, ‘the great and awful winter’ or ‘Extreme Winter.’ But before that, ‘another three winters’ in which much social upheaval will take place, circumstances that feel quite at home in ASOIAF. I would be hesitant to argue that GRRM is using the above description as an exact blueprint, but that being said, some of the circumstances described do feel very familiar to readers of his series:

‘Brothers will kill brothers for the sake of greed’ / ‘Brothers will fight’

This is perhaps suggestive of the Baratheon brothers, Stannis and Renly. Although, I’d say that the motivations/cause of the latter’s death is a little more nuanced than just ‘greed.’ But this is worth noting: the Norse source might offer us the seed of an idea, but it is GRRM who then “waters” it, effectively imbuing these dynamics with a deeper meaning and complexity.

Also, if we think of ‘brothers’ in a less literal sense, this could also apply to the ‘killing’ of Jon Snow by the black brothers of the Night’s Watch.

‘Neither father nor son will be spared in the killings’

Ned and Robb Stark fit into this category quite well, as both their deaths are gut-wrenching moments in the series. But also, more generally, this highlights that anyone, even beloved family, even heroes, can fall.

‘The collapse of kinship’ / ‘Rampant depravity’

In his footnotes, Byock observes the word sifjaslit to mean ‘the breaking of kinship bonds, but there is also the connotation of incest.’ In my ONI dictionary, sifja-slit translates to ‘adultery,’ since it is a compound of the nouns sifjar ‘affinity, connection by marriage’ and slit ‘rupture, breach’ — the latter most likely derives from the verb slitna, meaning ‘to break’ or ‘snap.’

The breaking of marriage bonds is present in ASOIAF, as in the case of Robert and Cersei’s respective adulteries. But we could also view Robb Stark’s marriage to Jeyne Westerling as a breaking of a betrothal bond as well.

Overall, I would say that there is room for both interpretations, and as we know, GRRM is pretty found of incest, prime cases currently present in canon being Jaime and Cersei Lannister, as well as the Targaryens.

‘Wolf-age’

Wolves feature a lot in Norse mythology, so it is interesting that the Starks, who are really the heart of ASOIAF, are so heavily associated with them.

Furthermore, the provisional title for the last book in the series, A Dream of Spring, was A Time for Wolves. The phrasing of this is just another way of saying ‘Wolf-age’, as found in Völuspá. But to potentially understand GRRM’s change in titles, it should be remembered that wolves in Norse mythology are often associated with war and violence — see, for instance, the kennings ‘wolf-wine’, ‘the river of Fenrir’, ‘the warm ale of the wolf’, which all mean blood. As someone familiar with Old Norse poetry, A Time for Wolves suggests to me a period of violence, whereas A Dream of Spring offers more hope and the potential for rejuvenation, perhaps paralleling the events that follow Ragnarök, as described in the Prose Edda and Völuspá (which I might get into further down the line).

‘Until the world falls into ruin’

It is strongly predicted, and alluded in the text itself, that the Wall will at some point fall, an event that will act as a precursor to the second ‘Long Night.’ The Wall is also considered by some people to be the end of the known world, so its destruction is strongly linked with the collapse of the social structure of Westeros as a whole.

As we can see, certain parallels can be made, though it is also worth noting that there are instances where they can’t be. For example, ‘sons of sisters will split their kin bonds’— I can’t really think of a relationship to compare this to in ASOIAF, unless it hasn’t happened in the text yet, and then who would it be? Robert ‘Sweetrobin’ Arryn and…Bran Stark? There are obvious similarities and ways in which we can link these descriptions to GRRM’s text, but we should be cautious to avoid shoehorning.

Indeed, it is fun to make these comparisons, but I think the main take away from this chapter of the Gylfaginning is that during the time closely preceding the Fimbulvetr, there will be ‘hard times for men’ with much social upheaval, including bloodshed, betrayals, and incest. In my opinion, the ‘Long Night’ has been heavily inspired by the Norse Fimbulvetr, and this is reflected in the way ASOIAF characters describe the ‘Long Night’, closely paralleling its Norse source.

To summarise from the above quotation, during the Fimbulvetr:

‘Snow will drive in from all directions; the cold will be severe and the winds will be fierce.’ (Gylf)

‘The sun will be of no use.’ (Gylf)

‘Three of these winters will come, one after the other, with no summer in between.’ (Gylf)

In ASOIAF, the earliest mention of the ‘Long Night’ is in AGOT, Bran I, in which Bran recalls the ‘the hearth tales of Old Nan’ detailing the apparent savagery and cultural difference between the northerners and the wildings, noting that ‘their women lay with the Others in the Long Night to sire terrible half-human children’. This evokes the above quotation from Völuspá, the reference to ‘rampant depravity’ in particular. But it is later, in Tyrion III, that we get the first real parallel between the Long Night and the Fimbulvetr:

Lord Mormont moved to the window and stared out into the night. “These are old bones, Lannister, but they have never felt a chill like this. Tell the king what I say, I pray you. Winter is coming, and when the Long Night falls, only the Night’s Watch will stand between the realm and the darkness that sweeps from the north. The gods help us all if we are not ready.

From the description in Gylfaginning, we know that the Fimbulvetr is preceded by three winters, ‘one after the other, with no summer in between’. Without taking it too literally, this description at the very least suggests that a move towards cold weather will herald the coming of the ‘Extreme Winter’, as this is foreshadowed as early as AGOT in this Tyrion chapter when Jeor Mormont states that he has ‘never felt a chill like this […] Winter is coming’. Directly following this statement is the foreknowledge that the Long Night is indeed on its way.

The reference to a ‘darkness that sweeps from the north’ is noteworthy too, as although most often associated with freezing weather, the Fimbulvetr is also crucially connected with the disappearing of the sun (‘the sun will be of no use’, Gylf). Indeed, the very name the Long Night suggests much the same phenomenon, as explained to Bran by Old Nan later in AGOT, in Bran IV:

Fear is for the winter, my little lord, when the snows fall a hundred feet deep and the ice wind comes howling out of the north. Fear is for the long night, when the sun hides its face for years at a time, and little children are born and live and die all in darkness while the direwolves grow gaunt and hungry, and the white walkers move through the woods.

[…]

Thousands and thousands of years ago, a winter fell that was cold and hard and endless beyond all memory of man. There came a night that lasted a generation, and kings shivered and died in their castles even as the swineherds in their hovels. Women smothered their children rather than see them starve, and cried, and felt their tears freeze on their cheeks.

