#then you think about possible translations

[hunieday]

Green Bubble - Shuffle unit Event Story Translation

Please note that I am not a professional translator and I'm only doing this to share the side materials to those who cannot access them, if you notice any mistakes please let me know nicely. Enjoy!

Rokuya Nagi: HIII, everyone! Have you tried "GREEN BUBBLE" yet?

Yotsuba Tamaki: It's us! We are "GREEN BUBBLE"!

Isumi Haruka: It is! right!

Kujo Tenn: That’s right.

Kujo Tenn: "GREEN BUBBLE" is the new product from "Jyuurokugumi" as well as our unit name.

Rokuya Nagi: Yes! "GREEN BUBBLE"!

Yotsuba Tamaki: Pop! Pop! Pop!

Kujo Tenn: What are you doing.

Yotsuba Tamaki: It's the bubble popping dance!

Rokuya Nagi: OH! Pop! Pop!

Yotsuba Tamaki: Ready, everyone~!

Isumi Haruka: Huh!? Pop...

Kujo Tenn: Excuse me. Can we proceed properly?

Yotsuba Tamaki: Oh, yes...

Kujo Tenn: It's a wonderful new product as well as an introduction to our unit, so I'd like to do it properly.

Isumi Haruka: See, we got scolded! I was gonna do it properly too!

Rokuya Nagi: OH! We're not fooling around! It's a wonderful performance! Let's do it together!

Rokuya Nagi: 3, 2, 1...

GREEN BUBBLE: Pop! Pop! Pop!

Isumi Haruka: Wow... Kujo Tenn joined in too...

Yotsuba Tamaki: Don’t you know? Tenn-Tenn’s the kind of character who'd join in stuff like this more than you think he would.

Kujo Tenn: Wait, Yotsuba-san, don't lean your arm on my shoulder.

Yotsuba Tamaki: What about my chin?

Kujo Tenn: Your face is close, too close.

Isumi Haruka: Huh!? Aren't you guys too close!? Is this how it is between you two!?

Yotsuba Tamaki: That's right.

Isumi Haruka: Awesome...

Kujo Tenn: What do you mean awesome?

Yotsuba Tamaki: Isumin, won’t it be cool if you and Nagicchi got close too?

Isumi Haruka: ...! T-that's true, but I heard he might look friendly, but actually be quite closed off.

Rokuya Nagi: OH... Who on earth told you that? That’s a huge misunderstanding.

Isumi Haruka: Um... an acquaintance of mine...

Rokuya Nagi: Well that acquaintance of yours met me in the worst possible way and doesn’t wanna listen to what I want to say.

Rokuya Nagi: The door to my heart in front of you, Isumi-shi, is wide open. Please, come on in.

Isumi Haruka: Alright, well... I'm intruding.

Yotsuba Tamaki: Isumin is inside Nagi's heart right now.

Isumi Haruka: Maybe, yeah...?

Yotsuba Tamaki: Ha. What's it like?

Isumi Haruka: What's it like!? What’s it like uh, um...!? How am I even supposed to answer that!?

Isumi Haruka: It's……uh….. it... it smells nice...?

Yotsuba Tamaki: ...huh...

Rokuya Nagi: ...OH...

Isumi Haruka:.... Stop acting like I bombed a joke!!

Kujo Tenn: Moving on, it's the "8th anniversary! Four Thanks Project!”

Isumi Haruka: Wait, hold on...!

Kujo Tenn: As part of the limited-time unit formation celebration, the "Ask This and That!?" edition.

Kujo Tenn: Let’s get the "GREEN BUBBLE" version started.

Kujo Tenn: Everyone, please support us! Don't let the other units sway you.

Yotsuba Tamaki: Because we're the best, right!?

Rokuya Nagi: Yes! It's really, totally lonely to be separated from the other IDOLiSH7 members, but...

Yotsuba Tamaki: I'm here!

Rokuya Nagi: Tamaki! I love you!

Kujo Tenn: Don't get too cozy. I'm a member now too.

Yotsuba Tamaki: I love you!

Rokuya Nagi: I LOVE YOU!

Kujo Tenn: What about you, Isumi-san?

Isumi Haruka: ...I don't really understand that but!

