#titles are useful indicators of what the translator thinks the book is really about and what they think everything else is supporting tho

[finelythreadedsky]

i'm fundamentally opposed to book titles in translations of ancient epics ('beguilement on mount ida,' 'a hero's son awakens,' 'the olive tree bed,' 'camilla's finest hour,' 'juno served by a fury') bc it just seems like too much to me to presume you know what single thing the book is really about, but christopher logue is allowed to do it

[nikethestatue]

Having been in this fandom for a long time, I think what's become apparent--and I think that's where most of our problems stem from--is that PERSONAL INTERPRETATION has become the default thing to fall back onto, and consequently, it's been used over and over again to negate or disregard the author's INTENT, because it doesn't align with personal preference. Consequently, people began being duped into believing that a reader's personal interpretation of text is 'right' and that canon doesn't matter and that SJM's own intention don't matter as well.

Here are some examples:

Did SJM INTENDED for Cassian to be a terrible mate who will sell Nesta for a chicken nugget if Rhys tells him to? Was the intent to show how poor Nessian pairing is?

OR

Is it just that Cassian did not live up to the readers' own expectations of what they wanted for Nesta? And is their interpretation of Cassian as an awful match for Nesta, who doesn't care about her, only cares about sex, and would never stand up for her or support her, actually correct?

Did SJM INTENDED for Gwyn's scenes in ACOSF to be romantic towards Azriel? Was her cutting the ribbon or climbing or running a prelude to the great Gwynriel romance novel?

OR

Is it that Gwyn was created to be a springboard for Nesta's self-discovery and healing? Someone who accepted, supported and encouraged Nesta when Nesta was at her lowest? And did many readers' animosity towards Elain's characters drove them to willfully interpret absolutely non-romantic scenes as romantic in a futile hope that somehow, their personal wants would translate to page?

Did SJM intended for Rhys and Feyre to be viewed as ignorant despots who hate their own people, only care about wealth and power, and don't give a damn about anyone but themselves and their five houses?

OR

Is Rhys's love for Feyre the driving force behind many of his decisions? for example giving her an extravagant house? Does Rhys really want to trample on everyone's rights, or is he allowing some of his subjects the freedom of autonomy and self-actualization? Is the intent to show that he is a thoughtful and imperfect leader, who cares about the welfare of his people, or is that he is a dictator who gave his lover an empty title?

While SJM's execution of certain topics isn't perfect, I think that wilful ignorance and the desire to see something that isn't there, and something that SJM didn't intended at all, is really the cause of all the shipwars and the IC hate.

Is SJM REALLY in love with Lucien and is excited to write his book, or is that the fantasy of his stans? Whereas SJM's never been particularly complimentary towards Lucien and his character in interviews or in canon?

Will Tamlin's elusive 'redemption arc' REALLY be something that SJM is interested in writing? Or her calling him a 'douchebag' is kind of indicative of her feelings towards him?

"Elriels are obsessed with canon'. We heard this again and again and again. Being obsessed with canon' simply means that we are paying attention to what SJM's intentions are and what she wants to convey through her words. Elriels, just like everyone else have headcanons about Elain, and Az, and Elriel. But we don't discard the actual books and writing in favour of our headcanons.

I feel that lack of consideration towards 'intent' is really leading some people down a very slippery road, where at the end of it, they'll find a lot of crushed dreams. Because most of the time, 'black' is just....black. It's not white. It's not even opaque. It's just, black. I think people should remember that when they do their 'analysis'.

[fantasyinvader]

Found another Pat thing.

Remember Byleth’s solo ending in Flower, where it talks about how Byleth fights to bring about “true peace”? There’s another mention of “true peace,” and it’s an ending connected to the solo one. The Jeritza ending, where it’s shown that the “sword” Byleth continues to use isn’t the Sword of the Creator but the Sword of Seiros instead. These are final lines of the ending, translated through DeepL: “But one day, the two heroes disappeared from the stage of history. Never again would the menace stirring in the depths of Fodlan return. But the world will never know the whereabouts of the heroes who fought for true peace.”

Jertiza throws himself into the battle with TWSITD even in his solo ending, so there’s I think this would confirm that even in Byleth’s solo ending TWSITD is taken out despite the history texts saying Byleth will continue to fight for “true peace.” Now think about that context of the S support with Jeritza, where they talk about how they will one day fight each other after the Slithers are taken out and how this may be “love.” Their love, regardless of gender, will result in Byleth fighting a mentally ill man to the death and then disappearing. Hell, Jeritza disappears in his solo ending as well, so it probably happens unless he has a different paired ending.

I think there’s a deeper implication to this, however. Much like how various endings in Flower are meant to link together, to give hint to the truth of Edelgard’s rule (hell, the aforementioned endings pretty much state that Edelgard is rewriting history to make herself look good... while the Jeritza ending has them referred to as “heroes” in what the Japanese specifies as Adrestian history books), these endings imply that Byleth really doesn’t have anything to live for. Byleth takes out TWSITD in the name of “true peace” and then disappears. Never mind that Hubert is putting down rebellions against Edelgard, or that the Imperial army is marching on other nations, taking out TWSITD is enough for Byleth to be done and they’ll just fuck off. If the Jertiza ending is any indication... perhaps Byleth wants to see if Jeritza can kill them as well. Regardless of gender, Byleth has this option to enter into the mother of unhealthy relationships at the end of Flower with the game linking it to their solo ending.

Byleth is suicidal at the end of Flower, and we saw hints of this in the Hubert support where they say they need to be killed if they can’t maintain their “humanity.” Byleth doesn’t have a place of their own in Edelgard’s NWO, whatever life they live is fully dependant on their partner. Meanwhile, while Empire makes them out to be a hero, the texts at the end reveal that historians know about the shadow war, they call Hubert evil for what he does to support Edelgard, and we also get the implications that Edelgard’s reforms fail. The empire might call Byleth a hero, but to others they are the one who enabled Edelgard to conquer the continent and then invade other nations. The “Wings of the Hegemon” is not meant to be a good thing because it associates Byleth with the rise of a tyrant. Meanwhile, “The Flame that Seeks their Own Destiny,” the title Byleth gets for walking their own path, is instead changed to “Wandering Flame” implying they are lost in the world without Edelgard or the other lords.

Let's just look at Byleth's solo ending one more time. Adrestian history calls Byleth a hero according to the Jeritza ending, but we also have that same history saying that Byleth lost their powers due to an injury. This is discounted both by what we see, as well as the Japanese Sothis support heavily implying Byleth lost their powers because they broke Sothis' heart causing her to leave while leaving behind the Sothis that knew Byleth. Still, the Imperial history implies Byleth is still using the SotC, which is shown false in the Jeritza ending. Byleth fights for true peace in theirs, while is said to bring about true peace in the Jertiza ending before disappearing in the same manner Jeritza does in their solo ending.

But sure Pat, tell me that Edelgard is meant to be the hero.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hello! I had a lore question about Twisted Wonderland and after reading through your blog, I figured you'd be the best person to ask! ^-^ My game keeps glitching, so I may have missed any info on this. But do we have any information on witches and sea witches (Assuming they exist in Twisted Wonderland because of Ursula.) in the game? I heard Epel's grandmother is a witch, but I don't know if anything else about witches are mentioned. And if so, how are witches viewed in Twisted Wonderland?

I don’t believe there’s a distinction between male and female mages (which is what I think you’re talking about when you say ���witch”?). There is not any significant lore which would indicate or imply that female mages are treated differently than male ones.

In the instance you mentioned with Epel describing his grandmother, I’m pretty certain he just says she “can use magic”. Riddle's mother is also referred to in a more generalized term ("magical healer/medical mage"). In most instances, the characters refer to people who can use magic as “mage” or “sorcerer” rather than using traditionally gendered terms. For example, Crowley is the "headmage", not the "headwizard". The terms “witch” and “wizard” are actually scarcely used. This is also true of the Japanese version of the game, where 魔法士 (mage) or 魔術師 (sorcerer) is used rather than 魔法使い (wizard) or 魔女 (witch).

The one big exception to the witch/wizard rule I can think of is when they refer to the Sea Witch/海の魔女, as that is Ursula’s title among the Great Seven. There are no “sea witches” as a group, Ursula is THE Sea Witch (singular, no others). If we want to be really technical here, Maleficent is also called the Thorn Witch/茨の���女 in Japanese, but her title was localized in EN as Thorn Fairy. Again, like Ursula, this is her title and she is the only Thorn Witch around; it’s not a group or a classification.

In any case, words like “witch” and “wizard” are no longer used in modern Twisted Wonderland. Why is that? Well, according to Lilia in book 6, part 18, "witches" and "wizards" is outdated terminology from a time when it seems that magic users in general were feared:

If witch/wizard is used at all, it most likely comes from the fandom/fans speaking about characters or from fan translations and not from the actual game itself, whether EN or JP. Within the world of Twisted Wonderland, the terms "witch" and "wizard" are no longer considered modern (think of it as like outdated slang or how no one nowadays uses “gigglemug”). It may even be considered inappropriate (like the terms are now considered offensive), but I don't think that's the case (otherwise, why would venerated woman like Ursula and Maleficent still be called the "Sea Witch” and the “Thorn Witch”?).

Vocabulary evolves with time and culture, and isn't exactly the same between our world (where witch/wizard/mage etc. can be used as synonyms interchangeably) and TWST's world.

[downwiththeficness]

The Usurper-Chapter Twenty Five

Summary: Lilah McNamara stole things for a living. It was tedious work and often dangerous, which made it just exciting enough to keep her interested. After botching a routine job, Lilah finds herself standing amid monsters. Wholly unprepared for the horror of living under Amaru’s reign, Lilah decides to use her well honed skills to thwart the queen’s plans and prevent the end of the world.

Word Count: ~4,200

Disclaimer: I do not consent to this work being copied or posted to other sites of blogs.

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Translating the book was a hell of a lot easier with Javier’s program. The Book of the Scribe had many of the same elements present in the tome she already translated. Lilah compared some of the sections from one to the other and decided that they were definitely written by the same person. Same word choice. Same way of delivering information. Same illustration style. While the Book of the Scribe was a compendium of history with accompanying commentary, the smaller book was the Cliff Notes. An easy to carry reference for rituals on the go.

Lilah skimmed the pages while she waited for program to work through the part she was most interested in. On the computer screen, a yellow bar whizzed across the screen, highlighting sections to be translated before moving on. The letters appeared slowly, one by one, forming words that she refused to read until she had it all.

With one hand, Lilah reached over and grabbed a glass of vodka and lime. She drank it slowly, forcing herself to stare at the odd texture of the Book of the Scribe and not at the computer screen. It was smooth in places and wrinkled in others. There was no lettering or any kind of writing on the outside to indicate a title or the author. Despite the theft of relics taking up the most of her income, Lilah didn’t have the expertise to know the book’s age. She didn’t think knowing all about ancient book binding would do her any good if the book, itself, wasn’t from this dimension.

The glass was empty too soon. She contemplated pouring another while focused on the laptop screen. The program gave a happy little ping to let her know that it had finished its task. A long section of English text ran side by side with the same section in Xibalban. She read it. Read it again. And then, read it a third time. On the fourth time through, Lilah’s nose was so close to the screen that her breath fanned across it, forming a puff of mist on the screen.

“No,” she muttered to the empty room. Lilah blinked hard to clear the way her vision blurred and sat back. The words formed sentences, which then formed ideas. All perfectly normal for a book. “No. There’s got to be a mistake.”

It couldn’t say what Lilah thought it said. There was no reality where the translation was correct. Lilah selected the passage and had it translated again. While she waited, Lilah rolled over on her hip and snagged the vodka from her nightstand. Her hands were shaking so hard that she nearly dropped it. Leaning against the headboard, Lilah drank straight from the bottle while a yellow bar moved across the computer screen.

A few minutes later, Lilah looked at the text again. It was the same. She slammed the laptop closed and pushed it across the mattress. Then, because it seemed like a good idea, she drank more vodka. While she drank, Lilah mulled over what she now knew.

“Of course,” she said to the ceiling. “Of course that’s how it ends.”

The more Lilah thought about it, the more she began to think that she really wasn’t in any different a position than when she started. The only difference between now and twenty minutes ago was a matter of details. Details that fucking sucked, but details nonetheless.

“There has to be something I can do,” Lilah whispered. A small voice echoed back that there wasn’t. What she read felt like a fucking prophecy and, while she didn’t have a lot of experience with prophecies, she thought that it was generally accepted that they came true. There wasn’t anything in the passage about how to stop the inevitable and Lilah was fresh out of plucky young heroes to intervene at just the right moment.

Beside her, Lilah’s phone buzzed. She ignored it and began scrolling through the rest of the text, thinking maybe there was something in it that would help. A counter ritual or some kind of shield. Anything that she could use for protection. If not, maybe the professor Seth mentioned had some ideas. As the words flew by, Lilah tried to push down a vague sense of panic. The silver lining of the whole thing was that she had time—time, and the one thing Amaru would need to see this through. Without the book, she might only be guessing at what she needed to do to pull off the ritual.

The phone buzzed again. She passed a hand over her eyes and picked it up. A notification popped up over her messages app. Lilah tapped it.

I could feel that you hadn’t gone far. Followed by, Do you really think a bar is the safest place for you right now?

She smiled and ran her fingers over Brasa’s text. Lilah missed him. Missed talking to him. Missed showing him all the fun things about her world. She even missed the way arguing with him made her so damn frustrated. After so many months in close quarters, waking up without knowing she would see him was disappointing.

Lilah opened up the message and her thumbs hovered over the screen. I was wondering when you’d figure it out, she wrote.

There was a pause before she got a reply, I didn’t. Javier told me.

She smiled and rolled her eyes. Quickly, Lilah typed out, You tell him I’ll get him back if it takes a hundred years.

Noted, Brasa replied. Then, I would like to visit you.

Lilah’s heart gave a little lurch. He still wanted to see her? After everything she’d done? Her fingers eagerly tapped out a response. Okay. When?

Tonight.

Okay, she repeated. I’ll have to tell the boys. They won’t like being surprised.

I’m not worried about them.

No, of course not.

The time it took for Brasa to respond made her think the conversation was over. Lilah stared at their shared messages and tried to come up with a believable way to continue the conversation. Brasa was definitely going to want some answers for the way she left him and Lilah was prepared to justify what she’d done. She hoped that they could come to some kind of agreement, if only an agreement that they agreed to disagree. There were bigger things that needed to be dealt with, other than their respective egos.

Lilah had only just set the phone aside when it buzzed again. The screen lit up with a message. I am worried about you.

She sighed and felt her lips lift into a soft smile. I’m worried about you, too.

No other message came after that. Lilah dropped the phone on the bed and drank again from the vodka bottle. After swallowing down a healthy swig, Lilah briefly read the metallic label to check the proof and decided that she should probably stop drinking. She was already nervous about seeing Brasa again—this time in real life—and she wanted to be sober for it.

Rising, Lilah went over to the small bundle of clothing she’d accumulated. While most of it was practical and suited her life at the bar, it didn’t seem to fit the bill of meeting her sort-of lover for the first time since...well, since she ran out on him. She held up a t shirt with a cartoon lizard on it, trying to imagine having what was definitely going to be a serious conversation while wearing it. Scoffing, Lilah tossed it to the side.

She scratched her head and looked helplessly around for something that didn’t have a kitschy slogan emblazoned across the front. Her eyes fell on the glittering dress hanging on the back of her door. The notion of meeting Brasa while wearing it was appealing. She smiled, but nixed the idea. Lilah didn’t want to over-correct, even though she was absolutely sure Brasa would love it. She kept looking and spotted a swatch of white fabric throw haphazardly over the end of the bed. Lilah smirked and picked it up.

A few minutes later, she breezed into the office where Seth was counting cash for the register, “I need a belt.”

He looked up as she entered and lifted a brow, “What?”

“I need a belt. Brown, if you have it.”

“Why?”

“I’m meeting someone.”

“Who?”

“Brasa.”

“When?”

“Tonight.”

“Where?”

“Here,” she snapped at him. “Are you gonna follow up with ‘how’ or do the five ‘w’ questions cover it?”

Seth’s body tensed, “He’s coming here?”

“Yes.”

“Is he planning on killing us while he’s here?”

“No.”

“Okay,” he sighed tiredly, running his thumb over his eyebrow. “I’ll get you a belt.” A pause, “You’re not planning on strangling him with it, are you?”