I mean…this might as well be a description for the Fimbulvetr, it is THAT similar! Indeed, as we know, in the world of ASOIAF the seasons work a bit differently, as alluded to by Old Nan when she refers to ‘a night [i.e. a winter] that lasted a generation’. Similarly, the Fimbulvetr is unusual in that it is preceded by ‘three winters’, which suggests an extended winter lasting up four years, culminating in the ‘Extreme Winter’, aka the Fimbulvetr. It seems likely that the timespan of ‘a generation’ has been exaggerated for the sake of myth making. That being said, we would expect the Long Night to still be noteworthy in its duration. So, perhaps it is possible that, were GRRM to emulate the Norse source, his Long Night could potentially last for a similar amount of time (four years). Either way, I think we all expect it to last longer than it did in the show!

In conclusion, the way in which the Fimbulvetr is described in the Norse sources bears a striking resemblance to the descriptions of the Long Night in ASOIAF. Futhermore, and most interestingly to me, it seems entirely possible that, like the Fimbulvetr, and like the first Long Night that went before it, the next Long Night will include the disappearing of the sun...an important feature that I will discuss further next time! So stay tuned!

References/Bibliography (excluding ASOIAF):

Snorri Sturluson, The Prose Edda, trans. and intr. by Jesse Byock, (London: Penguin Classics, 2005)

Jens Peter Schødt, ‘The Ragnarök Myth in Scandinavia’, in Finding, Inheriting and Borrowing?: The Construction and Transfer of Knowledge in Antiquity and the Middle Ages, 2019, Vol.39, p.365-384

END OF PART 2…

I haven’t quite decided if I will include my stuff about the sun disappearing in Ragnarök and the ‘Red Comet’, or if I’ll give it its own separate part...we’ll see! I would also like to talk a bit about the significance of storytelling as a way of recording history in ASOIAF... Basically, I have a lot of thoughts on things!

[sailorspazz]

10 Dance Vol. 6 Special Edition overview

Volume 6 of the 10 Dance manga was released in Japan on March 18th, 2021. As with volumes 4 and 5, there are both regular and special editions available. In this post, I will provide an overview of the release, including observations on changes that were made to the chapters compared to how they were printed in the magazine, plus summaries and select scans of content from the special edition booklet.

It is often the case that when chapters come out in the manga magazines, they aren't always fully polished, and since I became highly familiar with this run of chapters from the summaries I made, several things immediately jumped out at me as I went through the book. First of all, though chapter 29 was split into two parts and released in subsequent months in the magazine, these two halves were combined into one chapter, with no indication they had ever been separate. I assume that they were always intended to be one chapter, but since the full chapter was not completed before the deadline (and it was a month when 10 Dance was being given the cover image, so not possible to delay its release), it was simply split over two months instead.

For visual changes, the most common alteration was scenes that originally had little or no screentone having it added in:

There were also some instances of either slight panel redraws, or complete replacements with new panels. None of these were from particularly important scenes, so it could just be Inouesatoh or someone on her team didn't like the look of the original panels and wanted to change them. The following example has a bit of both, with Suzuki in the upper left corner being replaced, and his eyes being redrawn in the lower panel:

Personally, the most amusing addition I noticed was when Max was thinking about throwing a party. Originally, we didn't see what he was envisioning, but in the volume, an addition has been made in the background: the New Year's piece Inouesatoh drew with sexy men dressed as cows, except now they're bunnies!

As for dialogue, it appeared to be almost the same in both versions throughout. Some minor exceptions include a spot I found where the dialogue was put in a different order, swapping Sugiki’s lines between this panel and his first line on the following page (in addition to another altered panel example):

As well as in this shot of Suzuki describing how they tug at the thread that connects them through their dance. Whereas before it put the word “dance” next to the part about tugging on the thread to specify what was meant by that, it was deleted in the volume. And while it was originally described as “affirming that we’re connected”, this was also tweaked a bit to be, “affirming our connection”.

There were a couple instances of character names being different from when they appeared earlier in the story. In this volume, two characters who were last mentioned back in volume 2 (Lucas Calvo, one of the champions at the table in Blackpool, and Deeks, who Ernie said hated Sugiki because he "stole" his girlfriend), either from typos or intentional changes, weren't the same as before. Lucas' last name was written with a 'g' sound (ガルボ) instead of a 'c' (カルボ), and this change carried over to the volume. On the other hand, Deeks' (ディクス) name got transposed as Disc (ディスク) in the magazine, but was fixed in the volume.

There was a typo that unfortunately made it through to the volume (but could perhaps be fixed in future printings). In chapter 34, when Norman is testing Suzuki's skills, he flashes back to Sugiki taking the national title from him several years earlier. The text in this scene, written in English, incorrectly states that Suzuki won the championship, rather than Sugiki.

The volume also includes the usual additions that are not present in the magazine, such as the under the cover flap comic, and Inouesatoh’s notes about each chapter.

The cover flap comic (which looks very much like a sketch, compared to previous ones that have had more complete art), features the Shinyas during a practice session earlier on in the series in December, where Suzuki complains that Sugiki’s Latin just isn’t sexy. Sugiki suggests that he can practice being sexy by wiggling his butt around to write a message in the air. Suzuki worries that if he starts writing out “love” or something, he’ll have to run away and escape. Sugiki gets started, and Suzuki calls out each letter that he can make out from his elegant butt bouncing. After figuring out he’s written “M-E-R-R-Y”, Suzuki guesses that he’s writing “Merry Christmas”. Sugiki gets mad that he said it aloud before he finished writing his message, and says he’s going to leave. Suzuki says, “Wait, I love you,” as narrative text says that this somehow turned into a love story in one panel.

And here are some tidbits I found interesting/amusing from the chapter notes:

She thinks readers who are fans of pecs will like Saichi.

She’s not sure if readers will love Max or hate him, but she personally likes him (sorry Sensei, I kinda hate him lol)

As of chapter 32, a portion of the art is now done digitally.

The epic “last dance” scene from 33 was something that she had planned since the beginning of the series, and it ended up being 8 times the cost for a typical chapter.

Special edition booklet:

The special edition comes with a 48 page hardcover booklet that includes a variety of different extras, divided into 8 sections called “heats”.