Isumi Haruka: I hope you love me! Love us! Love this unit, and love "GREEN BUBBLE"!

Kujo Tenn & Yotsuba Tamaki & Rokuya Nagi: Yay!!

Isumi Haruka: W-was that okay? Is it alright?

Yotsuba Tamaki: Don’t worry, it was alright! So cool!

Rokuya Nagi: It was cool!

Kujo Tenn: Well then, let’s read what the staff have to say...

Isumi Haruka: He-... wait! You bastard didn’t tell me your impression yet.

Kujo Tenn: Bastard?

Isumi Haruka: Ah. sorry... your impression, Kujo-san...

Kujo Tenn: It was cool. Your straightforward message opened the door to my heart too.

Rokuya Nagi: OH...! You used the door to your heart! Excellent utilization!

Isumi Haruka: Kujo Tenn said I was cool...

Kujo Tenn: Are you embarrassed?

Isumi Haruka: No. It feels great...

Kujo Tenn: Ah, I see.

Isumi Haruka: I made Kujo Tenn say I was cool...

Kujo Tenn: You’d be cute if you blushed because of me too.

Yotsuba Tamaki: It’s true. Nagicchi you smell nice.

Rokuya Nagi: Tamaki smells nice too! Hm... Is this vanilla?

Yotsuba Tamaki: Bingo! I licked some vanilla extract.

Isumi Haruka: Why!?

Kujo Tenn: You're not supposed to lick it, you know!?

Yotsuba Tamaki: Mikki was trying to make something, and it was on the table.

Yotsuba Tamaki: He drops some on the palm of his hand like this, but it's not that sweet. I fall for it every time.

Isumi Haruka: That's true! His hands smell like vanilla!

Yotsuba Tamaki: Sou-chan finds out every time I do this.

Kujo Tenn: Do you get scolded?

Yotsuba Tamaki: Used to.

Rokuya Nagi: And now?

Yotsuba Tamaki: He says it’s kinda soothing.

Kujo Tenn: You've grown stronger, Osaka-san...

Isumi Haruka: But this might be good when you're hungry.

Yotsuba Tamaki: You turn it into a trend amongst ZOOL.

Isumi Haruka: Got it. I’ll make it a trend within the group first, then make it go viral.

Yotsuba Tamaki: You better credit me when it goes viral.

Kujo Tenn: Smart move.

Rokuya Nagi: Please make my fragrance a trend after that.

Isumi Haruka: Impossible, it sounds too expensive!

Rokuya Nagi: No, no. It's reasonably priced.

Kujo Tenn: I don't think it's all that out of reach. It's a collaboration perfume with Kokona-chan.

Yotsuba Tamaki: How do you know that, Tenntenn!?

Kujo Tenn: Just a little bit of knowledge.

Rokuya Nagi: Welcome to my world.

Isumi Haruka: Somehow we seem to be getting along mysteriously well?! aren't we!

Kujo Tenn: That's a fitting response. Actually, we received a question from the staff.

Kujo Tenn: "Do you guys get along well?"

Isumi Haruka: Perfect timing!

Yotsuba Tamaki: We do!

Rokuya Nagi: We're friends!

Kujo Tenn: We're get along well. Let's continue with the "Ask This and That!?" shuffle talk.

Yotsuba Tamaki: Yes! Then, let's ask other questions!

Kujo Tenn: Yes.

Rokuya Nagi: Yay!

Isumi Haruka: Yeah.

Yotsuba Tamaki: Oh! I’m your MC, Yotsuba Tamaki!

Isumi Haruka: What are you laughing at. Can you even do it properly?

Yotsuba Tamaki: I can! Everyone! Cheer me on!

Rokuya Nagi: Tamaki, fight!

Kujo Tenn: Do your best!

Yotsuba Tamaki: Alright! So who's up first? Isumin?

Isumi Haruka: Huh!? You’re the one who chooses!?

Yotsuba Tamaki: I'm the MC so I'm the king, right!?

Isumi Haruka: That’s not how it works!?

Kujo Tenn: A dangerous person is taking the initiative.

Yotsuba Tamaki: You don’t get it! Maybe that person’s nervous! What should I do, Nagi!?