Lilah laughed, “No. Wouldn’t work, anyways. He’s immortal, you know.”

“I do know,” he replied, with meaning. He stood and left the room, returning shortly with a brown belt looped around his fist. Seth handed it to her, saying, “Why do you need a belt to see Brasa?”

She fiddled with the buckle, “I only have one piece of clothing that didn’t come from a convenience store. It needs a belt.”

“Ah,” he breathed. “Is he still mad?”

“No idea,” Lilah replied with a shrug. “He seems kind of calm about it, but he can be hard to read.”

Seth leaned a hip on his desk, “You need back up?”

“Nah. He can’t hurt me.”

“Doesn’t mean he can’t take you.”

Lilah couldn’t argue with that. “I’m hoping I won’t have to convince him not to.”

His answering hum didn’t sound convinced. Lilah wasn’t very convinced, herself. She was under no illusion that Brasa could and would respond to her underhanded actions with underhanded actions of his own if he felt like it was the best thing to do. All his calm and all his worry could be just a strategy to put her off her guard. She could only hope that he would wait long enough for her to explain.

“Well,” Seth said. “I don’t see why you shouldn’t be prepared, just in case.” He reached into his desk and pulled out a small pistol, offering it to her.

Lilah shook her head, “I’m not good with guns. Terrible aim.”

“Then, you get close enough that aim won’t matter,” he replied firmly. His wrist flicked, shaking the gun in her direction. “Take it.”

Reluctantly, Lilah grasped the handle and checked the safety. Then, the mag. Then, the chamber. Assured that it wouldn’t go off accidentally, she held it with the barrel pointed towards the ground and said, “Thanks. For the belt and the...gun.”

“No problem. Listen, we got a truck that’s late and I gotta raise some hell with our vendor. When is Brasa supposed to be here?”

“Uh, he said tonight. I’m going to assume that’s after sunset.”

A nod, “You stop in here before you meet him. I want to know when an enemy is on my turf.”

“I’ll do that.”

As it turned out, Lilah was right. Brasa arrived not long after sunset. Lilah was true to her word and dropped by the office on her way down the hall. She leaned through the doorway, “He’s here.”

Richie looked up, “Who?”

“Brasa,” Seth answered for her. He was signing off on what looked like paychecks.

Richie lifted a brow, “Are we going to fight?”

Lilah sighed, “No. At least, I hope not.”

“Is she armed?” Richie asked his brother.

Seth kept signing, “She is.”

“Good.” Then, to Lilah, “Have fun!”

“Thanks,” she deadpanned before turning and making her way down the hall, through the bar floor, and out the front door. While she walked, she could feel the weight of the gun pushed into her belt at the small of her back. It was heavy, and she knew it would throw off her already terrible aim. She almost decided not to carry it. A bullet wasn’t going to hurt Brasa, would probably only make him more angry. Lilah decided that making Seth feel more comfortable was worth feeling the weight of the pistol at her back, even if it wouldn’t necessarily help her.

Parked at an angle about twenty feet from her was a black SUV. Through the window, she could see a familiar face—the kid who first drove her out into the desert was sitting at the wheel. His window was rolled down and a lit cigarette hung from an arm draped over the side of the car. He acknowledged her with a nod. Lilah returned the gesture.

The back door opened and a boot dropped down onto the cracked asphalt below. Brasa got out of the car in a smooth, elegant movement. Lilah took him in, trying to gain some kind of clue about how he was feeling. His expression was unreadable behind his the gold rimmed aviators. The turn of his mouth was neutral and he’d freshly shaved. He was wearing his leather coat, but she could see a soft blue shirt peeking out from beneath the lapel. Brasa closed the door behind him and walked a few steps towards her, stopping a polite distance away. Then, he took off his sunglasses with one gloved hand and tucked them into his pocket.

Lilah felt her breath catch in the back of her throat. There was something very much like the Brasa she met the night he’d taken her from the church in the person standing in front of her. His shoulders were pulled back and his chin was lifted. The lights of the bar seemed to cringe away from his body, leaving him fringed in shadow. His eyes...she swallowed hard. Brasa’s eyes were blazing with unchecked emotion. She didn’t know which emotion, exactly, but it gripped her like a physical thing, holding her in place.

She cleared her throat and tried not to fidget. There were plenty of things she wanted to say to him, mostly about how sorry she was that she’d left and how necessary it had been for her to do so. Lilah knew that she needed to explain things to him, but couldn’t figure out how she wanted to begin now that she was finally face to face with him. She started to say something, to greet him like a normal person. Her mouth refused to form around the words. They stuck at the back of her throat, scratching their way downwards in an effort to escape.

Brasa’s eyes continued to convey his emotion. She could see the way his irises wanted to expand. The edges wavered, cutting sporadically into the white. Whether it was from anger or betrayal or rage, she couldn’t tell. All of that would be understandable, given what she’d done. Lilah decided that she was going to keep her mouth shut and give him the opportunity to say it.

“You’re wearing my shirt.”

The surprise she felt at those four words broke her from the spell that held her still, Lilah felt half a smile cross her lips, “Uh, yeah. Yeah I am.”

A little wrinkle formed between his brows, “Javier said you used our card.”

“Oh,” she said. “Yeah, that was for a job. I needed a dress.” Then, because she couldn’t help herself, Lilah turned a coy shoulder, “You want to see it?”

The muscles around his mouth twitched, as if he were hiding a smile, “I don’t think either Gecko would tolerate me entering their bar. Its bad enough I’m setting foot in their territory.”

“They seemed pretty okay with it when I talked to them about your visit.”

Brasa’s gaze shifted past her, “Seth is standing at the bar, staring at us. Richie is on the roof.” He took a single step closer, “And you are armed.”

Lilah barely resisted the urge to press her hand against the gun slipped into the belt at her back, “Uh, yep. I am armed. It was kind of a requirement. Just in case you decided to steal away with me.”

She said it in a dismissive, lighthearted way, but they both knew it was the truth. If he truly wanted to, Brasa could reach out, snatch her up, and haul her back to the caves. Lilah could kick and scream the whole way, but it wouldn’t deter him. No one, not even Richie, could stop him.

“The thought had crossed my mind,” he replied in a level voice. “A gun wouldn’t deter me.”

“I am...very aware of that.” Lilah pushed her hair back from her face, “I got the book.”

Brasa frowned, “You told me.”

“I also translated it.”

His brows lifted, “And?”

“I know what Amaru is planning. And, I know how she is going to do it.”

“Do you?” There was something odd in his tone, something that sounded a little too close to apprehension.

Lilah ignored it and continued, “We know that she wants to open a door. There’s a ritual in the book that tells her how. She’ll need some relics—a cup and a few other things—but, the main thing she needs is a heart.” She paused, then said, “A certain kind of heart. A, uh, Xibalban heart. Freshly cut from the chest.”

For the first time since stepping out of the car, Brasa broke eye contact with her. He hummed lowly and shifted his weight. Lilah waited for him to say something, or show surprise, or give any kind of sign that he understood the gravity of what she was saying. He didn’t.

Lilah stared at him in confusion before a realization hit her with the force of a punch to the face. “You son of a bitch!”

Brasa’s hand lifted in defense, “Lilah…”

“No, don’t say my name like that,” she bit out. “Don’t say my name like I’m overreacting.”

He shook his head, “Let’s just take a breath.”

“You can take a fucking hike, you asshole!” Lilah pushed at his chest. “You knew! You knew the whole time!”

Once she got started, it felt impossible to stop. Her fists flew at Brasa, hitting him in the chest, the shoulder, across the temple. He let her rage at him for half a minute before taking her wrists in his hands and pulling her into his chest. Lilah struggled to get free, whipping her shoulders left and right. He held on, even managed to get an arm around her body so that she was caged in. Lilah kept pushing at him, stomping her feet and jerking backwards. It didn’t do anything but dislodged the gun at her back.

“Stop, Lilah.”

“Fuck you.”

“I know,” he soothed. “I know you’re mad.”

“I’m not mad,” she spit at him. “I’m fucking furious, you lying sack of shit. You should have told me she was going to use you.”

“It doesn’t have to be me. She could use Javier’s heart, same as mine.”

Lilah looked him in the eyes, feeling tears well up, “Bullshit. Javier’ll fight back.” She took a shuddering breath, “You won’t.”

His expression turned soft and his grip loosened enough that Lilah was able to stumble away. She righted her clothes and sniffed back the emotions that threatened to overwhelm her. Her breath pushed in and out of her lungs and she could feel the blood in her veins rushing to and from the heart that pounded in her chest. To give herself another few seconds to regulate the tumult inside her, Lilah leaned down and picked up the gun.

She couldn’t believe how gullible she’d been. She couldn’t believe that she thought for even a second that Brasa wasn’t fully aware of what Amaru was planning for him.God, he’d even told her that he worked with Javier on opening the door the first time.For someone who had just planned a heist in twenty four hours, she was such an idiot.

Brasa’s expression was very careful in its mirth, “Would it make you feel better to shoot me?”

“It might,” Lilah bit out.

He chuckled and squared his shoulders, as if in invitation. Lilah was sorely tempted to follow through on her threat. When were they going to stop lying to each other? When were they going to play on the same team?

Brasa watched her working to calm herself in silence until Lilah let out a huge, ugly breath. He tugged absently at his gloves, saying, “I’m sorry. Its why I tried to keep the book from her. I was the one who performed the ritual before and even I struggled to remember it in its entirety. Fortunately for us, her memories are clouded by the strength of her vessel. Without the book, she’ll never be able to open the door.”

Lilah’s lip curled, “That doesn’t mean she won’t try.” She stomped up to him, got right up into his face, and said, “Did you really think that not knowing the details would have stopped her?”

His voice was very small, “I hoped.”

“You can’t risk your life on hope, Brasa.” Lilah’s words were rough and she could hear the way they were soaked in disdain. She knew he wasn’t a stupid person, knew that he could rationalize and that he could reason. Brasa was well aware of who and what Amaru was. Hoping that she would just give up was so incredibly naive that it left her at a loss.

He touched her cheek. The leather was warm and soft against her skin. Warm, soft, and familiar. Lilah leaned into his hand and closed her eyes, feeling some of the anger dissipate. She opened them again when Brasa gathered her close and rested his chin against her temple. The heat of his body, always so much warmer than the air around her, eased the tension of her body. Lilah let out another long breath and finally gave in to the urge to wrap her arms around his waist and hold on.

“You look good in my shirt.” The words rumbled in his chest and she could hear the appreciation in this tone.

“Shut up,” Lilah shot back even though she was laughing a little.

“I will not,” Brasa replied, with humor. “You do look good.”

She rolled her eyes, “Thank you.” Lilah pulled away and tilted her head back to look up at him, “You look good, too. Healed.”

His eyes darted to the side briefly, “That...was not my finest moment.”

Lilah nodded, “She had no right to do that.”

Brasa shrugged, “Its not the first time.”

Another wave of anger rolled over her. Lilah very nearly asked ‘how many times’, but she didn’t need the answer to that question. Instead, she changed the subject, “I know you want me to come back, but I need to do a few things first.”

“What things?”

“Like I said, there are relics she needs to complete the ritual. I’m going to track them down.”

His eyes glittered and his voice took on a cajoling tone, “Are you sure you’re not just missing work?”

“Oh, this isn’t work. Work means that I’ll get paid. This is preventing an apocalypse. Totally pro bono.”

“You don’t have to stay here to steal a few relics.”

Lilah smiled, “I won’t really be staying here much. I would be surprised if any of them were within a five hundred mile radius.” Brasa looked immediately uncomfortable with the idea of her traveling. She felt moved to comfort him, “I’ll get them as quickly as I can.”

“What will you do with them after you track them down?”

“Destroy them. Make sure she can’t do the ritual, even if she gets the book.”

“And, after that?”

She hesitated. Lilah hadn’t thought that much further ahead. All the turmoil of learning about how Amaru was going to open the door and all the determination it took to figure out how to stop her took up most of Lilah’s attention. “I think we’ll have to kill her. I don’t know any other way to truly stop what she’s trying to do if she’s still...alive.”

“You might be right.” From somewhere above, there came a growl. Brasa glanced up and frowned, “I think I’ve overstayed my welcome.”

Lilah nodded and moved to let him go, pausing when Brasa’s arms kept her close. He leaned down and dropped a slow kiss to her mouth. The kiss was just long enough to tempt her and short enough to leave her wanting—which, she supposed, was the point. Brasa loosed his hold on her and said, “I’ll be checking in.”

“In real life,” she replied, “or in some kind of weird shared dream?”

His brows lifted with both surprise and mirth. “I wasn’t sure it would actually happen,” he explained, “since you’re human.”

Lilah held up a finger, “Almost human.”

Brasa acknowledged her assertion with a dip of his chin, “I’ve heard its common when bondmates are separated.”

Lilah shrugged, “I guess I’ll add it to the list of odd relationship quirks.”

His mouth lifted in a teasing smile, “Maybe next time you can show me the dress you bought.”

Lilah felt her face warm and she offered him a sly, “Maybe.”

Brasa laughed soundlessly and turned to get back in the car. He opened the door to the backseat and sent her one last, long look before dropping inside. Lilah watched the SUV speed away until the taillights were dim in the distance.

A soft thud came from her right and Richie appeared in her periphery, “So, he actually wasn’t here to kills us. Go figure.”

[chairteeth]

Taking a closer look at memoriae

As per blog brand, this is about TouNemu again. I'm gonna be analyzing and pointing out a handful of things about Touka and Nemu's personal memoriae as well as their flower field memoriae. I ended up going on a biiiit of a ramble about the hospital trauma again which makes the Touka section look longer than it is, since the hospital trauma applies to both. Welp, enjoy!

The only memoriae of theirs where they aren't together are their personals, the obligatory flower fields, and one on each side which had reasons outside of their control that kept them apart, btw. Which is just. Yeah, talk about being joined at the hip. I won't be doing the dual unit's personal because it's kinda bland honestly? As in the text doesn't really give us much to talk about or even gush about, it's just a literal description of what happens in Christmas String. I will however note that it features a book (diary) like Nemu's personal, but has the exact effect of Touka's personal. We will also be looking at both NA translations and fan translations of memo descriptions for picking apart purposes (and because I do not trust NA whatsoever).

SO! A Freedom for Just Me (NA: My Own Freedom) is Touka's personal memoria and the description reads as follows

The earth orbits the sun? That's a lie. The world is a big place? That's a lie. Seeing it on TV, on the internet, how can you be so sure? The only things I know are true? That the starry sky, and the things around me keep spinning. (NA)

It's a lie that the earth orbits the sun. It's a lie that the world is this big. I don't know if what I see on TV or the internet is true, but the starry sky is spinning. It revolves around me. This is the only thing that's true.

NA chose a very funny way of translating that last thing and I think it makes more sense if you take the JP version, because well the sky and things in it do "move" from our perspective (we are the ones moving mostly but shh). Nitpicking aside, let me dig into This Thing.

Firstly the image itself is VERY indicative of how Touka feels. Hospital bed, with an IV included, the night sky, and that dome thing that looks an awful lot like a cage. Yk like the ones she also has everywhere in her room! The title of the memoria is also very telling, and I think people often forget just how tightly tied Touka is to the idea of freedom and the feeling of being trapped (in a gilded cage but a cage nonetheless). This is part of why she doesn't usually listen to others, too. Let me take a look at the visual elements before the text, it'll tie together nicely.

Going element by element... There's the hospital bed and IV. That's a very specific combination, and part of the "cage" Touka feels trapped in, the IVs like chains on her body. Her illness has probably had her bedridden and hooked up to a bunch of machinery before, we saw a glimpse of that sort of thing from Ui in the anime. And really what else to do but to look up to the sky and envy the stars, who are free and bright and real? Something you can see.