Heat 1 is a newly drawn, 12 page parody manga. Back in September 2020, Inouesatoh put out a request on Twitter for fans to send in their suggestions for an erotic side story. Putting the characters in a high school setting was the most requested scenario, so she chose this idea as the basis for the story. The title is “And All That Jazz” (the premise makes this somewhat confusing to summarize, so keep in mind that I’ll mostly be describing their actions based on the soul rather than the body, but will use quotation marks if it’s about other characters and who they think they’re addressing. It’ll all make sense, I promise...I think :P)

(The title page actually depicts the ending of the story, so I’ll come back to it later). It starts with Suzuki narrating his introduction, saying that he’s a transfer student to the Standard Academy. He really doesn’t get along with a guy named Sugiki, but for some reason, the two have now switched bodies with each other. Sugiki opens his shirt and inspects his new physique in front of other students, as Suzuki yells out asking what the hell he’s doing to his body. They look at themselves wearing each other’s expressions, Sugiki seeming surprised his mouth can gape open like that, and Suzuki wondering what happened to his body’s facial expression muscles. The bell rings and Sugiki heads off to class, as Suzuki is baffled that he can act so calm about this.

Sugiki perfectly reads a passage aloud in English class, something everyone (including the teacher, who looks like Norman) find unusual coming from “Suzuki”, as they wonder where his usual hearts are. Suzuki makes the decision to enjoy living as Sugiki for a bit, and is shown getting flirty with several girls. He notes that the more serious personality in his regular body is also strangely popular, though with a very different crowd.

A student named Alberko (Alberto in a girl’s uniform) shows up and says that “Sugiki” was supposed to have lunch with her(?) today. Suzuki says that he thought Alberko was going out with Dorou (a masculine alteration to Dolores’ name). Ernie and Suzuki watch as his harem falls apart with Alberko running amok. Ernie comments that both “Sugiki” and that transfer student have been acting weird all week, and he asks if something happened. Suzuki internally reflects back to one week earlier, when he was relaxing in bed in the infirmary. Sugiki comes in and accuses him of skipping class, and Suzuki tells him to mind his own business. He thought this would turn into one of their usual fights, but he can’t believe that actually happened instead...

After school, Sugiki asks Suzuki if they can go home together today. As they’re walking, Suzuki asks if Sugiki realizes what it was that made them switch places, and Sugiki says he does. Suzuki says that in that case, they know how they need to fix it, and they should go over to his house. Sugiki asks for clarification of whose house exactly he means by that.

As they start to get undressed, Suzuki says that he always thought his mom and sisters were annoying, but after a week apart he really misses them. Sugiki promises that he’ll make sure he can see them soon. Suzuki claims that he’ll be the one making Sugiki come, and Sugiki asks how he can talk like that when he was the one who looked like he was about to cry when Sugiki first touched him in the infirmary.

Sugiki peeks into Suzuki’s pants and wonders if he won’t get hard unless he touches him. Suzuki thinks it’d be weirder if he could get hard while looking at his own face, and wonders if Sugiki has AI in his crotch or something (Sugiki contends that it’s not his body). They fool around with each other until they finish, and Suzuki wonders why they didn’t change back yet. Sugiki suggests that maybe it needs to be just like the last time to count as a complete set, when they went at it until they fell off the bed, so both agree that they need to go for one more round. This then ties back to the title page, where they’ve finally managed to get back into their old bodies, but have now sprouted cat ears and tails.

Heat 2 of the booklet is 8 pages long, and contains short comics and illustrations that were not previously included in the volume releases. The comics include “How to 10 Dance”, a one-page comic with the Shinyas demonstrating the tango. Their privates end up touching, and Sugiki seems highly amused, gleefully asking Suzuki how it feels. Suzuki says that he was the one who got all bent out of shape over that back in volume 1, and tells him to lay off the sadist mode since they’re not dancing Latin right now. The second comic is “2nd Step”, and shows a glimpse of how the Shinyas were with each other after Suzuki gave the go-ahead for kissing. In fact, Sugiki ends up kissing him so much that Suzuki’s lips get sore and swollen. Sugiki then tries to kiss his neck as an alternative, but Suzuki’s not having it. The third comic depicts Suzuki’s first time in a public bath, where he realizes that Japanese people aren’t fully shaved everywhere like he is. Some of the old guys talk to him and slap their balls with their towels, and Suzuki, seeming a bit confused, gives his own balls a slap, too. After the comics are a selection of illustrations that were never used in the volumes, including this one from a Real 10 Dance event in 2018:

Heat 3 is 18 pages, and contains a variety of colored versions of both chapter covers and scenes from the manga, a couple of which I’ll share below:

Heat 4 includes 3 pages of insight from the professional dancers who consult for the manga, in which they explain the moves shown in specific panels.

Heat 5 is a single page look at Inouesatoh’s work space.

Heat 6 is 3 pages worth of advertisements that have been used to promote the series, including things like ads that were posted in subway stations:

Heat 7 is a single page look at the storyboard for chapter 1 of the manga.

Heat 8 is a single page showing the covers for foreign editions of the manga (Taiwanese, Korean, North American, and French).

Finally, there’s one last page with a thank you message from Inouesatoh, including an absolutely precious illustration of the Shinyas in happier times.

And that’s that! This really is an incredible release, and I’d definitely recommend picking up the special edition if you can. CD Japan offers direct international shipping, and I’ve also seen that Kinokuniya lists it as “available to order” currently (though they don’t appear to have stock on hand, so might take longer).

[tanakavox]

Look into the mutiverse chapter 4

Thanks again to ExiledDarkness for writing the charcters reaction for this chapter. Please go check out his stuff. And if your wondering where Qrow came from, We forgot to add a scene for Qrow and didn't feel like going back.

This chapter is based of the Youtuber SomecallmeJohnny and his review of Super Mario 64. I had to cut it short because my laptod was acting up again and google docs was acting wonky, parts of the fic getting erased. Rest assure for the Somecallmejohnny fans, I won't just do his reviews. I have plans to do Super gaming bros reaction as well. And for those who don't know Johnny, go check him! Enjoy the reaction.

The screen lights up again and shows Jaune wearing a cap and hoodie and sitting on a bright red couch. He had a bit of stubble on his face and he was currently holding a controller in his hand as he turned on a device known as the N64.

"Oh? Jaune looks good with stubble." Blake comments. Everyone looks at Jaune and then back to the one on the screen. They all nodded in agreement.

"It's a go time! Super Mario 64!" He said in a high pitched voice with a bad accent.

The Jaune on the screen sighed seemingly tired. "Lady and Gents welcome back to the Super Mario marathon, And just like with Ocarina of time, this is a game that haunted me during the N64 lifetime. Jaune looked the the N64 sitting on his dresser and continued. "It was like the console itself was actively mocking me like: "Hey Jauney? How about you ditch that playstation and try me out instead?" The blonde's eyes lit up in anger. "Well I didn't have a job in 1996 you sensitive prick!" Jaune snapped at the console.