There's this whole thing about being an inpatient at a hospital, especially a child, that I've mentioned but have never really elaborated on I think, which is the part where things stop feeling real and you yourself stop feeling real, stop feeling like a person. I've heard about it from child inpatients when volunteering at hospitals and it can be a little complicated to understand for people who've never been in a similar situation. I'm not sure how familiar other folks are with the routine of a child inpatient, because that's a big part of what causes this. The hospital trio have mentioned it offhandedly before (I believe it was Ui who may have mentioned it while they were making Sakurako?) but:

It's grueling for the mind of a child to live in a place that is so... white, largely impersonal, you're never really always tended to as children need to be (the nurses will do their best but there is only so much you can do), you often aren't allowed to go outside or do a lot of the things you want to do, even inside, plus dietary restrictions can lead to Not Great relationships with food (or apathy towards it) whether during the extended hospital stay or after. The routine is also No Good Very Bad for them because while routine is helpful for mental development in a way, the "rules" and routines established at home still leave room for variety in a child's day, and normally they're always learning new things and gathering new experiences. The learning new things does apply to Ui, however not so much to Touka and Nemu, and the new experiences gathered are. Um. Well. None, for the most part, because that's kinda the point of a hospital—to be a controlled environment, for the safety of the patients. But really, when they say their routine is something along the lines of "wake up, maybe go to school (the hospital class) if you feel well enough, go to bed"... they mean it. They do nothing else. And not all kids are lucky enough to be in a hospital that prepares special events or activities for them, and even then sometimes those are not enough. They can't replace freedom.

There's a special kind of boredom and seclusion that sets in after a while. You need to understand, these are children. Not even teenager-children, children (for however long they were hospitalized, which is implied to have been a long time, at minimum three years if the anime is accurate to that, but I believe they were there even longer than that solely based on context clues). Kids are not adults. Kids do not have the experience that adults or even teens do. Kids don't know the world around them yet. It can get to a point where they don't even remember anything before the hospital, and see, that becomes really surreal really fast. I'm not sure how to explain this part but the child very easily can start to feel completely disconnected from "the outside" and their world becomes very very tiny. This is also done in part to protect themselves, because it hurts. It hurts a lot to know you're not allowed to do and experience so many things, while every other kid is, especially if you're terminal and are convinced you won't get better. It is implied that at least Touka and Nemu were of that school of thought, which is not great. So it's common, especially for neurodivergent kids (like TouNemu), to dissociate HEAVILY. The amount of sensory deprivation and understimulation in hospitals is insane. You see how Nemu in her quotes is constantly talking about taking in the sounds and colors? Yeah, this is why. Touka does much of the same, but doesn't directly talk about it. Now add onto the mental and sensory stimulation issues the fact that these two are child prodigies and you have yourself a recipe for Way Way Worse Than Usual! That's why the internet isn't quite enough. Because while adults and non-inpatients have the experience and firsthand knowledge of the world around them, these kids don't. So even if you read article after article and watch video after video, all they are to you is 1s and 0s. Text/images on a screen. Not real. Touka states it almost explicitly, and Nemu… well I could go on about the usage of literature to cope. It's not your world, you don't recognize it as yours (resentment goes brrr).

ANYWAY back to the Touka personal! So, Touka feels chained to that bed. Next up is a related element! That dome thingy above the bed. A lot like a cage, I'd say it looks a lot like the upper half of a hanging birdcage with the... thing you hang it from removed.

With the perch being the bed. This really is the exact same type of cage she has in her room... and we're talking about a character with a bird doppel... SPEAKING of birds, these kinds of cages are proven to be absolutely terrible for them (any cage that is too small for an animal is absolutely terrible for them), due to how cramped they are (notice Touka also calls her world narrow and cramped). If a bird was never let out of its cage and grew up for years inside that cage... well assuming the hypothetical bird has the mental capacity of the child we're talking about, its outlook would not be much different from Touka's. It may also represent the hospital as a controlled environment. Those who are "bigger" and "know better" control what's inside the cage, what happens to the being held inside, and care for the being's basic needs (this can also relate to diet things). Much like child inpatients, the mental stimulation of pet birds is often ignored, whether because the owner doesn't care or because they're ignorant.

Then, lastly, the night sky and a shooting star/comet (I'm gonna assume it's a comet?). The sky is universal, everywhere in the world anyone can look up and we all see the same sky. For a kid in Touka's position, the night sky can feel much closer and more real than any other thing beyond the white walls. Filled with glittering jewels that turn out to be not only pretty but fascinating, with incredibly variety and mounting complexity the more you look into the field, and constellations, asterisms, comets, odd stars and planets, long etcetera. The cosmos is an infinite expanse, the gift that keeps on giving, it gives and it gives without end, and it never takes, never asks for anything, never states a price beyond Touka's time (which, arguably, is one's most precious gift to give, yes something something the amount of time TouNemu spend together). In this way, outer space is similar to Nemu in Touka's eyes (she connects these dots way later down the line, even later than she connects the "oh, space to me is what literature/writing is to Nemu" dots). You can see why Touka may become hyperattached to the whole outer space thing and why it may mean so much to her (possible autistic special interests aside).

The girl was withering away, feeling like life was not worth the pain and suffering she had to endure from her illness and the consequences of it (such as the inpatient status), and the stars gave her something to reach for, something tangible, something she could know and know for good. It doesn't change too fast to keep up with, it doesn't feel like it will ever leave her behind, it doesn't take anything from her, and it's ever-present. The text corroborates my words, essentially, so I don't think I have to go into how the text applies to Touka. The starry sky is all around her, and she knows it well. Like a mantle of comfort and reassurance. I don't think I have to spell out why Touka is so linked to freedom and why she values it so much, do I? Also the part about defying authority and being all, unyieldy about things.

Anyway we are going to do Touka's flower field memoria next, then we'll go for Nemu's personal and flower field. I'm not even gonna use the NA title for this one, because the JP one is better: A Longing for the Beyond.

The end of the universe brings the dark and vast eternal world of time to my tiny little cramped world. The end of the universe also creates the flow of time. I don't care if my brain cells overheat, I want to know everything. I will cherish what I learn, and it will make me a kinder person. (NA)

“My small and narrow world and the dark and long eternity of time. It is the end of space that has expanded the world. It's the end of the sky who made time flow by. I don't care if my brain cells overheat, I want to know everything. It will become a nice possession for me. That’s how I can become kind.”

So okay this one, being a flower field memoria, does not have much to it visually, however the title and text are interesting. The part about longing, I think I've covered somewhat in the previous memoria's analysis. Plus Touka and Nemu are both INCREDIBLY yearny. They pine and long and yearn so much, largely because they have so much love to give, they love so intensely and that is often a feature of those who have been deprived of something they desperately needed/craved for a good chunk of their childhoods. But we will discuss that AT LENGTH with Nemu's personal don't you worry. I have covered a good amount of the text for this one honestly (I am pointing at Touka calling her world tiny and cramped and referring to the cosmos as the thing that widened her horizons and expanded her perception of reality, it's vital to have anchors to prevent severe episodes of dissociation), so let me hone in on two-three things.

"I don't care if my brain cells overheat, I want to know everything."

This line can be easily glossed over as oh Touka's doing the sciency word thing again, but Hey, Let The Child Express Herself And Listen. This is part of the very foundation of what I refer to as her gladiator behavior. Yk every time she and Nemu show dangerous levels of curiosity and fascination with things, and that curiosity alone is enough for them to take on impossible challenges regardless of risk, for no real reward (or no guaranteed one) besides victory? Yep, that goes all the way back to this, and there is a root to that behavior, that attitude. It's a little like living your entire life with clipped wings, and then one day, something (the stars in this case) changes your life completely. You're able to glide and fly for the first time since you can remember. It's only natural that you'd want to fly higher and higher, experience more of that no matter how many times you fall or how bad the bruise is. If you frame it a certain way, it's the tale of Icarus all over again. Wiiiiith the difference being that Touka was better at wing construction and she blew up her wings on purpose to successfully propel herself to the stars (Chapter 8 my fucking beloved). Her ego kind of connects to this in a certain way too. Since, well, she connects more to the night sky, above everything on the ground. She stands closest to the stars, therefore on a pillar raised above the rest. This is only a very small part of the ego topic though, it has many contributing factors. Also have you ever noticed that Nemu is just like the night, just like the stars. Quiet, subtle, with its complexity glossed over by the average person until you take the time and care to look closer- cough.

The part about cherishing what she learns is also very true for Touka, you'll notice she greatly values knowledge as well as learning, but see how the JP refers to it as a possession. I feel like that applies to space specifically and how deeply important and personal her bond with it was back when she was younger. As we saw in her quotes, she's much more willing to share now than she used to be, which is a sign of growth (also the fact that Nemu of all people, who hates and feels guilty for asking basically anything, feels confident and sure enough to casually ask Touka about something like space that used to be a landmine back in the hospital… Also Has Meaning, but I am trying not to gush too much here). And now I'm trying to figure out how to tackle the last line about becoming kind. I think I should fetch something I said on Discord while going through TouNemu content in my brainrot containment zone:

And then I said:

she's trying, she wants to help, she wants to be good. There are multiple reasons she thinks she can't though

really Touka's thing with kindness reminds me of this one episode of Supernanny where one of the little boys in the household was super troublesome and had ADHD, and after a tantrum he ran off to his bedroom and curled up on his bed. Supernanny Jo Frost very softly asked him if she could come in, and if she could come closer/sit on his bed, comforted him a little, and asked him about if he wanted to be good. The poor little boy nodded and kept saying he wants to be good with a shaky voice while sobbing, and you could just tell that he was trying his best but didn't feel he could be good

Touka wants to be kind. She wants to be nice. She just doesn't know how and believes that because it doesn't come in her "how to human" manual, she can't. She thinks if she keeps learning, if she keeps hoarding more and more knowledge, then eventually, surely, she'll figure out how to be kind.

... I talked so much about the personal memo that I don't have as much to say for this one- unless I talk about TouNemu and possessiveness that is. Because they do have a fun possessive streak! Over both things and people! But I will do that another day. For now, onto Nemu's personal memoria and flower field memoria!

An Unobtainable Thing (NA: Beyond My Reach) is hella depressing to talk about so buckle up! I spent a while picking at the JP translation. Description reads as follows:

What was I hoping for? What did I want? A newly released novel? An out-of-print book that sounded interesting? New clothes for a change of image? No, no, no. Those are all wrong. I just want to be told I'm loved. It's so close and yet so far. That is all I want. (NA)

What was it that I was looking for? What did I want? A novel that had just been released? An out-of-print book I was really interested in? New clothes to change my image? No, no, no, none of the above. I just want to hear the words that love me, the closest and farthest. That's all I want.

Nemu is more self aware than Touka is. Despite the fact that she suppresses that and her own feelings as hard as humanly possible which leads to… all of her no good very bad thought patterns basically. The visual elements of this memoria are a bit harder to pin down than Touka's because there's just, More Stuff In It™️ in terms of objects. I feel like the text here is much easier to go through than the visuals? But the visuals do a good job supporting the text anyway. Surrounded by piles upon piles of books, there's a notebook I assume for writing or notes, and the ground below is also written on. I'm not sure what the closed and piled vs open and laid out books could mean. Then there's the folded pajamas (basically hospital clothes) and the two figures in the distance, one taller one shorter, which you can assume are meant to be Nemu and her mom, or worse, Nemu's mom and brother. Which is depressing! You can interpret this as Nemu really really hoping her mom would take her back home, or you can interpret the clothes as the thing that represents herself and the piled books as a sort of fortress or shelter, while the two figures inevitably walk away and she is unable to reach them (seriously those piled books look an AWFUL LOT like a fortress, something something defense mechanism). As somebody else in my Discord containment zone said, the clothes, the books, etc are the things that Nemu does have, things she can acquire, while the thing she really wants, that being her family, are so far away as to be unreachable. The writing on the ground leads into the distance toward them, perhaps symbolizing her writing as her reaching out to what she really wants in the only way she knows how. Not to mention that the light shining through the clouds illuminating them from the background gives it a heavenly quality, pointing to her awareness that she will not live much longer and that the love she craves is what she believes is heaven.

As for the text though, I've gone on and on endlessly about Nemu's severe issues but honestly her personal memo is very blatant about the core of the problem, that being… that she just wants to be loved. It's that simple. Which I think really is the reason she agrees to go kaboom with Touka despite all of her talk of leaving a legacy and explicitly saying she doesn't want people to forget her. Since love is deep down all she's ever truly wanted (not wanting people to forget her, wanting to leave a mark, etc, are all things that in her case stem from not feeling loved)… well, once she sees that she finally has that, she doesn't really care about everything else that much.

The more enigmatic one might be the flower field memoria ngl because that one is weird for multiple reasons. Nemu, oddly enough, talks about her heart like three times or more throughout all of the content she appears in, which isn't much but it's odd that she's done it that many times. Like the religious undertones, I'd like to figure out what exactly she means by "my heart" but I think she just means her mind.

See Nemu's flower field memoria is Peace to this Battered, Dead Land (NA: Tranquility in a Wasteland), and it's already odd because it's the only flower field where it's nighttime and also the only one where we see "direct magic" being used? Iirc at least. The second thing isn't that weird but the first feels weirdly deliberate to me and I've been wondering about it for a long time.

Dramatically, it reads like this:

"Through written sentences, an interwoven world, or filled-in spaces, heartfelt stories flow quietly, gently, peacefully, and sometimes wild and frenetic, into the cracked earth of the wasteland, gradually filling up in a transient pool, to then become unique. If even one thread has a color, my heart will be at peace." (NA)

Let's write sentences, let's weave a world, and if the gaps are filled, the story will flow. Quietly, slowly, calmly, sometimes violently and madly, the story filled with emotions flows through the cracks in the dry land, gradually filling them and providing a tentative moisture. After that, all you have to do is get your personality. If you could give me even just one thread of color, my heart would be calm.

This one is very very fucked up if you consider one of the ways to interpret it. It's a metaphor for herself. She's the dry land. The cracks are the areas of herself that are "broken" or "damaged" (haha trauma), the hurt. She refers to her own life as a story in Arc 1 too, so this isn't a stretch. You can interpret this optimistically or pessimistically. The optimistic approach says that she's healing, the pessimistic approach says that she's essentially forcing things in there to appear put together and not be seen as problematic, bothersome, damaged goods, etc. It could even be both! It's interesting that it mentions quiet/slow/calm/gentle/peaceful and then also wild/frenetic/violent/mad, which I feel may be showing two sides of her (the calm Nemu we normally see and The Part Deep Down That Is Really Angry And Would Like To Go Apeshit). I mean there are many reasons that the way I portray Nemu in AUs can sometimes (often) be violent. I have the sadism from canon and more than enough evidence to argue repressed feelings, which, even if the feeling she's repressing isn't anger (which by all means it would be, other than sorrow and pain ofc), repressing it would lead to frustration which easily leads into anger. I think she has these issues in canon too, she just managed to not explode. Well, metaphorically.

Anyway so, where do I begin with Nemu's boatload of issues that these two memoriae just kinda graze lightly... I've talked a lot about it but usually if you look it is very possible that you will find More, which I'm sure is great for Nemu's self aware introspective philosophical author brain /s. However, a LOT of what I've said about Touka regarding a hospital stay applies to Nemu as well, and in some senses even more so, since Nemu is the type to overthink things when she's by herself (Touka also overthinks but in a different way, and she normally doesn't think about People™. Normally) but it might be interesting to dig into the early Ui era for this. By early Ui I mean after TouNemu met Ui but before they came to share a room and usually before the Christmas party (yk the one). The room sharing may have simply been a princess whim for Touka, but for Nemu, it may just have been life-saving. Or to be less dramatic, sanity-saving. Sort of. Because she's even said it before that she felt lonely. Imagine how much worse the isolation had been for her in a solo room. Heck one of my headcanons (based on her comments about and appreciation of "lively" people and places) is that she Does Not Like complete silence, or at least not when she's not very close to someone, which by definition can never be complete silence because you Will hear their breathing, them being alive and doing things usually, all that.

I said nurses try their best to take care of child inpatients. But nurses, even those who specialize in kids, have a lot on their plate. And the kids that take priority are the smallest ones. And also well usually they cannot really account for everything. Plus, in Japan I get the feeling things may not be as… warm if that makes sense. That is to say I would like to know when was the last time early Ui era Nemu got a hug. It may sound silly, but physical affection is actually really really important to children's development and can be particularly good at soothing them emotionally, similarly to adults but magnified.

However Nemu has this very funny habit (/s) of suppressing her emotions and not ever telling anyone when she feels hurt or lonely or anything of the sort unless she is confronted on it or absolutely has to. So there would have been no comforting chats with nurses nor any sort of tactile comfort (yes tactile comfort is a thing). Great going Nemu. If Nemu fell into a well she would wait there and not call for help so as to not inconvenience anyone else, it's That Bad. Will to live? What's that? (She even mentions the lack of a will to live when they're making Sakurako in the hospital and you can just see Iroha going D: about it). This is a common problem in hospital inpatients, particularly children, and it is rather disturbing/sad actually to hear a child placing so little value in their own life and even less worth in themselves as a person. I just have to point at Nemu's quotes and how often she's like "are you Sure you want to talk to me…?" "I'm boring, don't waste your precious time on me" etc. G i r l... So really I imagine the only highlight in early Ui era Nemu's day was literally Ui and Touka, and with her being a night owl and chronic overthinker, I cannot imagine the excruciating agony of everything after lights out. Yk. After lights out. When everything is dark and you are Completely Alone in your room.

Anyway Nemu is severely touch starved and affection starved please give her a hug. Touka that is your job. Oh though I guess they do hold hands quite a lot? But. Hug. Big close long hug. Nemu may or may not bawl if hugged that way and spoken to softly with loving words of affirmation. Gay babies.

[otomehoneyybearr]

Act 12

Episode 36: The What-If Future and The Certain Now: Citron

Working w/ Maybelle Lace, jujumin-translates, Fea

Note: As you read, you will see that some sentences highlighted in a different color, this is what they indicate.

Pink: Flashback

Blue: Characters are acting

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Mother:《...Thus, the wise king made the country prosperous. Throughout the rest of his life, he devoted himself to the happiness of the people of Zahra.》

Mother:《And everyone lived happily ever after.》

Child:《The king is amazing.》

Mother:《You really like this picture book.》

Child:《Yup! I really like it!》

Mother:《The previous king was a truly wonderful person. Strong, smart, beautiful, and a true lover of the arts...》

Mother:《He listened carefully to the voices of the people and helped implement national politics. He was a person who was loved by all his people.》

Mother:《It is precisely because of the era of that king that the people of Zahra are able to live a prosperous life today.》

Child:《I wish I could have met King Citronia.》

Hisoka: ...Citron. Citron.

Citron: Hm?

Hisoka: ...It's almost time to open.

Citron: Is it time for that already? Allow me to help you!

Citron:《There aren't any guests coming tonight. Is business doing okay?》

Guy:《Mondays are always like this.》

Guy:《Well,  it allows us to have free time today. It was the right decision to send Mikage back early.》

Citron:《Since I have no choice, I suppose I'll be your guest.》

Guy: What do you want to drink?

Citron: Gimlet.

Guy: ...Now that I think about it, were you thinking about something just now?

Citron: I was thinking about Izumi’s housework.

Guy: To set the table?

Citron: The homework. Stupid Guy.

Guy: ...

Guy:《What is the hypothetical future for you...?》

Citron:《Of course, I'd live the rest of my life as King.》

Citron:《From an early age, I was raised solely to become King. For that purpose, the ideas, knowledge, manners, and imperial studies needed to rule were instilled into me.》

Citron:《In the future, I was to serve the country and the people...》

Citron:《...Even though we are members of the royal family, why do we keep fighting each other despite our blood relations?》

King of Zahra:《Be a good king, Citronia.》

King of Zahra:《The king is a lonesome figure, and even if he has blood-related family members, his position and responsibilities cannot be shared. There are times when I am envied unconditionally.》

King of Zahra:《Even vassals who believed their blood relatives would be loyal to them sometimes betrayed them.》

King of Zahra:《Even though I am doubtful about who I should believe, I have no choice but to believe in my own path and move forward.》

King of Zahra:《That's the nature of a lonely king.》

Citron:《So Father has also lived that way.》

King of Zahra:《That's right... When you're worried and feel like stopping, remember this. The people that believe in this country are your family.》

Citron:《And you protect your family, right?》

Citron:《Therefore it is the mission of a powerful king to protect his beloved people.》

Citron:《My father taught me that happiness lies in becoming a fine king, and having that title be passed down from parent to child, from child to grandchild, and to future generations.》

Citron:《But that's just my father's idea of it.》

Citron:《As a member of the royal family, I still consider the people of Zahra like family, but I would rather entertain my family than protect them. I want to make them smile.》

Citron:《I feel truly blessed that my father, whether or not he knew my true feelings, appointed me as Minister of International Arts and Culture.》

Citron: (And I... I met a more loving and precious family than the Zahran people.)

Sakuya: Citron... I need to know... Why did you leave without saying anything?

Sakuya: I wanted to be on stage with you again... I... Ungh, hic...

Tsuzuru: You can't just disappear on us like that.

Masumi: Yeah. Don't copy me.

Itaru: Do you have any idea how hard it was to get here?

Chikage: I'M the one who did most of the work, you know.

Citron: ...I am sorry.

Sakuya: There were so many things I wanted to ask you... wanted to say to you... but I can't remember any of them right now.

Sakuya: I'm too happy that I get to see you again...

Citron: I am happy to see all of you, too. I did not think I ever would again.

Citron: I am really sorry for causing you all that trouble. I did not think I could ever come back.

Citron: It was so lonely in Zahra thinking about everyone and my time here.

Citron: I was very surprised when I saw the Winter Troupe perform. But I thought, I want to be up there on stage, too.

Citron: I knew my duty was to become king, but I could not stop my feelings.

Citron: I want to always be acting with you all! I am so glad to be back!

Tsuzuru: And we're glad to have you back.

Itaru: No more just up and disappearing.

Chikage: It'll be good to act with you again.

Masumi: Yeah.

Sakuya: Now we can fulfill the final wish on your scroll as many times as you want!

Citron: Many, many thanks!

Citron: (A special family called Spring Troupe of MANKAI Company.)

Citron: (Even though we are not related by blood, being able to meet a family that I would love to protect more than anyone else was definitely the "spring" of my life.)

Citron: (At that point, I wasn't the King of Zahra's vessel.)

Citron: (I want to continue to entertain and protect the Spring Troupe as well as holding my troupe members together closely as a family.)

Citron: (And I will never let my beloved brother Tangerine, who allowed me to choose such a happy life, become a lonely king.)

Citron: (And even though I thought I was lonely, Guy was always by my side...)

Guy: Come to think of it, this came for you too.

Citron: ?

Guy: A postcard from Sakuma.

Sakuya: "How are you?"

Sakuya: "It's been a long time since I've been so far away from Citron since we always sleep in the same room together.''

Sakuya: "Until now, every night we would talk about what happened that day, and I'd listen to Citron's adventures and Zahra's interesting stories.''

Sakuya: "I feel sad that I don't have nights like that right now. I have so many things I want to talk about with you.''

Citron: (I also miss you, Sakuya... I want to meet and talk with you right now.)

Citron: (I was really happy to be in the same room as Sakuya in the MANKAI dormitory.)

Sakuya: "Right now, I'm at the place where I was born and raised. I wish I could convey how I feel right now to Citron through photos.''

Citron: Photo...

Citron: (This is the place where Sakuya was born and raised...)

Citron: (Sakuya has come to my hometown of Zahra many times. He has told me that the scenery of Zahra, where I was born and raised, is beautiful.)

Citron: (During the Zahra training camp, he went out of his way to study the Zahra language and even gave a speech in front of the superiors and the minister.)

Sakuya:《I love Zahra. The country is so warm and welcoming towards us.》

Sakuya:《I also would like to extend my gratitude and appreciation to Citron and Guy for introducing me to this beautiful country and for their kindness.》

Sakuya:《I would like nothing more than to continue to act alongside them as long as possible.》

Sakuya:《Mankai needs them both.》

Citron: ——.

Citron: (I want to go and see this beautiful scenery of Sakuya's hometown in person.)

Citron: ...When I think about it, you're like a fox.

Guy: A pair of socks?

Citron: You really are quite stupid. Since I decided on it, I'll give a call—

Citron: ?

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

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[inexchangeforyoursoul]

time for some actual blogging bc why not

So anyway, I read that gay Chinese zombie book. I have not read an actual book since forever and was doomed, when originally writing this, to wait out the arrival of the rest of the series that I've promptly ordered, and you know what? Let's write a review is what.

For the dry tl;dr we are talking about a strong 8.5 for the first volume, and even that is because of display A, me not being interested in 80% of the school flashback chapter, and display B, the kajillions of similar names that get spiced up with the 2-4 fancy titles of the big shots which get used interchangeably as per demand. Not my demands, but probably good manners' which I'm a stranger to. The short bios of people in the front are a blessing if you want to follow who's who early on; obviously, I didn't savor it as if it was some holy scripture, but for the first chapter you also don't even need it.

Speaking of content, this was not something I expected with my main previous information source being random osmosis via internet. In fact, all I knew is that a main character comes back from the dead, there's other dead people, everyone is wearing pretty much traditional clothes and it's allegedly some good gay shit.

But this wasn't much of a preparation. See, that info was out of context mumbo-jumbo, much like what I'm trying to tap together right now to avoid spoilers. This isn't a fantasyfied period piece or a love story despite one of the main characters working a whole ass pine plantation. (Wonder how long it will take Wei Wuxian till the yuan drops, really. Current gayness rating is 3/10 btw as apart from his body having belonged to an outed twenty-something year old and him playing it up for either giggles or strategy, there's not much else to it.) What I'm trying to say is that man, when I bought the paperback seeing it was 50% off for roughly 5 'Murrican bucks I certainly wasn't expecting a supernatural action detective story with an enjoyable cast and a cliffhanger I wanted to punch a wall over. Color me intrigued. But there's another point I'd like to make.

The point being that the book is funny as hell. Of course this doesn't say much as my sense of humor is pretty niche, but I digress.

Wei Wuxian is a feral gremlin. A very professional and kind-hearted one, but a menace nonetheless. The number of times he's willingly done something irresponsible or stupid followed by regret .5 seconds later is on par with the number typos I've found in my translation. Which isn't a whole whole lot, but it's weird it happened as many times as it did. I'd ask how he's still alive, but, y'know…

The straight man to his antics (lol), Lan Wangji, is usually as interesting as a freshly whitened wall but when he isn't he's amazing. Also has the best scene in the whole volume, hands down. I was reassured there's more of the same to come and I'm filled with giddy anticipation because it had me thriving.

The Lan boys are sweethearts, I hope they'll stick around. They have their own little shenanigans and even if you aren't big on them you'll still look forward to their unexpected appearances once you realize that they are an indicator of shit hitting the whirling device and whipping up a whole entire storm in the very foreseeable future.

Wuxian's uh… nephew? I think it's his nephew. (He's called Jin Ling. I recognize it already, but haven't memorized it yet.) He is very punchable but obviously also a kid and I'm starting to worry for him, man. Either way, he has a demonic hellhound. Name's Fairy. Nuff said.

Then this new Xiao dude is fascinating me for a number of reasons, but even if he wasn't he had the funniest line in the book about 5 pages before things became wild and I was slapped across space-time and jail bars on the face with a to be continued.

The fact that this is a longer story that allows you to dwell on and theorize about stuff is also something I greatly appreciate as a One Piece and Homestuck fan. Theory crafting for an ongoing series is half of the fun, really!! (Ok, it's not ongoing, but I'm forced to treat it as such.) How will we get rid of Wen Ning's shackles? What even is he like when conscious? How long will it take for people other than Wei Wuxian's contemporaries to realize who he is? Will he drop the act himself seeing it's only a question of time until the info spreads? How close is Jin Ling to realizing that his uncle was right? Will he turn on Wuxian entirely or is he invested enough to stick around? Will he turn out to be a respectable cultivator later or be sacrificed for an especially tragic plot twist? What about Wei Wuxian's chances of survival in his current position? For that matter, will all the Lan boys live till the very end? Was the blind man pulling the strings all along or was he tricked into the murder and turned to the forbidden arts in desperation?? Are we fighting for our very lives or merely being tested right now?! Either way, the overpowered zombie talisman is nearby, the plot thickens!!!

So much to think about, I love it!

And although the whys and hows of the logistics are a total question mark, since about halfway through the volume, I have been about 80% convinced of who the unalive person we're on a quest to reassemble is. It's low-key worrying for a number of reasons, but whatever. But this is just a theory. A literary theory.

…

The next volumes can't arrive soon enough, man. (Before I posted this, they already did. Brb I need to rehydrate.)

[tnc-n3cl]

You're welcome!

Water itchy LOL! So one thing I have in my fic is that Hylians can imitate the sounds of Rito language (like how people can mimic bird calls), but doing so is really rude (cause you really have no idea what you're saying). People who spend a lot of time around Rito can get the gist of what they're talking about.

Random thoughts

Body language might play a role in their language, particularly little head tilts or feather movements.

Rito will punctuate statements with a quick snap of their beaks, which can mean a rude or upset tone. (Depending on how loud it is, etc.)

Rito Warriors will make short calls to coordinate attacks to avoid monsters catching on to what they're saying. For example, in an unpublished fic I have a Rito shout out "Orange – Breast – Left – Market". "Orange Breast" refers to one of the warriors, who's the same Tribe as Saki and has an orange breast patch, while "Left Market" is telling him to take the left side of the marketplace.

In this same fic there's an example of non-verbal communication, as the warrior from before signals to her group to attack in unison by folding and fanning out her tail feathers a few times.

The Rito probably have a bunch of words for snow.

For funzies, I figure the Rito adopted/adjusted the version of Hylian script used in the Wind Waker.

Kass is the Loresinger, traditionally the keeper of the Rito's History, the role has expanded since the widespread adoption of books, so now Loresingers will often take up historian/archaeologist roles researching topics of their interest. (The title was inspired by some NPC's on Qo'nos in Star Trek Online. The Rito keep/kept an oral history in the form of songs. The little pendant/broach Kass wears is his badge of office.)

Some specific words I made up

Skirisha (ski-re-sha): A specific shade of ultraviolet blue.

Ryski (Rye-ski): A specific classification of Warrior, loosely translated to "scout". Specialize in stealth fighting, scouting, skirmishing. You see a lot of owl-like Rito (Bubo Tribe) Ryski Warriors.

Karikos (Ka-re-kos): The reverse of the Ryski, more heavily armored warriors. Erroneously translated to "footsolider", they're closer to knights, or maybe cavalry considering their mobility. Usually either used as bait to draw monsters out of hiding or to block off escape routes with a shield wall. Possibly also rescue units to fight off monsters so injured warriors can be brought to safety. [Torikirika has abandoned Ryski and Karikos by BotW times.]

Kirikaros (key-re-ka-rose): Markings on Rito beaks that are only visible in ultraviolet. Can be used as a rough indicator of age and health (brighter = younger/healthier). Can also be used to indicate relation to other individuals, for example, Kass and his sister Kalia both have lines on the tops of their beaks running from base to hook with two stripes on the sides of their beaks running from the top line to where the mandibles meet. The lines on the side of Kalia's beak are a little further apart than Kass'. [I shot myself in the foot a bit with this, I am running out of line combinations, lol.]

Kinsin: A traditional Rito stew made with meat (usually venison) and vegetables. Usually contains organ meat as well. (I have posted with the idea that Rito can digest bone like bearded vultures do [to recycle an idea from an original universe project] and so Kinsin has little carfully sliced bits of bone in it, but I'm honestly thinking of going back and editing that out.)

Delrin: Another Rito dish, basically roasted duck.

Telkisro (Tell-kiss-row): A meal cooked with the bounty of the first hunt of spring. Typically made from some large game animal, there's a whole ceremony and everything. Randomly selected individual cooks for the whole village.

Tekiso (Te-key-so): A duel used to settle disputes. Different variations exist based on weapon preference, but there's an archery version with blunted arrows (like a bomb arrow but with no explosive, or I guess kinda like a tennis ball stuck on the end). Participants wear long colorful scarves and ribbons/banners tied to their legs so spectators can track them better (arrows also have colored strings tied to them). (These same arrows are used in sparing, but typically with less powerful bows, here they're using full strength bows. And the goal is to inflict enough pain on your opponent that they coincide defeat.) It's an ancient practice only used in extreme conditions.

Viskin: A Rito religious sect that more or less worships dragons. Warriors will have dragon symbols engraved on their armor, and every member has a little dragon idol in their home. (Huck and Nekk are Viskin members and used to to fly out to Tanagar Canyon to fly alongside Dinraal until Vah Medoh showed up.)

Okay so I just saw your response to @vanali-of-winterfell 's essay on your fic, and while I only skimmed it to focus on the language bit. OMG I love it!