Everyone blinked at the sudden anger. Ruby turned towards JNPR and asked, "Are you okay Jaune?"

Jaune, still frozen from the sudden burst of anger from his other self, snaps back to reality and nods at the question. "Yeah, I think I understand what's happening here. But I'll stay quiet until I know for sure."

Jaune turned toward the screen and went on like nothing happened. "Last time I gave Mario attention, I was focused on what made the Italian "Plumber—"" He said with quotation marks. "—the video game icon he is today. Now we're gonna do it again only in 3d."

Jaune turned to his audience and smiled. "You guys ready for another Super Mario marathon?"

"Aha!" Jaune says as he slammed his closed fist on his hand. "This is me doing video games!"

Ren paused at hearing this information. "Then that explains the sudden burst of anger then." Nora and Jaune nod while the rest of the audience looks on confusedly.

RWBY look at each other before Yang hesitantly asks, "So why did he get so angry?"

Jaune laughs before scratching the back of his head. "I like video games but I hate it when I can't progress further into the game. Sometimes I get really into it, I guess."

"Here we go, Super Mario 64, the 64 being figureded to the console and not the 64 game in the series, Mario's first 3d game, and a launch title for the N64. It was highly praised and hailed as the 3d version of what Super Mario bros on the NES did for platemors at the time, Mario 64 did the same. But I came into the 64 train late, So I don't have what you call: Super Mario 64 memories. In fact my first 3d Mario game was the next game we'll be looking at: Super Mario Sunshine on the GameCube. Jaune's expression darkened as he smiled hurmlousy. "But that can wait. Oh it can wait." The tone of his voice was bitter and venomous.

Everyone laughed now knowing the context of Jaune's anger towards video games.

"Alright booting the game up and the first thing you see is Mario's head. You know to really hammer in that this is Mario's first 3d adventure. You can even fuck around with the face a bit but it doesn't really effect the game it's just there for fun.

We're also greeted by Mario's new voice, provided by Charles Margent. Shockingly this isn't his debut as the Jumpman, that was in Mario Fundamental, a Pc game released a year before. Pretty sure no one heard of it before someone did a document on it.

"This idea of a floating Mario head, perhaps more infamously in Mario teaches typing two. A floating deformed head pop on the screen.

"Hey? Are you ready for Mario type?" It asked.

"Mother of God." Jaune deadpan in horror.

"Despite the new voice, Mario doesn't speak much. It's mostly hiyas woohoos throughout the game. And he only speaks a full phase when he completes a goal or he falls asleep on the job. It shows the red clad mario on the ground sleeping.

"Ha spatgai, Ha ravioli." The plumber mutters in his sleep.

Nora drools over the names of food. They sound pretty good right now.

"Charles as Mario is so absorbed into my head I can't imagine anyone else doing the role. It's not like the acting is amazing or anything, he's been voicing Mario for nearly 20 years at this point. If Charles stepped out of the role for any reason, the next guy would just try to simulate Charles' voice.

"It's weird that way," Ren piped up, "No matter what happens people are going to remember the original no matter how much the new one tries to be the old one.

"Hear hear ninja boy" Qrow cheered a bit and took a swig of his beer.

"Okay nearly forgot that I was looking at a video game, Sorry about that. Well let's look at that plot shall we?"

"I'm curious to hear about the kind of story this game might have," Ozpin said as he crosses his legs.

"Boswer kidnaps Princess Peach, Mario must go save her, now that didn't take long now did it?"

Ozpin blinked and sat back in his seat, a bit disappointed.

"I'll let it slide this time since they probably wanted to keep it safe for the first game in 3d. Hell, the menu theme is the main theme for the series."

Qrow snorts. "Fair enough. I guess you can't expect these guys to be that ballsy."

The entire game is set in Peach's castle. Boswer has taken the power star, which I believe gives the castle power? Jaune shrugged. I dunno what they do, it's not really explain and getting more powerstar allows you to get into more levels, and that's the name of the game here. Bowser had set up routine courses in painting.

"The courses tend to varies but nothing here gets too crazy like other Mario games. It's not until late game you go to more odd place like in a clocktower or riding rainbow.

"The game's openness is the first thing you'll take note of in Mario 64. You can start a mission with a hint on what to do,but there is nothing stopping you from just doing a different mission and grabbing the star despite not being the mission you clicked on.

There are a handful of expectations like racing against against Koopa the quick who not gonna show up unless you chose his mission, but most of the time you can go at it on your own pace. Eh, I didn't wanna fight King Bo-mb yet, I want free the chain chomp and get the star there. I could take down King twop, or I could do a well place jump and get this unrelated power star. And that's where a lot of Mario's replay value comes in, not just getting the power star but how you get them.

"Oh, this game sounds fun! I should get it if we ever get out of here." Nora exclaimed.

"With what money Nora?" Jaune asked. Nora looked at Jaune with a wide smile. "No." Jaune deadpan. Nora pouted at his response and turned to Ren with a wide smile.

"No Nora. And do not ask Weiss either." Ren said with his eyes still on the screen and Nora pouted again.

Peach's castle acts as a hub world, the place you're exploring and using to get to other stages to get more power stars. But in order to duke it out with Bowser, you need to get a certain amount of power stars to access the level. As a guy who doesn't care for hub worlds I don't mind Peach's castle. The levels aren't too far apart and there are things you can do in the castle that can help you increase your star count. Like a secret race track that gives you two stars if you're fast enough, or an underwater level that contains an easy to get star. It challenges you in a way that makes it still feel like a Mario game.

"It sounds pretty easy at first glance, but I can understand how annoying it can become if you mess up at least once or twice." Jaune says. Ruby, Nora, and even Ren nod in agreement.

The biggest change to the formula was the jump to 3d, like with Ocarina of Time. He still has to break boxes, stomp on enemies, the works but this game gave the man a few extra moves to go along with the change to 3d. The analog stick is used to move Mario, the further you tilled it the faster he moves, instead of the run button we knew from the past game. Mario still has the jumps he's famous for, but pressing the jump button can allow Mario to reach the heights he's never seen until this game without a power up. He can crouch and crawl but I've only used this a total of once. But you standstill and jump you can do a backflip, and if you crouch and run you can do a long jump which I love using so much and because you can do some real fancy shit with it, and it makes Mario move faster to boot. If you snap the anlong back and jump he can do a somersault and if you jump towards a wall, Mario can wall jump as well.

Nora makes a face at the detailed review. "All these moves and stuff sound annoying. Why can't games be as simple like they are now?!"

Ren sighs and begins to explain but Qrow cuts in. "It's because of games like these were like test models that you get to play the good quality games you have now. I remember playing Soaring Ninja back when he was literally unplayable and useless. Now look at him!"

Ruby and Yang gasp, Soaring Ninja was unplayable?

"I wouldn't be surprised if this move came from the gameboy version of Donkey kong. That remake has a fucklord of levels and a handstand jump for Mario. He still takes damage if he falls too far, so he's just a pale imitation. Jaune had Mario wall jump a wall to prove a point. "The Mario I know could fall from any height and take no dam-" Jaune cut himself off his eyes widening when he heard Mario grunt in pain and his health go down a bit. "WHAT THE FUCK! He took damage from a large height! Mario! What's the meaning of this?" He asked in bewilderment, looking at the floating Mario head from earlier."

"Oh nice computer you have here. Can I have it?" the Mario head asked

"No!" Jaune exclaimed.

Everyone's eyes widened at the scene. Ozpin checked his mug with scrutiny to see if he was still drinking the right drink. Looked normal enough.

"Peach's castle has 120 power stars in the castle, but you only need 70 of them to beat the game." Jaune had a strained smile on his face as he continued. But where the fun in just getting 70 power star and beating the game that way, it not like getting all the star is that time com- for fuck sakes yes it is!"

"Let's just get one thing clear, I fucking depise the 100 coin misson. It's as simple as it sounds, grab 100 coins and then grab the star that appears over your head. Lather rinse repeat, for all 15 courses. In a game that usually has you go to once place and grab the star, collecting these coins brings the game to grueling crawl. Mario 64 doesn't have a checkpoint system. It doesn't bother me much. The levels are usually small and with Mario's new moves getting the Power star is not only comartable, it's also pretty fucking fun. And then their these." That venomous tone from before came back. The screen showcased the blue coins that have appeared throughout most of the video so far.

"Aw it's one of those games! The type that needs you to waste your time actually going through all of what the game has planned for you before you get to the final boss! What a rip off!" Qrow exclaims, tossing his hands in the air. Jaune agrees, crossing his arms and trying not to join in on the rage.

"No amount of looking of cute puppies. can cotain the amount of rage i have when I fuck up these mission with a impeferct jump or when a enemey hits me from behind. It's not always a painful process, but sucks so hard cause the coins are either place so far part or because they're so goddamn scarce! "Gotta kill those enemies before the coins blink away and scatter when they spawn. These blue coins are 5 regular coin a piece but you gotta get them before they blink away and you only got one shot! Was there area I didnt search, an enemy I skipped, I did I fuck up somewhere since I only have 64 coins after look around what feels like for fucking ever?!

"And try not get the last coin in a dangerous area or impossible to backtrack to. The star will always appear right above Mario's head, so make sure it's a safe locati-GODDAMN!"

The star had appeared in a caged area that Mario couldn't reach.

Everyone laughed at the other Jaune's misery. The Arf viewing the screen feels relieved that he himself isn't on the receiving end. Or was he?

"Couldn't just tell the star to come to you Mario?" Jaune asked the Mario head on his computer.

"When a moon hits your eye, like a big pizza pie, that's amore!" Mario began to sing and Jaune facepalm when he didn't get answered. "When an eel lunges out…

"UNGAI?!" Jaune jumping up. A eel appeared and let out a roar and Jaune wasn't in his chair anymore, It being left spinning by how fast he booked it.

"That's amore!" Mario finished singing and chuckled. Get it? Amore eel? I said funny.

"Fuck you!" Jaune said from somewhere in the house.

All the immature audience members fell out of their seats in laughter while the more mature chuckled at the scene.

At the end of the day, I really shouldn't be going for all the Power star, and that's more of a technical issue, but I'm gonna bitch anyway. But despite the age, this game is still a treat to play even today. This has been Somecallmejohnny, and you guys have a Good Day.

Nora stretches and yawns. "Well, that was a nice one. Funny too! I wonder what's next?"

The end

[bomberqueen17]

Title idea: At the Edge of a Whole New Country

Ooh that’s a good suggestion!

I should talk about my usual approach to titles, and why I can’t really usually get anyone to help me. I know I asked for help just now in that post but what I mostly really meant was I just needed moral support, because I have to figure it out on my own, because I’m the only one yet who knows enough to really figure out what it’s got to be. (Although unusually, for this story I do have a beta-reader, though that was mostly since I’m working with them on something else and they were curious about this one and that was a good push for me to consolidate and organize it out of a lot of fragments I’d been working on, so, thanks for that, ao3-user-anoke, and I have mostly been ignoring their very good suggestions because I am a stubborn cuss.)

I know a lot of authors rely on quotes or references or things for titles, but I am not that widely-read really, and have a terrible command of popular music, so I can’t rely on references. I don’t listen to music a lot while writing, I know that’s a popular one-- you pick a line from the song you listened to heavily while writing the story. That doesn’t work for me. I used to listen to music more, in general and while writing, but I’m old and tired and super-undiagnosed-unmedicated-ADHD so coordinating music is just one more chunk of logistics I can’t manage. 

The other thing people do is to really try to sum up what the story’s about in a title. And i’m super bad at that. I almost always go into stories assuming they’re about something other than what they are, and at the end I’ve always discovered something else, and then when people start commenting on another thing I’m like oh yeah that’s what that’s really about, I super meant to do that. (And I did, is the thing, but it can be hard to articulate things to oneself.)

Anyway, so, that one doesn’t work for me either. So what I do is that I reread the story one last time and try to find a pithy line that I can pull out. The problem with this one is that I had a great line, where Lambert’s explaining how being nonbinary is nobody’s fucking business until you hit the awkward point of wanting to fuck someone and it does become their business kind of because it’s relevant and that’s always tricky to navigate, and so I pulled out the phrase Somebody’s Business from that because it did occur in his exact quotation. And I was using that one and then I started thinking and I have another story up on AO3 that’s got a similar title. Nobody’s Business But Yours, and I was like, that’s too similar, I don’t need that. So my second choice, and what I’ll probably go with, is Ideal Man, even though it’s a misgendering, right, because, well, it’s what Keira says when she’s really trying to get him to talk about the topic she doesn’t know how to bring up again, and it works. (We the readers know already, from the previous story, how she’s going to react, but Lambert doesn’t, so he’s being cagey.)