I gave the Rito their own language in my fic but I didn't put that kind of detail into it. Just usually describing it as "a mix of bird song and raptor calls." Only getting specific with a few calls and words, and the idea that many Rito words are poorly translated/transiliterated into Hylian. (Like Torikirika (Toe-re-key-re-ka) is the Rito name for Rito Village which means something like "Origin of Our People" but Hylians just called it "Rito Village" and the Rito gave up on correcting them.)

I'd love to pick your brain on Rito language more. (Also, I'm going to have to read your fic soon...)

Amskfjdjnsjdj aaa thank you!!!! 🥺💗

Gosh I need to read your fic too!!!! I spend way too much time writing and not enough time reading these days.

Omg I love love love the idea of Hylians sort of butchering Rito language with their translations. Also Torikirika is such a cool original village name aaaaaa!!!!!!!!

I love to imagine there's a ton of words in Rito language that just aren't translatable. Certain feelings they just don't have the words to describe in Hylian, certain words that just don't have a Hylian equivalent. Sometimes Rito speaking to Hylians and just getting stuck like oh man how do I convey this?? Hylians don't have a word for 'the sheen of moisture on stone after rain but before it freezes over that makes it difficult to land on your talons without slipping', so they'll go with whatever sounds vaugely similar and end up saying super bizarre and funny things like "the paths on the mountain are looking really....water itchy, today".

Also please pick away any time! And I'd love to hear your Rito Language thoughts!!!!! World building is so so much fun I am always excited to hear people's ideas aaaa!

[dzpenumbra]

1/16/23

I woke up today to a text message from my mom. It was encouraging me to reconsider getting my vaccine booster today. Yep, I hate saying this out-loud... I have anti-vaxxer parents. Trump fans, too. It's embarrassing to even type that.

And now, at 1:30 AM... 10 hours after my vaccination... I'm sitting here freaking out at every anxiety chest pain I have, convinced I'm going to keel over and die. I mean... not convinced, let's be real, if I was convinced I would be in an Urgent Care waiting room right now. Just... scared. Looming threat feelings. Doom. That one. That fun fun word.

But it's just Shades of Doom. I'm capitalizing that because it's a fucking badass song title and I want to remember that. Just a smidge of Doom. I'm no stranger to that feeling, and in a sick way... I'm really deeply grateful for my naïve and clumsy solo-swandive into the depths of my Unconscious mind back in 2019, because I have become very well acquainted with the feeling of existential dread. All the colors of existential dread. Fear of biological death. Fear of dying. Fear of existence being a fabrication - either a hallucination/dream I was having or that I simply never actually existed and this was just... fiction or something, or fear that I'm a ghost and I died but I just don't know it yet. Fear of annihilation. That one is rough one. Fear of apocalypse/catastrophe. They all have similar threads, obviously, but they all feel a bit different physically and emotionally, experientially. Like the way that different hot peppers have different heat sensations, but are all kinda the same thing. So yeah, I'm feeling this. It's like... a 2-3/10. And it feels like biological death fear. And the ironic part... well... I don't know if irony is the right word... but... whatever I'll just say what I'm thinking.

I have a tattoo on my chest. It says "Mea Culpa" and it's mirrored. See, I used to get chest pains in a very specific spot in my chest when I was a teenager. Left side of my chest, between two ribs. It was my reminder to myself (thus the mirroring, it's not for others, it's for me) that I am doing this to myself, that sensation is not something my biology is doing to me, it's a message my subconscious is sending to indicate danger. Because I confused that enough times in my life, I wanted to make it clear once and for all. It was also, once translated to "my fault" kinda a double entendre of "my weakness". And that is the exact spot where I'm getting chest tension right now. So... jokes on you, anxiety, I was like 15 years ahead of you, you ain't foolin me tonight.

It's pretty crazy how things evolve. I stopped getting physical anxiety symptoms almost entirely for a long time, like not even feeling my heart race. That shit is crazy disorienting. You're just going... "I'm upset, I'm scared, but... I don't feel scared? Am I broken?" Which, of course, compounds the anxiety... But yeah, I guess this is a big one if it's pulling out the old classics like chest pain. I'm sure sleeping tonight is gonna be a blast.

See... ugh, I don't even know how to tell the story of today. Let's just go back. So I got my vaccine done. And they just said "you don't have to wait 15 minutes, you can just go," and left me in this like... closet. And I was seriously gonna go... "actually, I kinda want to stay, because I live alone and I don't have any friends and I'm kinda scared because people were saying scary shit to me about all this... so... could we hang out for like 10 minutes?" But... I didn't. Because I'm a 36 year old man who is supposed to be numb and stoic like a goddamn soldier is supposed to be, because feelings are a weakness and a liability, right? Welp, I'll tell you what I did. I went to the stationary aisle and looked at pens and post-it notes and markers and journals and notebooks and puzzles and shit for like... 7 minutes. Then I went and pretended to look at the shitty books they had for like... 2 minutes. Then I found a like... plastic mat thing for my shower that I ended up buying, and got a roll of Starburst. Then I decided I wasn't actually dying, so I got in my car and... texted my sister-in-law back.

See... my sister-in-law texted me this morning too, and invited me out to their place to see my nephew and their dog, to visit for dinner. I explained the situation and we went through with it. It was great! Before I headed over there, I went to Michael's. I was pissed off about the whole thing the other day with Instacart just... not bringing me $20 worth of blank wooden beads... I had some really cool ideas brewing with that... so I went into that store on a goddamn mission. And boy did I hit paydirt. I walked out with a wooden box for fruit and candy (yay), a package of clasps for future necklace pieces, a string of 12mm Tiger's Eye beads, and a string of 8mm black obsidian beads. And I'm like 90% certain they're real stone, they really don't feel like glass to me. So I was just completely stoked coming out of that shopping adventure. Hopped on the highway and headed to my brother's house.

Hanging out there was awesome. Their area is absolutely gorgeous. I got to meet the pup who is a 2 year old male sable German Shepherd, which is the same exact age my pup was when I got her. He even has similar coloration and personality and everything. I love him. He was so well behaved, so friendly, so happy and super affectionate. Especially since this was my first time meeting him. Very respectful and communicative, too, which I was very impressed by. It was very heart-warming!

Dinner was great, they got take out and it was very nice. They're foodies, so I know when I eat with them I'm getting something really nice that's way outside my normal budget. My brother got me to try Szechuan peppercorns, which are crazy - he gave me both the corns themselves and an oil with them in it. Very unique sensation and experience.

I got to chill with my nephew for a bit, he's getting so big so fast. I still feel... distant with kids. Like... I just don't really know what to do with my hands. It's just been a very long time, like around 10 years. Very alien concept. Where the dog thing very fresh, very natural, very second nature. So I imagine this is how people feel when I ask them if they want to pick up or pet my cat when they haven't touched a cat in like... a decade. It's not like... a "no", it's not a bad thing, and it's not an inexperience thing, it's a rusty hinges thing, I guess. It's humbling. But we got to have some nice bonding time, and I really enjoyed it.

Interacting solo and alone with my brother is... odd. I really don't know him well, but we do have a lot of like... science things that we have in common. That was really cool. So I shared my fascination with opal, and asked for recommendations of places to hike and places to maybe gather lake stones, like a stone beach? And he seemed genuinely intrigued and interested in following up. There's just always been a disconnect between us, and I haven't really been able to tell what it is. I have my theories that it's like... I am sorta walking around radiating pure emotions (for the most part) and maybe he struggles to express them? Or feels threatened by mine, like others? I don't know. I don't like speculating. It was just... a barrier, and it felt... ancient. It felt like a barrier that's always been there. That we're almost just like... different animals, or something. I dunno. Hard to describe. But it's nice to be able to find common ground and bond, regardless of how different we are. That made me really happy!

About 20 minutes after I got home... cat's fed, I got more food to graze on and everything, I'm going to collapse in my beanbag chair and watch this Graham Hancock documentary series on Netflix because I was/am just physically exhausted... my Dad texts me. ... Yep... He sends me a paragraph warning me to not under any circumstances take that shot and that he has read all kinds of research about how dangerous it is, and heard horror stories from "friends" of his or whatever. Like... for real. And was saying he could pass along some "literature" or whatever. And I just got like... HUGE cult vibes. Like Scientology vibes. And I, stupidly, said something snarky like "too late, but good news, I'm not dead." I tried to follow up by calling my mom to ask her to just convey calmly that I'm okay and to ask him to not text me... but she dodged the call. And it was probably for the best.

It pains me. And it haunts me. Like... if you're genuinely afraid for my life and care, why the fuck are you trying to pass me fucking pamphlets or news articles. Why the fuck are you not asking how I'm doing? How I'm feeling? If there's anything you can do to make my night a bit better? Like, if you genuinely, 100% were convinced that I was going to die tonight, do you really want your last message to your son to be "You should've read the studies I found." Good lord. Who trains these people on how to like... support people? If you really think that someone's personal health decisions are that abhorrent that you're not going to even check in to see how they're doing, I mean... you know you can just like... walk away, right? XD Gah, I'm not even making coherent sentences anymore. This shit is so emotionally... god I don't even have the word... I want to say effervescent, or like... bubbling... like a boiling pot. Like I said very clearly to him "the anxiety you two are exposing me to (this isn't a direct quote, I don't want to re-read that) is guaranteed to do damage to my health". And I truly mean that. From the heart (hehe, because of the peri/myocarditis risk, get it?). They are talking to someone who has had crippling PTSD for years - years. Has been in therapy, has been on meds, has been housebound for weeks, months at a time. Had his car rendered incapacitated from being parked in the same space for months. I literally had a flat tire frozen into the mud in the ground last winter. My car was literally frozen into the ground. Because I didn't leave my house. And they look at that - this PTSD case who has no friends, no girlfriend, lives alone - and they go "yeah, let's dump our fear on that dude". "What harm could it cause." "I mean, what else am I gonna do with this nasty fear shit? Work through it? HA!"

Ugh, I gotta get off this topic, it's so fucking upsetting. I'm even dreading proofreading this after because of how stressful even the thought of all of it is. So, I went from that into a binge of Graham Hancock - modern-day harbinger of doom. Nothing boosts the mood like saying "hey, we're careening into the Taurid meteor stream around the same cycle that caused what we're theorizing was a gigantic series of impacts that wiped out most of the life on Earth. Could happen any year now. Sleep tight!" And in other years, I would be crying myself to sleep and reaching out to all the loved ones I've ever had to make the most of my final days on this planet. But... now? Nope. Now, I'm not really off-put by it. I don't think it's repression, I don't think it's numbness. I could be wrong. But I don't think it is. I think it's more of a peace thing. Like... at least I got to try to do what I see as my purpose on this planet. And at least I got to, in some ways, succeed in fulfilling that purpose. That's more than a lot of people can say. I may not be a successful streamer, or a world-class musician, or a talented jewelry maker, or a master nature illustrator, or a skillful tarot reader, or a prodigious writer. But I got to do what I love. I got to walk barefoot in rivers and talk to the trees. I got to get wasted at a party in a penthouse suite in Vegas. I got to perform improvised metal drums in front of an audience wearing a wizard mask, a crop top, a bow tie and silver spandex hot pants, barefoot. I got to be a dad for a wonderful dog and a wonderful cat. I was a very selfless and giving friend, even if my "friends" hadn't earned that privilege. I loved with all my heart. And I tried really really hard to be as honest and pure with my expressions on this planet as I could be, regardless of how unsafe people make it to be honest and pure, regardless of the fact that nearly no one else is. I have been doing my damnedest to live an authentic life. To live as true to my passions, my bliss, my ever-changing pure narrative as I can. I really hope more people can feel how liberating that is, how... you feel like an actual person. Not a prop in someone else's movie. Not a background actor. Not following a script or something. You're just you, and you're just... being you. Good lord, shit like this is so hard to put into words! XD

So yeah, maybe I'm just in a better place mentally lately? Or maybe I'm just not processing things fully? Either way, there's a nice stillness and calm present right now that I'm excited to fall into as I head to bed.

To bring a good note back, because if you read any of this, you know my tradition I really try to do is to end on a good note, with good vibes. I try to do it every night, reset the palate before my entry into the dream realm. I keep looking over at these Tiger's Eye beads. I'm really excited to work with them. I don't know what I'm going to do, but I really like them. I'll see if they pair with my wrapped bloodstone. But.. but... that leads to this. So I have a ton of beeswax, and I was going to melt it and mix it with walnut oil to thin it a bit, make a paste out of it. I'm saying this like I came up with the idea, naw, I found a thing online that recommended it for sealing things you want to be... food-safe? And all-organic. So... there's that. So these won't be bad if my nephew decides to chew on them, especially if I use non-toxic paints/dyes (note to self...). I was going to use this wax finish on my mahogany chopsticks I have, which have been a work in progress for an embarrassingly long time. But I found a stone I want to set in them, a greenstone piece that should look really good in contrast with the dark reddish brown of mahogany, and I can cut the greenstone now with my new hacksaw blade. But I'm thinking of taking these blank raw wood beads and either carving them, painting them or both. Individually. By hand. Maybe playing around with dyes too, especially since I have this stuff called Dragonfly Glaze, which is a full-spectrum color-changing topcoat glaze. So many possibilities! Tell me that's not exciting. And, I mean... I got to go to Michael's today. There's really not a lot of vibes I have that are better than me getting lost in the awe of so many wonderful art/craft supplies. I used to tell people that I need a chaperone when I go in there, because I just wander off and end up there for hours. I have a lot of cool projects on the table to get started tomorrow, yay!

Off to sleep, super exhausted. Bye!

[elonaackerman]

In a few hour's the spoiler leaks are going to be released for the final chapter of Attack on titan manga and the official translation on April 9th so before all that happens what are you're thoughts and predictions between the character's and the end of the storyline?

https://ww7.readsnk.com/chapter/shingeki-no-kyojin-spoilers-raw-chapter-139/.

Hello Kian ! I see several of your questions about the ending and I must say I was lost myself with everything happening. However, I think I elaborated a good theory now !

Theory number 1: Eren is alive

This is the theory I acknowledge the most. Many people say that Eren not dying would be too strange after he already survived so much times to his expected deaths, but I don’t think so. Isayama loves to take some clichés and to twist them:

Here is a brief list:

- The MC not dying in the first episodes

- The power of will and friendship (which is shown to be useless in the Trost arc)

- The guy protecting the girl (Mikasa is Eren’s bodyguard, not the contrary)

- The main trio sticking together until the end

- The MC being « special »/being the « chosen one » (Eren is an usurpator)

Something very used in films/books is to use the absence of body as a way to cancel the absolute truth of a death. By showing us a body, Isayama can fool us by transgressing this common rule of « body=dead ».

Also Eren’s death in chapter 138 was just serving Mikasa’s development arc climax. It didn’t solve any matter of their world.

You know I feel like Eren was very relaxed when he saw Mikasa approaching to kill him. He probably already knew what she was going to do and even closed his eyes when she did it (you can see it since on the last panel, Eren has his eyes closed). I feel like if Eren acted this way, it’s because he transferred his consciousness to his body (all this time his head was controlling the titan so he may have regenerated a head on his body). It would explain why this concept was introduced to us with Reiner in season 3 and then never used again.

Plus, Grisha said everything would go along to Eren’s plan, but if Eren didn’t succeed, the Rumbling is stopped and hell awaits eldians: they will be killed after what happened, considered too dangerous, more than they already were. And even if the titan power is removed, there will still be a large part of hate and of revenge in the Rumbling survivors’ hearts. I don’t believe the « Code Geass theory » which says that Eren did the rumbling so the world could see Eldians defending it, and stand united with Mahrs against him (in the role of the bad guy), especially since some Eldians sided with Eren and that he exposed them in Revelio or even in Paradise with his devoted Yeagerists. It’s not realistic at all and it doesn’t fit nor Eren’s character, nor SNK spirit.

Eren had defined goals: « exterminate them all », and that’s what he did, he doesn’t seem to want to stop the rumbling on this panel:

Isayama said he didn’t like characters who weren’t true to their goals, that let the story change their plans and motivations too easily. He wouldn’t give to his MC the traits of a writing he despise.