So I’m probably going to call it  The Ideal Man and here’s the quotation, which isn’t all that pithy in isolation but just indulge me and imagine it in the flow of the story. Of course, now that I’ve got it up and formatted in drafts on AO3 and have done the final edits and split it properly into chapters, I was about to hit the go button when I got looking at the little nubby third chapter and then the abrupt transition to the next story that assumes a lot of stuff I don’t show at all, and realized that no, I want to show the next bit, so. Now I’m delayed, trying to work out that third chapter. But! Soon. Anyway, the quote:

She laughed. “You look like the ideal man in all the anatomy books.”

He couldn’t hide his expression at that, and being too tired to say anything wasn’t going to pass any longer. “I’m not one,” he said.

“Right,” she said, indulgent. Maybe a little condescending. “You’re a Witcher. Male, then, I should have said.”

“No,” he said, sharper than he should have; it wasn’t her fault he hadn’t explained it. “It’s not-- that’s not-- I’m not.” Now he couldn’t look at her, and his face had gone hot.

She didn’t move for a moment, hand still spread out across his belly. “You mean,” she said, cautiously, after a moment, “that you’re not--”

His breath was coming faster now and he took a moment to stare up at the tester above them, and try to get it under control. Fuck, he hadn’t meant to get mad about it, that didn’t help anything. “I’m not a man,” he said. “I’m not-- male, I’m not manly, I’m not any of that. I’m me, and I’m--” But he didn’t have a good word for it. 

She took a sharper breath, let it out, then took another, and assayed, “You were talking about yourself, then.”

[toooceanblue]

Fandom: Twilight  Words: 878 Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationship: Bella Swan/Edward Cullen Characters: Bella Swan, Edward Cullen, Alice Cullen, Carlisle Cullen Additional Tags: All the cullens are here but I won’t tag everyone, found family, team (bully) edward, edward is an embarrassing loser, esme is a good mom Summary: “Your name isn’t Carlisle?” I asked dumbly. I felt like my family had lived a double life. I supposed that they had, but somehow a different name is what made that fact real to me, a separate title for each chapter. Turns out the Cullens change their names each time they move. Bella feels disproportionately betrayed by this fact. A/N:  "I for real feel like im reading a fucking twilight book how could you do this to me"- my best friend when I made her read this, I am very honored

-

I folded up another box of CDs with a sigh. Everyone had said we had a few months in Forks still, but I didn’t see the point in putting off the packing. Might as well tear the bandaid off. I heard Alice flit behind me, standing straight for a fraction of a second as she waited for me to turn around.

“Esme wanted to know what name you wanted on the new paperwork. We were thinking Evans for the surname, but Edward and Rosalie are still up in arms about it.” She rolled her eyes.

“I don’t know.” I answered. It didn't matter much to me, as long as Edward and I shared one. “What are the choices? Besides Evans, I mean.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t get involved in that bloodbath,” Alice joked. “I meant for your first name.”

“Um,” I said. “Bella?”

“Oh,” Alice smiled a sort of fond, pitying smile. “Bella that’s...we really should change it, especially since there are still humans around who knew you as Bella.”

“Why...I mean...do you change it?”

“My name?”

“Yeah.”

“Of course. We all do.”

“Your first names?” I muttered, wandering downstairs before she could answer.

Alice followed, joining the rest of us in the kitchen. “Bella, what did you think…?”

“You change your first names?” I asked Carlisle.

“Of course” he answered. I was starting to feel quite stupid, that my questions kept being answered as if they were obvious. Edward had joined me downstairs, though, an ever-present distraction from my feelings of inferiority. Why should I feel inferior, when the most beautiful creature in the world loved me?

“Why?” I asked.

Carlisle smiled as Alice had before. “Well, a family of seven with all the same names popping up half a dozen times of the course of a century might lead to some ghost stories, as you can imagine. It’s precaution, like everything else.”

“Your name isn’t Carlisle?” I asked dumbly. I felt like my family had lived a double life. I supposed that they had, but somehow a different name is what made that fact real to me, a separate title for each chapter.

“Well, my name is Carlisle.”

“But what were you before?”

“His name was Lindsey!” Emmet called from the living room.

“A perfectly common name for the time, I assured you,” said Carlisle, his handsome voice reflecting good humor.

“I’m sorry Bella, I thought you knew,” Esme apologized. “You can keep your name of course, for this go around, if you’re not comfortable changing it yet. Edward needed time too.”

My eyes shot to the man beside me. “Your name isn’t Edward?”

Rosalie snorted. She was met by a reproachful look from Carlisle before Edward answered in a perfect quotation of his father.

“Well, my name is Edward.”

“But what’s your real name?” I demanded. I was feeling oddly betrayed that this piece of information, this treasured facet of Edward, had been kept from me. 

“Bella, love, the name I carried when I met you, the name we share, is the most real identity I’ve ever possessed.”

Though the blood had left me long ago, I could almost feel my face flush. “Okay that’s- that’s cheating Edward, just answer the question.”

“Bella,” Edward pleaded, “Any name from your lips I would answer to. Anything you call me, that is real, that means more to me than anything I was before-”

“Hubert,” Rosalie snapped, and Emmet’s laugh grew louder as he joined us in the kitchen, though I could tell from the way he restrained himself that this was not new information to him. Just to me then. Emmet was just here for the show. “He was Hubert when he was turned. He went by that for nearly two decades after we knew him, he was dreadfully attached to the thing.” she sneered.

I turned to Edward, eyebrows raised. “Hubert?”

“Bella,” Edward murmured, running a thumb over my upper arm. Damnit, he knew how to distract me. “Let’s not focus on the past.” For as much as my own thoughts could be an enigma to him, I could practically see the calculations running behind his eyes. My lips curled into a smile. Oh, I was not going to forget this. “What would you like for your last name? Rosalie and I both wanted Evans, but you see how that would complicate things- what would you prefer?”

I pretended to think. “Mrs. Hubert Evans...I think it flows well.” I felt a swell of satisfaction as Emmet guffawed, and Alice flitted behind him just in time to shield her quiet, full-body laughter. Jasper smiled.

Edward’s face crumpled, ever-perfect, even in agony. “Bella…”

“I’m kidding,” I whispered, and leaned up to kiss him. “Any name you like, I’ll be happy to call you. As long as  we share.” I turned back to Esme bashfully. “I’d like to keep Bella for a bit longer, if that’s alright.”

“Of course, Bella,” Esme smiled, and wrote something down on the stationary before her. It was just like Esme, with the flawless memory of our kind, to make a lovingly scripted list of her children’s new names.

Edward took the moment to recover. “You know…” he whispered to me, “Emmet’s name was Charlie.”

“Hey!” Emmet barked, and I laughed.