Another reason why I believe the guy is alive is because his POV was hidden all this time. What’s the point of not giving to us Eren’s perspective while his final battle, when it would have been more powerful, if you did not have a big secret/plot twist generator to hide ? I think Eren and Ymir, who smiles like a creep in 138, manipulated everyone: the way Armin came with all the titan shifters in 137 with the help of Ymir was already really suspicious. Kruger, for example, had no reason to stand against Eren.

Chapter 137 was Armin, 138 was Mikasa so we will surely get Eren perspective for 139. And it will be weird if we have it while the guy is dead. Of course we’ll see what happened in chapter 130 between Eren and Historia (I can’t wait for their POVs) and Historia’s baby. The final panel makes me even more sure that Eren is still alive otherwise who on earth would say « You are free » to a new born child ? Eren x Freedom is canon.

• The Attack Titan

We know the path is a place out of time. It’s in this place that titans are sculpted by Ymir, and that’s why I think it makes sense for Eren to be the first owner of that titan: the attack titan is the only one who ascends in the past instead of descending in the future. If physically it seems to be passed down following the classical timeline, all of it is actually playing in the paths. The Attack Titan was only possessed by rebels, directly influenced by Eren’s mindset. It disappeared at a time, and it was also a part of Ymir’s titan: it��s her rebellious part designed to « attack » the world 2000 years later. I think Isayama might add depth again to the title of the story in 139.

• Major deaths

I can’t help but think: why did Eren let Mikasa cut his head and even indicated his location with titan marks ? I think that it’s possible he wants his last friends to fly away from the battle, thinking they have won when they didn’t, so that he can restart the Rumbling without killing them. The survivors would be Levi, Mikasa, Armin and probably Annie. I think Reiner will die to let Gaby eat him, so that Falco and Gaby, representing the future, can be saved.

It makes sense for Reiner to sacrifice himself for his little cousin: he lived for the ones he loved even if he didn’t wish to live himself, and since Gaby represents the new generation, hope, and that she was the potential inheritor of the Armored Titan, I am convinced she is the one who will eat him.

After that the most probable thing is that Levi and Mikasa, who grew incredibly closer, will live together, same for Annie and Armin. Eren will achieve the Rumbling then go back to Historia and we will have that Akatsuki no Requiem ending.

However, a darker possibility is that everyone except Falco and Gaby might die. I am in denial 😄✌🏻

But, I ask myself how Eren will make titans disappear. I think he might have plotted something with Ymir, after all isn’t she free from King Fritz now ? Or maybe Falco will eradicate the worm (bird vs worm is kinda obvious). However I do not think the people transformed into titans will turn back to normal, it’s not Isayama’s style to « bring back » dead characters, it would make Jean’s and Connie’s deaths less tragic. I think that only shifters will loose their ability and the 13 years thing.

Theory 2: if Eren is dead

• Ymir’s manipulation

I don’t wanna believe it but what if all of this was Ymir’s plan ? If he IS dead, it’s Ymir who is the mastermind and manipulated him so that the parasite would die and that she could get out off the paths. « I took the world’s freedom to gain mine » what if it’s YMIR TALKING in 133 ? She could even had sent the dream to Mikasa in 138 so that she would know WHERE Eren was and kill him, all of this after Ymir took revenge on the world. Remember, the titan who protected Zeke came from earth, and Ymir entered in contact with « the source of all organic life », which means she could be the one behind the birds we keep seeing, including the one on Mikasa dream. She could be smiling because her plan WORKED.

Also remember in the paths where Eren was talking to the Alliance ? He was in his kid Eren form, like Ymir, we didn’t see his eyes, showing his slavery and a strange alike-look. Ymir was standing right next to him, in the exact same position, mirroring him as if he was a sort of reflection/puppet of hers. Everybody thought the contrary until now, that Ymir followed Eren. While she was here, Eren was saying that the only way to end all of this was to take his life: what if Ymir made him say that ?

It makes even more sense when Ymir helped Armin with summoning shifters and that they also had their mouths don’t moving.

• Eldian Society ?

The only way to resolve  everything if Eren is dead is to create an Eldian empire domination with the rest of the world being weak and wiped out. Everybody would live on Paradise and would be teached about the cycle of hate and the heroes who stopped the Rumbling as new Helos, giving us an explanation of that picture in the opening (it could also be Eren’s society as well meant to not repeat the same mistakes as well)

I hope you liked it ! Let’s not suffer too much during the waiting and organize cottagecore RM and EH weddings with the beach Aruannie one instead of crying 💁🏻‍♀️

[fictionadventurer]

Sometimes I finish a book and walk away thinking about how good it was. Other times, the primary sensation is “I’ve just wasted hours of my life on this.”

But on rare occasions, the one and only thought that consumes me is “I Must Discuss This With the Knitting Circle”.

Ladies and gentlemen, I need to talk about The Seventh Raven by David Elliott.

This is a retelling of the Grimm’s fairy tale “The Seven Ravens”. And it’s specifically that fairy tale, not just an adaptation of a “Six Swans” type of story.

It’s also in verse. And not just free verse. He uses different styles of structured poetry for each character and for the narrative voice.

My favorite part of the story was the author’s note where he discusses the thought processes behind each poem form he used.

Two of the poem forms he uses are the one used in Gerard Manley Hopkins’ “Pied Beauty” and the “Pushkin sonnet” used in Eugene Onegin! I was going nuts when I read that, because I couldn’t believe that this man HAD SOMEHOW DESIGNED THIS BOOK TO LINE UP WITH MY EXTREMELY SPECIFIC POETRY EXPERIENCES!  How does that even HAPPEN???

Knowing that, I get a bit judgey with the way he messed around with the poem forms. Like, why do a Pushkin sonnet if you’re not going to use iambic tetrameter? It’s part of the form! People have managed to retain it in translations so I think you can up your game and not get lazy with the syllable count.

This is a surprisingly good adaptation of the fairy tale. I was worried that doing it in verse would make it very bland, and while of course we don’t connect to these people the same way that we would in a prose story, the chosen form does lend it a very cool dreamy, fable-like feel. And the characters all have unique voices and perspectives. It also manages to do more than just present the original fairy tale in poem form--there are innovations here that make it feel like its own story, which is one of my requirements for retellings.

It reminds me a bit of The Little Prince in the way certain characters represent certain life philosophies. Her father has a never-ending dissatisfaction with the way things are. She runs across characters who represent Despair and Materialism. (And the characters are in the original fairy tale without this symbolism, but the way he translates it to his story’s setting is interesting).

The thing that really made this Knitting Circle material was the way that the fairy tale intersected with religion. I don’t know what to think of his use of it.

The story pivots around the main character’s baptism--as in the original. Yet he equates religion with magic--there’s a line where the priest says he needs water to do his��“abracadabra”. It could very well just be a poetic turn of phrase. But then after the little girl survives, the priest just...leaves, saying he’s no longer needed. It seems to write off baptism as just another magic life-saving ritual. But baptism also exists in the story as something important. I don’t quite get it. 

There’s still something about it that gives me an inkling that Elliot may be coming at this from a Christian perspective. Even if he’s not religious, there’s more of a sense that he understands such a perspective better than a lot of secular writers. I can’t put my finger on any one moment, but there’s just a something that resonates with my worldview, even if it isn’t perfect.

(There’s also the fact that he’s apparently written a similar novel in verse about Joan of Arc. It could indicate religious devotion, or it could just be another example of the culture repurposing her story from a secular perspective. I’m wary.)

Biggest problem with the story is the “Seventh Raven” of the title. He’s supposed to be the one we sympathize with, the emo boy who doesn’t fit in anywhere. But he just winds up being kind of annoying, not really even trying to connect with the people around him. Even after they’re saved, you would think the story would be about him learning to balance his need for freedom with his need for community and caring for the people in his life. But he just kind of lives off by himself still thinking about how different he is from everybody else. Really dropped a ball there.

As a story, it’s probably not all that great. But between the verse and the philosophy and the retelling aspects, there’s so much interesting stuff to think about and I wish I could discuss it with you guys.

Between this and Eugene Onegin, I’ve learned that I need to seek out more novel in verse.

[srbachchan]

DAY 4831

Jalsa, Mumbai                   May 20,  2021                 Thu 9:14 PM

Birthday  - Ef Gopi Sheth .. Ef Aish TVM .. Friday, May 21 .. our greetings and love on this special day .. be safe be well and be protected .. ❤️🌹

A dear friend sent me this article .. I thought it was a very good read and so thought of putting it here :

Write Tight

What is poetry? Etymology provides more questions than answers.

T. S. Eliot, who once famously called National Poetry Month the cruelest, was also one of many to point out the hopeless semantic tangles that ensue because “poetry” has two opposites. Poetry can be the lined stuff, often with rhymes, as opposed to sentences and paragraphs; poetry can also be the good stuff, as opposed to the plodding or simply informational. But if good prose can be poetic, a novel can be “pure poetry,” and poems can be prosaic, then it’s not clear what anyone is talking about, really. Or rather, it’s clear except to theorists trying to come up with definitions. Poetry is what’s thrilling, while a poem is that poor thing with eleven readers, eight of them members of the poet’s extended family.

Etymology doesn’t help—it only highlights that the apples and oranges here are how the thing is made and how it moves. Poetry is from the Greek poiein, “to make”: a poem is something made, or in English we would more naturally say crafted. Yet everyone agrees good prose is well crafted, too. Prose means, literally, “straightforward,” from the Latin prosa, proversus, “turned to face forward” (whereas verse is all wound up, twisty and snaky, “turned” in every direction except, apparently, forward). Yet we all know that poems can be clear and direct, too, especially when they’re songs.

Sidelining sonnets and quarantining quatrains in the poetry ghetto does produce a certain clarity. But of course it also creates problems when translating from languages that gerrymander poetry differently. In German, for example, writer is a word even more literal than the English “someone who writes”: it’s Schriftsteller, a put-down-on-paper-er (Schrift = “writing,” stellen = “to place, to put”). Autor is a word used a bit less often for pretty much the same thing, unlike in English, where there’s a difference: author expresses a professional and financial identity (there are no “unpublished authors,” unless maybe the manuscript is finished and the contract is signed), while a writer is someone pursuing an activity (published or not, paid or not, read or not).

And then there’s a Dichter, usually translated “poet” but meaning a creator of poetry in the grand sense. The verb dichten means “to write poetry, ” and a poem is a dichten-ed thing, a Gedicht, but dichten means more generally to write poetically and well. The good stuff. The writer as hero of the spirit. How do you say that in English? We don’t have heroes of the spirit.

At least not according to Grimm’s German Dictionary—the equivalent of the Oxford English Dictionary, and started by those same Brothers Grimm who brought us “Little Red Riding Hood.” It gloats that dichten means “to create poetically, filled with a higher intelligence,” and that “the word does not exist in French and English: they work around it with s’adonner à la poésie, faire des vers; to compose a poem, to make verses, to versify.” The OED can fire back all it wants—pleading that dight had “an extraordinary sense-development” in Middle English from its original “senses of literary dictation and composition,” to become “one of the most widely used words in the language”—but its efforts are in vain. From that whole extraordinary range of meanings we use exactly none anymore.

“To understand the word,” Grimm’s poetically goes on, “we must go back to an earlier time …” Dichten originally meant to write something down so it could be read or sung, something that had already been worked out in the mind (from the Latin dictare, “to say, to dictate”). It swerved into meaning the mental working-out, too, the originating creative act. A sixteenth-century saying already plays on the same double meaning that causes ambiguity in English: “A good enough rhyme-smith, but hardly a poet” (Reimschmiede genug, aber wenig Dichter). But from there, the word left the confines of verse. In German, you can still call someone a poet in the grand sense without consigning him to the poetry ghetto.

So what is a Dichter in prose? I have caved on occasion and translated Dichter as “poet,” in cases where the character in question may or may not be a poet (e.g., Robert Walser’s story “Letter from a Poet to a Gentleman”), or happens to be a poet even if that’s not really the point. Goethe was a poet, so the title of his autobiography, Dichtung und Wahrheit, can be translated as it usually is, Poetry and Truth, even though the book is not particularly about verse as opposed to other forms. His topic is actually Imagination and Truth, but imagination set down on paper. To put it anachronistically: Creative Writing and the Truth.

Sometimes, though, “poet” risks being downright misleading. A twentieth-century German writer named Uwe Johnson, known as the Dichter der beiden Deutschlands (the Dichter of both East and West Germany), wrote only prose. Call him the “poet of both Germanies” and people will think he’s a poet. He is more like “the voice of divided Germany,” or even “the bard,” despite being neither a songwriter nor Shakespeare. In English, we can get the grandeur (voice) or the job (writer, author, novelist), but not both.

There are cognates of dichten, from the same Latin dictare, but they never took on the same soaring spirit in English, at least since the demise of dight. Very much on the contrary. Our closest cognate, indite, “to put into words, write, compose, give literary form to,” was more or less completely swamped by what was once the same word, indict, “to write up charges, bring legal action against.” (Probably under interference from indicare, “to indicate, give evidence against”; and indicere, “to declare publicly,” compare Italian indicere, “to denounce.”) To translate Dichter as “inditer” won’t do. Even our least sarcastic Dichter is sarcastic about that: “Perhaps my best moments I never jot down; when they come I cannot afford to break the charm by inditing memoranda”—Walt Whitman.

Coincidentally, dicht in German also means “tight,” as in watertight or airtight (from Old Norse þéttr, apparently completely unrelated etymologically to dictare), and the verb dichten is also “to seal, caulk, make impermeable,” as well as “to make more dense or compact.” Ezra Pound played on the pun in his second most well-known slogan for what poetry does (after “Make it new”): dichten = condensare. An imagist manifesto in twenty characters: to write poetry is to condense and supercharge language. (Pound attributed the equation to the poet Basil Bunting “fumbling about with a German–Italian dictionary”; actually, Bunting knew what he was doing, and wasn’t exactly fumbling. Pound = condescendere.)

This may not be a less ambiguous definition of poetry, but it is a good challenge for the Dichters in our midst, in poetry or prose. Don’t just make it new: make it tight.

with admiration for the ones that read and feel read ..❤️

Amitabh Bachchan

[magicalgirlsandcerulean]

Thanks for watching ep. 9. Here's an Uruu from Sayaka Tokunaga, who did the key frames for Uruu's transformation and was the chief animation director for the battle parts.

Details about Kusano's blog post for ep. 8 are under the cut (it's dated 24th May 2021). Spoilers below, including some previously-mentioned tweets from Hishida and Ishikawa.

Hishida says:

Ｆ蘭８話でテーマになったやりがい搾取っていうのは、僕らアニメ業界でも切実な問題だったりしますね。園長みたいな奴、マジでGO to Hell！ッス。

社会派監督なんでついこんな事も呟く

"F-Ran ep. 8's theme is about job satisfaction exploitation, so it's a pertinent issue for us in the anime industry. People like the childcare centre director can really GO to hell!"

"Why is the socially-aware director only now tweeting this sort of thing?"

Ishikawa says:

F蘭丸７話人工呼吸～打ち合わせで怒り憎しみ８割、キスへの興味２割結果８話で首絞められるというね、しかし、焔は自分のしらない所でキスをされ首を絞められてるという～(/´△`＼)なんという…

"F-Ran ep. 7's CPR ~ In the preparatory meeting, it was meant to be 80% hatred and 20% interest from the kiss, with the result being the strangling in ep. 8, but Homura doesn't even know he's being kissed and strangled~(/´△`＼) There's nothing special about it...

Hishida replies to this:

へーそうなんだ。知らんかった。僕はそんな細かい指示しない監督です。　#現場でも足蹴にされる監督

"Ehh...so that's how it is? I didn't know. I'm not a director which gives that kind of precise directions. #DirectorIsBeingTreatedBadlyEvenOnSite

(Some of Hishida's tweets reveal this "director is being treated badly" hashtag is a running joke of his. He's even monopolised the tag, based on a request from a fan.)

Now, on to the blog post proper:

The title of the post is こわっぱこわっぱ〜！そうだそうだ〜！な樹果回 which doesn't translate well, but こわっぱ is a derogatory term meaning "brat" or "youth". However, the important thing to note is Kowappa kowappa! is also what the leaves at the start of the episode were shouting, so it's meant to be cute and not derogatory. Therefore the translation would be something like "Juka's Episode: Kowappa kowappa~! Yeah, yeah~!"

That had to be explained because Kusano starts with こわっぱ instead of a proper greeting (highly likely to have been used in place of こんばんは, based on the similar sounds and the time the episodes air).