[thebubblemaster]

Its midnight and I gotta wake up at 5am to go to work tomorrow but I've been thinking about this for a while and I gotta get it off my chest!

Yall are always complaining about how english teachers find meaning in literature that isn't there and then go off and try to analyze media like youre writing a dissertation. And i can always tell which one of yall actually pays attention in English class bc some of yall don't understand what makes a good analysis! Some of yall just list evidence and expect it to stand for itself and some of yall just go off on explanations without providing any examples. Half the time i ask myself if the person even watched/read whatever it was in the first place! And this applies to both positive and negative analysis. Either way yall have to learn how to analyze things well bc sometimes I see a post I do not agree with but it's well written so I can see where they're coming from, but other times I'm just angry bc its obvious you either didn't pay attention in class or had shitty english teachers.

As someone who considers herself very good at writing analysis essays I can't just stand by and watch yall make fools out of yourselves. Not to flex but, ive been getting As on my last minute essays since freshman year of highschool, so you can be sure that that this advice isn't coming from an amateur.

Anyways, here's my tips on writing an adequate and organized essay for all of your academic and fandom needs.

Forget about the intro. Trust me. I've heard so many people say they get stuck forever on their introductions and it's heartbreaking. If I'm not writing something in class, I always write my introductions last.

Start with your thesis. This is the last sentence of your intro, and really the only important part of that whole paragraph. The basic formula for a thesis is something like, "In Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby, he shows that the American dream is futile through his use of symbolism of the green light, Gatsby's idealization of Daisy, and Gatsby's eventual death." Havent read the book in 5 years but you get the idea. You state what it is you think the author is doing and 3 ways you think you can prove it.

The first sentence of each body paragraph will introduce one reason and briefly elaborate on what it is about the reason you will focus on.

Gather evidence. Pick out exact quotes that appear to support the reasons you've provided in your thesis and separate them by each reason. Even if youre going to paraphrase or cite a scene as a whole as evidence, it's good to have the exact words recorded so you can reference them easier when you go back to actually write the essay. Dont forget to record the chapter and page number each one appears on so you can cite it later on. I usually gather more than I think ill need so I have options when I'm writing my analysis, but you'll need at least 2 per reason.

Explain why you think these quotes or scenes support the reason you gave. Why does the light represent Gatsby's unattainable goals? How does his perception of Daisy and her reality differ?

Connect it all back to the original point of your thesis. How does Gatsby's unattainable goal of a relationship with Daisy compare to the unattainable goal of the American Dream? How does America's perception of this dream and the realities of it's futility reflect in Gatsby and Daisy's relationship?

Repeat 3-6 for every body paragraph and you've got 60% of your essay done.

Conclusion. Restate the thesis. Give brief, one sentence summaries on how each of your paragraphs connect to your overarching point. End it with something like "It is due to Fitzgerald's use of symbolism and characterization that the message of the American Dream itself being an illusion throughout the novel is successful." Praise the author or something along those lines. Dont bring up anything new that you didnt talk about in your previous paragraphs.

Ok, back to the Introduction. The introduction is there to provide context for the analysis. Youre always supposed to write as if your audience has never read the book youre writing about. Introduce the author and the specific work your essay is about. Use the authors full name the first time you mention them and then just the last name every time after. Only mention things that are relevant to what you will be talking about. Keep it concise and build up to your thesis. Introduction paragraphs for analysis essays Do Not have to be long. In fact, it should be the shortest paragraph in the essay. 4-5 good sentences should be enough.

Now here are just some basic tips everyone should know

Book titles are typed in italics: The Great Gatsby. Poems and short stories are written in quotation marks: "The Raven," or"The Yellow Wallpaper."

Never use contractions. Ever. The only reason an apostrophe should be in there is if it's there to be possessive.

Don't use a thesaurus. Seriously. If you're not entirely familiar with a word, don't use it. It's obvious when someone has filtered their essay through one because they're usually unreadable. You don't have to use long words to get your point across.

DO NOT WRITE IN THE FIRST PERSON! There is no "I am going to write about" in a formal essay. This is obvious to anyone who is reading it. Dont say what you'll write about, just write about it!

Don't use words like "attempts" or say things like "this might connect to this" or whatever. State everything as of it is an undisputable fact. Be assertive with your points. It makes you look more credible and like you know what you're talking about.

Write in the presnt tense always even if the author is dead: "Fitzgerald uses symbolism." As well as about a character's actions of the book's events: "Daisy crashes the car and runs over the woman," "Gatsby throws lavish parties."

When teachers say avoid passive voice they mean the noun goes before the verb. "Nick drives the car" not "The car is driven by Nick."

It doesn't matter whether you agree with what you're writing. If you see evidence for a point and its the easiest thing to write about, just do it. No one will care or notice if it's not your real opinion.

If you can frame something in a way that will help your point, then do it. Even if at first glance its not exactly relevant.

You can make anything into an argument if you try hard enough. Which is basically what youre doing when writing an analysis essay, arguing that your interpretation is the right one.

Be as concise as possible. Avoid all tangents to your main point and stay on topic 100% of the time. This will help you keep your essay organized and your reader convinced that you have a solid grasp on the text.

Now go forth and make convincing arguments! Even if they are about weeb shit.

Thank you for your time.

[thenerdydiana]

Formatting Bibliography in Chicago style.

Bibliography

1.      The list of sources used in the paper should appear at the end of the paper.

2.      It should begin on a new page separate from the text of the essay.

3.      In Chicago Citation Style, we name the list of sources ‘Bibliography’.

4.      The word ‘Bibliography’ should be centered at the top of the page (NOT bolded, not underlined, not italicized, not in quotation marks).

5.      The first line of each entry should be flush left. All lines after the first line of each entry in the list should be indented one-half inch from the left margin (hanging indentation).

6.      There should be two blank lines between “Bibliography” and the first entry.

7.      There should be one blank line between remaining entries.

8.      Lines within the bibliography entries should be singled-spaced internally; however, you should leave an extra line space between the bibliographic entries.

9.      Entries should be arranged in the alphabetical order according to the first word in each entry. As a rule, it is the author’s last name. If no author or editor is listed, the title or keyword by which the reader would search for the source may be used instead.

10.  The author’s name is inverted in the bibliography. Place the last name first and separate the last name and first name with a comma.

11.  Use “and,” not an ampersand, “&,” for multi-author entries.

12.  The 3-em dash (—) should be used to replace authors or editors’ names who hold multiple, successive entries in a bibliography.

13.  As a rule, the year of publication is mentioned at the end of the entry.

14.  In the Bibliography, all major elements are separated by periods (whereas in notes, all major elements are usually separated by commas).

15.  In Bibliography, in the text of the paper and in the notes, titles of books and journals are italicized. Titles of articles, poems, chapters, poems, etc. are placed in quotation marks.

16.  The title case is used for all the titles in the Bibliography.

[sineala]

Author Meme

Author Name:

Sineala

Fandoms You Write For:

Currently, Marvel Comics. You may also remember me from The Eagle.

Where You Post:

AO3.

Most Popular One-Shot:

As measured by hits, technically, the answer to this question is Slipping off the Page into Your Hands (616), my first Steve/Tony fic, which is a soulmates + identity porn retelling of about twenty years of comics canon. However I didn't really understand posting stories in chapters at the time and technically this is a 70,000-word one-shot. I'm very sorry. I won't do it again.

If you'd like one-shots with more reasonable word counts, I've got Think of This as Solving Problems (That Should Never Have Occurred) (616), a Steve/Tony amnesia + identity porn fic at 35,000 words, and also Follow in Your Footsteps (616), a Steve/Tony soulmate story at 7,000 words, which probably counts as a one-shot by everyone's standards.

You'll never guess what my favorite tropes are. *covers face with hands*

Most Popular Multi-Chapter Story:

Thrust Issues (616), a 130,000-word Steve/Tony story in which Captain America has an extremely large penis and his BFF Iron Man would like to help him lose his virginity. I write only the finest and most classy of literature. It has eight sex scenes.

Favorite Story You Wrote:

Straight on till Morning (616), my Steve/Tony Star Trek AU. You mean I get to take two of my favorite fandoms and paste them together? I basically just had a whole lot of fun throwing in all my favorite tropes from both canons and trying to come up with a way to translate the Avengers characters into the Star Trek universe.

I'm also pretty proud of Double Time (616/Noir) because I feel like it was one of those stories that came off exactly how I imagined it in my head and that almost never happens.

Story You Were Nervous to Post:

Chosen Man (The Eagle), which I wrote when I first got into the fandom, then waited about two years without posting it, and then finally posted it when the fandom was mostly dead. I didn't have an outline and I actually didn't have a beta and I just kept writing until it looked like somehow I had an ending. (I also did pretty much the same thing with Arcadia (Pros). I guess I like to finish novel-length stories and then wait years before posting them. I have a lot of anxiety, okay? I sign up for challenges because otherwise I would literally never post anything.)

How Do You Choose Your Titles:

I was going to say it's all song titles but maybe it's more like 50% song titles. Most of the Eagle stories are quotations in Latin. I have a rule for myself that I'm not allowed to title the story in Latin unless it's actually set in Ancient Rome.

Do You Outline:

Definitely. I wouldn't be able to remember what was supposed to happen without it.

Complete:

263 stories. Ha. Um. Yes. Well. No, wait, there's that unfinished Eagle space AU story. 262, I guess. Maybe I should just mark that complete. It kind of has an ending? A couple of the stories are translations of Latin fic (mostly mine) into English.

In-Progress:

When My Heart Bleeds: The Madame Masque story that was going to be one of my RBBs this spring before RL intervened. An established-relationship Steve/Tony AU of the Avengers v3 Nefaria Protocols arc. Featuring Whitney Frost (of course), a whole lot of hurt/comfort, a very familiar flophouse, Tony's alcoholism rearing its ugly head, a very protective and occasionally terrifying Steve, and a bunch of Avengers attempting to do the right thing based on extremely limited information. Status: done, currently in beta. 150,000 words.

Untitled Star Trek AU Sequel: Steve and Tony are on the worst shore leave ever, and it's getting worse by the minute. The fate of the Federation hangs in the balance. It was supposed to be a nice relaxing shore leave and then everything went wrong. Currently 100,000 words and I am supposed to be working on it now so we will see how this goes. Still near the end of chapter 3 (out of 6). I’m going to finish! I swear! I wrote some words last night!

MTH 2018 Collaboration With Kiyaar: We've got... ideas. Definitely we have several of those. We're gonna destroy you.

Coming Soon/Not Yet Started:

My ideas file is huge. Here are some of the more complicated ideas and not the ones that are just, like, “Steve in his commercial art days ends up drawing gay porn for rent money" or “the RT node breaks Tony’s dick.”

1930s Thoroughbred racing AU: Steve is a jockey. Tony is an owner/trainer. Together, they're going to try to win the Triple Crown. And, you know, fall in love. And there will probably be some h/c as Steve will probably fall off a horse or two.

All-Time Low sequel(s): I swear I'm going to fix them, and that means h/c all the way up to the blizzard.

Double Time sequel: I don't know if I'm really going to write this, but it would be fun. It would be 616 Director/Commander -- Secret Invasion but this time it goes better because Steve is alive and that way Tony can actually focus on things that are not all-consuming grief. Also, this time Steve would know the Illuminati exist.

Other Star Trek AU: Assuming I am not completely burned out on Star Trek AUs after finishing the SotM sequel, Phoenix keeps drawing art for an entirely different Star Trek AU (trust me, it would be an entirely different Star Trek AU) and I would very much like to write something for it because it delights me so much.

Secret Sub Steve: That D/s AU I posted the premise of a while back, in which Steve is a sub (frankly, a pretty terrible sub) and Rebirth is intended to make him a dom. It does not, and Steve has to lie about who he is as he falls apart more and more... and then he meets Tony, who turns out to be the dom he has been waiting for.

Another D/s AU: In which Steve and Tony meet on an anonymous hook-up site and, gosh, they get along so well, these two complete strangers. It's like they've known each other for years.

Time-travel identity porn: A ToS-era story after Tony is Iron Man but before the Avengers show up, in which he is visited by a man from the future who says his name is Steve Rogers, he says he needs Tony's help to get home, he knows a whole lot of things about Tony that no one else does, and he's very, very easy to fall for.

Do You Accept Prompts:

Not outside of fannish auction situations; it stresses me out too much to try to write fic to specifications, but I make an exception for charity. Speaking of which, I am offering another story for MTH this year, and this time I promise it's going to be a short one (5k or so), so I will definitely finish it. So if you’ve ever wanted me to write you something short and sweet (or short and heartwrenching, you know, whichever), I can make that happen.

Upcoming Story You Are Most Excited to Write:

I dunno, man. Either the sub Steve story or the ATL sequels. Honestly, I will just be happy to be finally done with the WIPs I am working on now. They are SO LONG.

Tagged By:

@mizzy2k

Tagging:

Anyone who wants to do it!