Kusano starts by asking how ep. 8 was and he wrote as much as he wanted. He then puts a spoiler warning.

A part:

Homura's alive.

As explained, the leaves are yelling "Kowappa kowappa!" as they revive (?) Homura. Kusano finds this cute and wants people to yell it out at a screening event (one where people are encouraged to cheer to participate).

Even in this kind of emergency situation, they still have to gather attachment...really, fairy errands are scary. Kusano notes Takara is being sketchy and knows something, but he's interested (in finding out what Takara knows).

Juka's flashback scene: We get to see the Arbor Clan's world and it's a fairytale world. Juka's father is amazingly kind, but he looks a bit like a carrot. Kusano giggled at the thought of this.

This time's person who has to be helped is Aru, who works at a childcare centre. Juka's helping with something unexpected, so Takara immediately makes a joke out of it.

Kusano admits he did the voice of the smol Juka.

In the other room is...Uruu?! To get to the point of strangling someone...what's he doing?! The audience gets a better indication of what's going on with this and then Ranmaru intervenes (literally, "saviour Ranmaru"). Kusano notes Ranmaru's ability to sense danger is amazingly high (so much so that he goes "nice!" with a thumbs-up emoji).

When the scene changes, we go to HOTEL Tsubo CLUB. That's the "tsubo" quota checked off. Kusano thinks the childcare centre director's thoughts are insane...or rather, being a host was fun. Each member of Go to Heaven voiced their favourite host.

B part:

Time to dig potatoes. Juka's the youngest, but he's good at taking care of people, huh?

Aru is working her hardest, even though she's in a black childcare centre (<- play on black company). Kusano's chest tightened (<- in an emotional sense) when he saw Aru trying her best and then there was the line 「誰のことも傷つけちゃ駄目なら、自分のことだって傷つけちゃ駄目なんだよ。」 (CR translation: "It's good to work hard to keep others safe, to make sure you never do harm.") Kusano was emotionally touched by this scene.

Then the transformation!! So, Juka! Go and help Aru! (Yeah! Yeah! Yayyyyyyyyyy!) (Again, this feeds back into why I translated the title.)

Juka's clothes melted away. Kusano notes that's a bit perverted. Juka's in a pinch and it seems like he'll be melted, but he revives himself. Kusano thought, "Isn't Juka really strong?" End with "Go to heaven!!!" and the director collapsing without much incident.

To Bar F. Uruu asks his question to Homura (*cue police light emoji and relevant sound effect*), Homura's answer shocks Uruu and Takara gets flustered. Will everything be wrapped up okay in 4 episodes...?

Later developments:

The director got dismissed from her position. Kusano thinks it's really nice that Aru's doing better, now she's gone.

Aru: 「お芋は新聞に包んで持ち帰りましょうね〜！」 (CR translation: "Now let's wrap [the potatoes] in newspaper and take them home!")...hmm? It's the newspaper with the article about the director's dismissal?! Aru did [such a daring thing]. Kusano feels as if Aru's somehow gotten a bit stronger [from that ordeal].

Juka also receives a bit of praise for being part of the Arbor Clan. He's matured a bit again. Kusano wants to protect Juka from now on as well.

Juka: 「でも、やっぱカッコよくなりたいな〜。」 (CR translation: "But...I still wish I could be cooler!") Juka's foundation (i.e. his wanting to be "cool", instead of "cute") never changes, which is also part of his appeal.

Next episode: Apathy. At last, a man who's trendy on Twitter appears?!?! Look forward to it!

Takara's comment for this post matches his previous joking: 「普段から園児の格好でもええんやで～」 ("It's okay, even if you normally look like a kindergartener~.)

Update: It turns out the hashtag may be a reference to a book called 現場で求められる声優 (roughly "Voice Actors Are Requested On Site") and going back through the hashtag's history reveals it originally lacked the も (thereby making it closer to the book name), so I changed the hashtag translation appropriately. Also added a bit of history regarding that hashtag (since the tag that asks Hishida to monopolise the tag is the first tweet to add も).

Update 2: It also turns out "arbour" is not a word meaning "tree", but it's a thing that supports trees. Google-sensei has more details. Thus, I changed "arbour" to "arbor" (no extra U) so then it does mean "tree".

[tinyshinysylveon]

Koimonogatari Summary Ch.23

Hello! So I'll be posting a slightly detailed summary of the latest chapter (23) of koimonogatari but before we move on, disclaimer that I'm still learning JP so it'll probably be not as accurate ;; Please refer to the official translations once it comes out and/or, if you prefer, from a scan team that's scanlating this manga! With that being said, I'll also be posting a few images that I've translated/typeset (i won't be translating the sfx effects since they take too long to edit orz) so spoilers ahead! 

So first page takes place after Yuiji and Nemoto had that talk from the previous chapter. Nemoto proceeds to complain while calling Natsumi "Neko-chan" about how she told Yuiji something troublesome/annoying. (she said something like, 自己焼悪 "self-loathing" or "I hate myself" afterwards). Natsumi decides to do the same thing and complained about how she might've said something strange too to Yamato. After that, they both decided to eat crepes together to forget their worries lol

Next, it shows Yuiji and Yamato walking together and they talk about the culture festival and how the girls are really reliable when it comes to preparations. They even agreed that they're strong (they didn't specify who here but i'm sure they implied nemoto and natsumi). Yuiji then talks about how he started talking to Nemoto after a long time and he felt a sense of relief in talking normally. He then asked if they can hug and Yamato was confused how it was related to what he talked about, but Yuiji went for it anyway. Yuiji says that he used to embrace Kyousuke (Hongou) whenever he gets "struck by the source" so now he's using Yuiji for today as his "healing point." 

(T/N: I was a bit confused with このへん here and because この means "this" and へん could mean "strange" I was thinking "this strange-" but then I saw the preceding particle で (このへんで) that could indicate location or where an action takes place and found out このへん together means "this area/around here" so I chose this one instead of the other one, I'm probably wrong ;; oof just know that they hugged here lol)

In Yamato's thoughts, he's happy that he's a substitute for Hongou and he couldn't stop his heart from beating fast in his chest. He keeps telling himself that he's scared that he was going to get caught and that he couldn't hug Yuiji (it shows a half hug from him so i'm guessing he couldn't hug him fully?). Yamato kept on saying, 怖い (kowai) meaning "scary" in the page during the hug ;; 

Now we jump to the culture festival! (i probably won't go over too much till the end, so i'll probably skip some parts) Yamato and Seki appeared and people were saying how they look really cool in their outfits. After that, they started preparing and splitting the groups into two: beautiful girls and handsome boys. The handsome group goes first.

They even told the customers not to take photos of them lol Yamato and Seki got into character (they were discussing a character system, i'm not sure if Seki mentioned his but he told Yamato to do a "prince" type and he even acted like one to a little girl) and were serving customers samples, charming them, etc. (the "here you go" first image ref!) Meanwhile, Yuiji was making waffles and they were getting a lot of people lining up to get some so it was a huge hit. Part of it was because of Yamato and Seki's customer service. When they met up, Hongou's friends who came over (and even took notice of Seki and Yamato's looks) loved the waffles too. When Seki and Yamato switch with the girls to take a break, Mikeda and the girl (i wasn't sure if her name was mentioned), who were from the last page of ch.21, are in the festival and also tried the waffles. It then cuts to Yuiji and Natsumi who told each other good work and realized they both ended up getting the same drink from the animal cafe that Nemoto is working in. Yuiji starts talking about his relationship with Nemoto to Natsumi and being friends. Natsumi said something about love is merely fun until you realize your mistake (or probably too late in this case?), then wondered if she'll fall in love with someone again. 

Mikeda shows up out of nowhere then asks if they know where Yamato is and introduced himself as his middle school friend. Natsumi made a weird face when she saw him and Mikeda noticed it then asked if she knows him. As he was talking, she tried texting Yamato not to come to them but it was too late orz

- end of chapter - 

If you have reached the end, take everything with a grain of salt! I didn't want to make it long so I had to cut off some parts ;;  Hopefully the scan team will release the full pages with translations soon! Nonetheless, thank you for reading! 

If you want to pay for the official to support the author, please go on this website! https://www.tokyopop.com/book-catalogue-new-titles/koimonogatari-love-stories-vol-1 (it tells you on the side what platforms it's available on and so far, there's 2 volumes) 

I am also not affiliated with any scan team! I've only been in one so far and have only worked as a proofreader/quality check/helped with translations sometimes

[volturiwolf]

The Volturi Princess - A Felix Volturi x fem!Reader Story (part 3)

No of Words: about 5313

Mentions of: Abandonment, Abortion, Anxiety, Blood, Bruises, Coma/Comatosed State, Death Emotional Abuse, Emotional and Physical Pain, Gaslighting, Greece/Greek Language - with translation, Heartbreak, Italian Language - with translation, Manipulation, Murder, Pain, Panic Attacks, Pregnancy, Suffering, Suicide/Suicidal Thoughts, Swear Language, Throwing Up/Puking, Witches/Wizards/Witchcraft

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part 1 part 2

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"The Volturi Princess " Tag List (reply if you want to be tagged or removed):

@felixvolturisprincess @singerj2002 @mrtony-stank1 @ikissedthescarsonherskin @alecvolturiswifeforever @hshehdyhd

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Felix’s POV:

We have been traveling for over a year now, Demetri tracking Carlisle and us following behind him. Demetri located him across the Atlantic, so we swam across the ocean to reach him. Almost a year and a half after leaving Volterra, we tracked Carlisle while he was working as a doctor somewhere in the northern United States. He was surprised to see us, but we kept our austere facade to maintain our sovereignty towards him. He welcomed us gladly in his small house.

It was a two-story building, and it smelled of old wood and mold, but I guess that was the best he could do for now. The living conditions around here did not seem to be ideal. Apart from the Volturi and the Egyptian coven, no other vampire lived comfortably, in castles, mansions, or even big houses; most vampires were nomads, traveling around and living by hunting whenever they could. So, Carlisle actually living in a house, even if it looked like this, was way better than living the nomad life.

“Jane, Alec, Demetri, Felix. To what do I owe this pleasure? Can I offer you anything?” Carlisle had always been one of the kindest of our kind, too compassionate for a vampire.

“No, Carlisle, thank you, we’re good. We are on a mission, and we have a few questions for you.” Jane took it up to herself to start the conversation.

“Please, sit down so we can talk.” Carlisle offered us to sit around the table that was in the middle of the ground floor. We each took a seat at the table. “So, may I ask what it is all about? I don’t think I have personally acted in a way to upset the Volturi.”

“No, indirectly, you haven’t.” Jane continued. “We wanted to ask you a few questions regarding (Y/N). We think that you may have heard by now that she has left Volterra.”

“Yes, word came around. I met a few nomads from Europe some time ago, and they told me that (Y/N) left Volterra, probably permanently.”

I tried to suppress a sob that was fighting to leave my throat. Carlisle knew that (Y/N) left, everyone knew that (Y/N) left. They didn’t know she left her mate behind, and they shall never find out that she was my mate. I didn’t even want to think about the possibility of (Y/N) being in danger if anyone found out that we were mates. I had too many targets on my back to risk anything happening to her.

It was my turn to intervene. “Have you seen her? Has she ever come around here?”

Carlisle turned to face me. “I did. Once. She stayed with me for about a year; that was about 6 or 7 years ago. She tracked me through her memories. She has become quite skilled at that.” Demetri and I looked at each other confused. (Y/N) could track as skillfully as Demetri now?

Carlisle continued. “Anyway, she seemed concerned. She told me she had been traveling for quite some time, but she felt like she was missing a piece of herself, of her past. For a few months, she wanted to learn more about me, my job, how I was doing with the whole “animal blood” diet, simple curiosity really. She had been training herself to abstain from human blood, so it was easier for her to go hunt with me. She told me..”

Carlisle turned to look at me now. “She told me about your bond, Felix.” So, she has felt our bond, too! “She told me that she was scared for you, for your safety within the Volturi. She was worried about all of you, but particularly you, Felix. Being her mate means you are basically a target for anyone who wishes to harm (Y/N). She told me she ran away to protect you. As long as no one knew of your bond, you were safe. The traveling and meeting the world was just an extra benefit for her and her gift.”

“Her gift?!” We all exclaimed in unison. (Y/N) never claimed a “gift”, so how could this be possible? Did she lie? Did she even know about her gift?

“Before you say anything, she didn’t even know what her gift was. It is way more complicated than you think. I guess she’d appreciate it if I gave you an idea about it.” Carlisle paused for a few moments. If my heart was beating, I swear it would have stopped by now.

“You know how, for example, Jane, you can induce mental pain, or you, Alec, can restrict anyone’s senses?” The Twins nodded at Carlisle. “Well, (Y/N) can do both, and so much more.” We were kind of shocked. No one has ever had a gift similar to the Twins; that’s why they were in the Volturi. Because they were unique.

“(Y/N)’s gift is copying others’ gifts. That’s why she could also track me; she had copied Demetri’s gift.” Carlisle pointed at Demetri, who looked utterly shocked now.

I would lie if I said I didn’t feel the same way or scared even. I was not scared because of (Y/N); I was scared for (Y/N). This newly-found discovery meant she would be way more important to Aro than we ever thought. He wouldn’t just let her go - not that this was his intention before, but now, she would be even more precious to him and his cause; she would now be the perfect weapon for him to use against other vampires. I had to find her and warn her.

“Do you know where she is now?” My voice came out more stern than I intended it to be.

Carlisle nodded his head slightly. “I may know where she is now. Before she left, she was trying to find out as much as she could about her parents. I assume that was the “missing piece” she was referring to? Anyway, she may be after her parents. I mean they do know her nature better than any of us does. Don’t forget that (Y/N) is half-witch. No one could ever teach her how to be one; only her father could be the one to do so. So, if I stand corrected, she is looking for them. And there’s only one place that (Y/N) has ever linked to her parents.”

“Greece.” Demetri stepped in. Demetri was the only one who could understand (Y/N)’s connection with Greece; it was their birthplace, their origin, their true home.

“Exactly. If you find her parents, you’ll most likely find her. Even if she’s not with them, it will be easier to track her if you have her parents’ assistance.”

We nodded and we stood up. “Thank you for your help, Carlisle. You were most helpful.” Jane spoke for all of us.

“It was my pleasure.” Carlisle led us to the door, but before we left, Jane turned to him one last time. “We think we can trust you that this conversation stays between us.”

“Of course, Jane. Have a safe trip and take care of yourselves.”

“You too.” Alec smiled at Carlisle.

What Carlisle said at the end had me worried for (Y/N). “I hope you find her soon. Her parents never had the best reputation around.” What kind of people was (Y/N)’s family anyway?

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Tracking (Y/N) proved to be way more complicated and debilitating than we thought it would be. We assumed that the closer we were to Greece, the easier it would be for Demetri to pick up her tenor. We were wrong; we were going around blindly, not a clue about (Y/N)’s whereabouts. Even when we finally set our feet on Greek ground, we still didn’t know where to start looking for her. Nobody had a clue where she could be; we didn’t even know her birthplace.

Demetri took it upon him to start his research in a place he knew well enough: Athens. Athens was the capital of Greece’s civilization for many centuries, but, at the time of Demetri’s birth, during the Byzantine times, Constantinople emerged as the center of the Eastern Byzantine Empire, while Rome remained the center of the Western Byzantine Empire.

Athens was not regarded as highly as it used to, during Pericles’ “Golden Century”, as the 5th century BC was known. It still was an important and historical city, but it has lost its title as the “capital” eons ago. The city was taken advantage of by both “allies” and Ottomans and seemed to have lost part of its previous glory. Still, it was beautiful; I may have been quite “old” myself, but I could still admire the history around me.

It reminded of (Y/N)’s stories and books; knowing Ancient Greek history was one of the first things she took an interest in. The fact that she was able to travel to Athens, with or without Aro, quite a few times also developed her fascination regarding the Ancient Greek arts, philosophy, and overall way of living. Of course, it wasn’t easy being a woman then, or ever really, but she was more financially privileged than the average Athenian - vampire wealth had always been an actual thing, and Aro always prided himself to be a “collector” of wealth (and talented vampires for the matter).

We arrived in Greece at a transitional stage; the country has been experiencing a war against the Ottomans for a few years now, and it was evident around the city of Athens. There were many casualties during the war, many damages around the streets, the houses, and there seemed to be a climate of misery and decline.

Yet, the country had recently elected a prime minister, who declared Nafplio, a city in Peloponnese, as Greece’s capital. That was our next stop, as we couldn’t find anything in particular that could indicate (Y/N) being in Athens. Apart from the poor living conditions, the country was experiencing a plague pandemic wave, which killed even more people, but authorities worked hard on containing the cases, and it seemed to have been working.

Still, without a single clue about (Y/N)’s location, the only thing we could do is go around searching for any possible information. We could only travel at night, and hide during the day; Greece, just like Italy, had always been blessed with sunny days, for the majority of a calendar year.

It wasn’t ideal with us being vampires, but Volterra was an ideal strategic location for the Volturi to travel across the vampire and human world, rule, and impose their laws whenever it was needed. Just like always, we now also had to be secretive about our existence.

I thought about how lucky (Y/N) was in that situation; being a non-fully vampire, she didn’t “glow” in the sun like us. She had a more healthy-skin-like glow, a healthy and subtle glow that made me even more attracted to her - if that was even possible. That basically meant that she could technically go anywhere and everywhere; the weather did not affect her, the sun did not affect her.

I started getting frustrated and disappointed. It wasn’t only (Y/N) I had in my mind; apparently, during the years of the Greek Revolution, many vampires, Greek or non-Greek, started secretly fighting to claim territories for themselves.

We knew that it wasn’t part of our duty, but it wouldn’t hurt if we could actually claim Greek land for the Volturi. Having both Italy and Greece under our control could mean more power, more resources, more blood. It only seemed natural; the three Volturi kings were born in Greece, all three of their wives were born in Greece, Demetri and Chelsea were born in Greece. (Y/N) was born in Greece.

Greece could easily become an extension of our territory - Italy was already ours in its entirety - and it would only be the start. It would be easier to control and deal with any possible riots from other covens - the Egyptians and the Romanians in particular. We didn’t fear either of them, but the Romanians have been holding resentment towards the Volturi for a couple thousand years, so anything could be expected from their side at any moment.

I shared my thoughts with the Twins and Demetri. They all agreed that it was a plausible plan; it would show others that the Volturi are still as powerful as they have ever been, and should be feared. Besides, we knew that just the four of us would be able to subjugate any vampire that crossed our paths. With the Twins’ powers, Demetri’s tracking skills, and my strength, it would be impossible for others to resist or challenge us.

We started interrogating any vampire we found wandering or hunting at night; none of them worthy enough to fight us or even gifted enough to join the Volturi. It was quite easy to find the leaders of these “newly-made” covens, or alliances, as they seemed. Because none of them inspired loyalty to each other; none of them was a coven in the sense the Volturi were. They were more like vampires who came together to fight for territory control; I doubt if they would even manage to stay together for one more day. They did not only lack loyalty towards their "leaders", but also discipline, principles, and basic rules of survival and solidarity towards the other members.

It was quite easy to take over any “coven” in Southern Greece, including the island of Crete. We started moving north, taking over the territories of Thessaly and Epirus, something which the Greek humans did not manage to acquire from the Ottomans yet. We were to take over Macedonia and Thrace next, but we were met with an unexpected obstacle.

Every vampire we would interrogate regarding these two territories would say the same thing: none of them knew who owned them, but whoever tried to claim the territories never returned back, dead or alive. The mystery that surrounded the person or people behind the leadership of these areas made their skin crawl; they all refused to “help” us any further, no matter how much Jane, Alec, and I tried, which made me kind of worried, or more like curious, but I didn’t want to show any weakness or let them question my effectiveness.

Every one of them was just a “normal” vampire; we were better, stronger, gifted, and we have proved that we can bring results every single time. No other vampire has ever dared go against us; we wouldn’t allow them to question us now either.

We continued traveling up north, determined to face whoever it was behind the territories there. I didn’t pay attention to the slight pain in my guts as we were traveling through the country, but it was becoming more and more intense as we continued going north.

We didn’t know how we would find the vampires behind this “operation”, so our plan would be to act in any way possible to provoke them into coming out of their “hiding spot”. For a few days, we were rummaging any small village we could find, killing the villagers and draining them of their blood - not a very “Volturi tactic" may I say. We were supposed to hide our existence, not challenge our luck by killing so many people; yet, this was the only way we thought that could possibly lurk the vampires out of their “comfort zone”.

As we were traveling through Macedonia, we came across a rather developed town, compared to the villages we have seen before. The city was surrounded by tall stone walls. There were a few rivers on its western side, forests and mountains on its northeastern side, and swamps and marshes on its southern side. We couldn’t hunt freely here, at least not during daylight; there was no way we would go unnoticed if we started hunting anywhere in the area. We decided to run through the forests, see if there was a place we could stay for a while; if there was a human or more we could feed off of; if there was a sign of the vampires or (Y/N).

During the last few weeks, I’ve been thinking that our mission has been more about expanding our power and influence, and not as much about locating (Y/N). Actually, it felt more like locating (Y/N) was more of an afterthought now. We lost the purpose of our mission; the reason we came together all along.

It wasn’t as if we would actually be directly benefiting by the territories we claimed; we were still working on behalf of the Volturi. We didn’t ask the kings to claim Greek territories; yet, we did, because we felt obliged to consider their own good once again, this time at the expense of finding (Y/N). Once again, we became the victims of the influence they had on us, and we played their game.

“Why are we even doing this?” I yelled frustratedly. My friends turned to look at me.

“What do you mean, Felix?” Jane seemed slightly annoyed. “We’ve come here to claim the territories, to show these savages who the boss is here.”

“No, Jane, they are not savages, we didn’t come here to claim territories, and we don’t have to show them “who is the boss”. They already know that the Volturi rule the vampire world. No. No. We came here to search for (Y/N). Not to “claim territories”. Not to “show them”. We came here for (Y/N). We..We lost our purpose. We lost the true meaning of our mission. We just started claiming the land for the Volturi, for Aro. We..We forgot about her.”

My eyes were stinking with venom. I felt weak, I felt as if I betrayed her. I promised to myself that I would bring her back home, that I would protect her. It’s been so long and we still haven’t found her. We just kept wasting time on things that shouldn’t matter to us. We should not care about expanding our influence, our territory, our power. We should care about bringing the Princess back.

Jane lowered her head apologetically. “I’m sorry, Felix. I didn’t know you felt this way. I have to admit it though; we did lose track of time and we forgot about the actual purpose of this mission. We once again forgot that (Y/N) has always been way more important than any power in the world. I’m sorry. We all are. I promised you we’ll start searching for her right away, okay?”

I nodded affirmatively. We had to find (Y/N) as soon as possible. We were not only running out of time but also out of hope that (Y/N) was in Greece or anywhere else, that she was alive. We got so distracted by our conversation that we didn’t notice we were being watched until we all started screaming in pain. I fell on my knees, the pain on the back of my head unbearable, and that’s when I blacked out.

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I didn’t know how much time passed being unconscious. It felt like a new sensation to me; being a bit over 2000 years old, I haven’t lost my senses once - except for the times Alec liked to play games on me. I didn’t feel like myself; it didn’t feel right. I didn’t like being restricted of my senses, especially now, especially here, in an unknown place. My mind was blurry and I couldn’t see anything distinct around me; I couldn’t see almost anything. I tried to move my hands around but I couldn’t as if the tightest rope in the world was holding me in place.

“No need to fight, sweetheart.” I heard a woman’s voice. “There is no way to escape.”

“Who are you? Why am I here? Where are the others?”

“Felix? Is that you?” I heard Demetri’s voice on my right.

“Demetri? Is that you? Where are Jane and Alec?”

“I am here.” I heard Alec’s voice on my left.

“Me too." Jane replied.

“Alexandre, please, I cannot start with this again.”

Suddenly, I could see again. I was still physically restricted, but my eyes could see them crystal clear and my mind was in order once again. The woman in front of me was very imposing, though of average size. Her long, curly hair framed her face beautifully and her piercing red eyes were piercing through my soul. The man standing next to her was only a few centimeters taller; he had short, straight hair, and his eyes were looking between the four of us sternly. Who were they even? Why were we even here? Why us? As if she read my mind, a woman spoke to me.

“Oh, deary. We’re not going to tell you who we are. But you are going to tell us what you, Volturi guards, are doing in our territory!”

“How do you know who we are?” I exclaimed. Of course, everyone knew the Volturi as the authority of the vampire world, but not all vampires around here have ever met us specifically, or any other member of the coven for the matter.

“Your crest, dear. I have known that crest for far too long. Way before you were even born. I see that dear Aro never changed it. He does like to remain in his same, old ways after all. Never changing, never moving forward, still imposing his “laws”, I’m assuming?” The woman seemed to know way far about the Volturi and Aro. She became a danger for our coven, from the moment she and the man abducted us. She should have never done that; they both would be punished for their actions.

“Dear, I won’t get punished..for anything. You, on the other hand, are in a pretty difficult situation. You see, my husband and I are not going to let you get away until you tell us why you are here.”

“Pain.” I heard Jane saying. The woman turned to look at her but she didn’t even flinch. I heard Jane screaming in return.

“Oh, sweetheart. Your powers won’t work on either of us. You see, I am a shield, so don’t even try to hurt us. On the contrary, WE can hurt you just as much, if not more.” The woman smiled evilly, while Jane was writhing in pain.

“Please, stop hurting my sister.” Alec pleaded, unable to use his gift against the couple.

“So, you are the “Terror Twins”. Alec and Jane, I see.” The woman knew their nickname? “Oh, yes, I do, dear.” She turned to look at me. “You see, I was once part of the Volturi. Technically, still am. However, I left, way before any of you joined the coven. To put it into perspective, I was there when Didyme lived but I left way before she was killed. Dear Marcus has never been the same ever since. I still feel somewhat of a connection to the coven, though I am able to make my own decisions because I managed to escape them. We were actually passing by Volterra a few times. I wonder how you never noticed us, though our powers would practically make us mentally invisible from Demetri, over here, or any other vampire, really.”

She knew Demetri, too?

“Felix, dear, I know all of you and about you. You see, my dear daughter has a special connection with all of you, a kind of friendship neither my husband, nor I quite understand. It wasn’t easy for her to keep her memories secret; though she is an amazing shield - which makes me so proud, she is kind of “vulnerable” when she is sleeping. And my husband’s magic is quite strong and easy to penetrate her mind and memories when she does eventually sleep.”

Her daughter? Could that be…?

“WHERE IS SHE?” The question slipped out of my mouth without even thinking about it first.

My anger could not be controlled right now. I was pushing myself to my limits to break my fetters, to no avail. Were that woman and that man (Y/N)’s parents? I started making some connections here and there; they looked similar to (Y/N), though so different at the same time. Their immortality, their red eyes, their confidence, and their aggression did not remind me of (Y/N). She had a pure face, a face of kindness, she was not like them.

“You think so? Alexandre, can you please call (Y/N), agapi mou?” The woman turned to the man, and the man started moving his fingers in front of him, creating some sort of a wave around him.

Within a few seconds, the door burst open and the first thing I saw was a red silky fabric flowing around the air. When the fabric settled down slowly, I saw her for the first time after so long. She has changed..a lot. Her (Y/E/C) eyes were replaced by piercing red ones, with a slight hint of (Y/E/C) around the pupils. Her eyes apathetic and stern; her facial features more defined; her hair reached a little below her shoulders, straight and shiny, like her father’s. She still looked as beautiful as ever.

She stared at us, focusing her eyes mostly on me. Her heartbeat sounded steady and strong. I was relieved; she was still human, they had not turned her fully vampire yet. She took a few steps farther into the house, her feet bare but surprisingly clean, no dirt, no grass had stained them. She stood right beside the woman, who I now knew was her mother and Aro’s daughter.

“What are they doing here?” Her voice came out stern, yet it was music to my ears.

I missed her voice so much. I missed her so much. Our mate bond, weakened by the distance and time spent apart, slowly started forming again. I felt it; I felt my existence becoming meaningful again. I felt my breath hitching in my throat, her presence provoking so many different feelings and emotions inside me. However, she still seemed cold and distant, and I couldn’t quite read her face. Did she not feel the same? Has she forgotten me? Does she hate me now?

I saw her gaze getting softer, even compassionate? She approached me and bent down slightly, placing her left hand carefully on my right cheek. She stared deeply into my eyes and I closed mine, leaning on her touch. It was the purest moment I have experienced in my 2000 years of life.

I opened my eyes and stared at her. I saw golden flakes scattered in between the red in her eyes. Once again, she took my breath away. It felt as if I fell in love with her all over again, a unique feeling of refreshment. We were lost in our own little world. She smiled slightly at me, the first time she did after such a long time.

“Enough! (Y/N) get away from him, now!” (Y/N) was forcefully removed away from me by her mother. She was looking at me pleadingly and then turned to look at her parents with such hatred. I’ve never seen her like this ever again, not even with Aro.

“YOU. WILL. NOT. TELL. ME. WHAT. TO. DO!” If looks could kill, (Y/N)’s parents would be dead by now. Her hands started lighting up, bright purple flames rising up. She was trying to intimidate her parents, but neither of them looked concerned in the slightest. She turned to us and with a dance-like move of her hand, we were finally freed of our fetters.

It was her father’s turn to speak. “(Y/N), let’s take this outside.” With a jerking motion of his hand, we all found ourselves, outside, in their house’s front yard.

“They’ve come to take you back to Volterra, back to Aro! Don’t you see it? They don’t care about you! They just want to please their master.” The words came bitter out of her mouth. She had a clear resentment towards the Volturi. “I will not let them take you away from me! Not again!”

“I know, mother, I’ve read their minds, too. Yet, I don’t see why YOU seem to think that you can make the decisions for me. I am my own self. I can make decisions for myself. And I get to choose what I do with my life.” (Y/N)’s voice was certain, powerful, in control. “They are not bad people, mother. They just have to follow orders, just like you followed Aro’s orders, just like I followed yours. That’s not going to happen anymore. I am taking control of my life!”

The sweet, little girl I got to see my whole life was becoming a strong, powerful woman right in front of my eyes. She was radiating power; she was taking control of her life. She was..my everything. She was becoming independent, her own self. To say I was proud of her, would be an understatement. She has always been special, but this newly-found power has clearly given her way more confidence and trust in herself.

She would finally be able to rule the Volturi. If she decided to come back to Volterra, she could definitely take over the coven. No one would be able to resist her or her gift. My thoughts were quickly interrupted when her dad started shouting in Greek.

Demetri, who was standing right next to me, saw the look of total confusion in my eyes. “I’ll translate for you.” I nodded at him. “So, her father says: Enough with this nonsense, (Y/N). Your place is here, with us. You owe us; we taught you what you needed to know about your magic. We taught you how to use it, how to develop it. You didn’t know enough to defend yourself back then.”

“Now, (Y/N) says: I don’t owe you anything. Yes, you did teach me how to use my magic, which I inherited from you. But, you gave me away to Aro. You couldn’t defend me or yourselves against him. You just offered me to him, as if I was a present for his birthday or something.”

“Now, her mother says: You, at least, owe it to yourself to get away from these tyrants. You know they don’t deserve you, so why are you still defending him? It’s that man, isn’t it? Now, (Y/N) says: That man has a name. Now, her mom says: You know, his name means “lucky”, "happy" in Greek. Yet, he hasn’t been that lucky or happy at all, has he? We read his mind, (Y/N), he’s not worthy of you.”

“Now, (Y/N) says: Guess what? I have also read his mind, and I have also read the two of you, as well. Don’t you think that it is only you who can read my mind while I’m sleeping! I’ve been reading your minds any chance I get! I know how you’ve been planning to use me, as a weapon against the Volturi! Guess again! I’m not going to let you manipulate me anymore! And that man deserves EVERYTHING in this world!”

“ENOUGH!” Her father shouted and threw a dark red glowing sphere, hitting (Y/N) and knocking her on the ground. My heart dropped at the sight, but she quickly stood up and gathered so much energy in her own hands, attacking her father with a powerful hit.

He got wounded, his face slightly cracked from his forehead to his jaw, yet he didn’t give up. He was about to attack her once again when his wife stopped him. She was looking at me and nodded to her husband. I heard (Y/N) screaming, but I didn’t make out what she was saying, as I started screaming myself and felt myself getting tossed in the air. Then, everything went black once again.