Rokuya Nagi: Relax, it's okay. Just face that camera and give us some fan service.

Yotsuba Tamaki: Huh!? Fan service!?

Yotsuba Tamaki: Yay!

Yotsuba Tamaki: Wink!

Rokuya Nagi: Wow! So cool!

Yotsuba Tamaki: I calmed down for some reason...

Isumi Haruka: Doing fan service calms you down.

Kujo Tenn: As expected of an idol. That was splendid.

Rokuya Nagi: Isumi-shi, did a question come to your mind right now?

Isumi Haruka: Um, n... not yet!?

Rokuya Nagi: Well then, may I ask a question?

Kujo Tenn: Oh, clever.

Isumi Haruka: You’re so kind!

Yotsuba Tamaki: Nagicchi, you're so mature!!

Rokuya Nagi: Fufufu. Yes. Mitsuki gave me a secret mission yesterday.

Yotsuba Tamaki: What's that!? Did Mikki say something to you?

Rokuya Nagi: Yes.

Yotsuba Tamaki: Try saying it Mikki-style!

Rokuya Nagi: OK.

Rokuya Nagi: Listen, Nagi.

Kujo Tenn: Are unreasonable requests the norm in Ainana?

Isumi Haruka: Scary...

Rokuya Nagi: You guys are the only shuffle units that consists of only teenagers.

Yotsuba Tamaki: Oh, he’s right!

Isumi Haruka: Seriously! Kujo-san, did you notice?!

Kujo Tenn: I sure did.

Rokuya Nagi: You’re the oldest in that group of teenagers, so you gotta be the best brother.

Rokuya Nagi: You gotta protect everyone and be a good leader!

Yotsuba Tamaki: Leader! Nagicchi, you're the leader!? So that's why you supported me!

Rokuya Nagi: Yes! As long as everyone is okay with it, I'll be the leader of this unit!

Yotsuba Tamaki: That's totally fine right?!

Isumi Haruka: Yeah! Izumi's brother is so kind too!

Kujo Tenn: Yes, that's right. We’ll be in your care, Rokuya-san.

Rokuya Nagi: Thanks!

Rokuya Nagi: So if I'm the leader, then I'm practically a king...

Isumi Haruka: Hm!? I heard that line somewhere before!?

Kujo Tenn: You're also a dangerous person.

Yotsuba Tamaki: I know this one! You usurped me!!

Rokuya Nagi: Alright! Let's do it! Please answer this upcoming question!

Rokuya Nagi: Which idol, other than the members of your own group, would respond to your rabbit chat right away?

Yotsuba Tamaki: Other than our own group... You mean other than the members of this unit, right? Not IDOLiSH7?

Isumi Haruka: So, other than… the members of ŹOOḼ!?

Kujo Tenn: You mean someone from another idol group than TRIGGER?

Rokuya Nagi: Yes.

Yotsuba Tamaki: Sounds interesting! I wonder who would respond immediately!?

Isumi Haruka: Huh? You mean we’re gonna text someone right here and now!?

Yotsuba Tamaki: Yes yes! Other than members of our own groups!

Isumi Haruka: Huhhh...?

Kujo Tenn: ...

Yotsuba Tamaki: What’s up with you two, why so serious? I’m sure there's at least one guy who’d respond, right?

Yotsuba Tamaki: Especially Tenntenn, he's a guaranteed winner, right!? Anyone would be happy to get a rabbichat from you!

Kujo Tenn: Too risky. It's dangerous precisely because they'd be happy. ...But well, understood.

Isumi Haruka: Understood means you figured it out? Huh!? Who?

Kujo Tenn: It's a secret. Have you decided?

Isumi Haruka: Have I...

Isumi Haruka: There's only one person, do you think they’d respond..?

Yotsuba Tamaki: Huh? Why are you asking me? Oh...! Ah…

Isumi Haruka: Yotsuba, did you want to text them?

Yotsuba Tamaki: No, they're from my group. It's fine, I'll give it to Isumin.

Isumi Haruka: Okay, then I'll take this one.

Yotsuba Tamaki: "Take this one", that’s hilarious. They’re probably gonna reply now.

Isumi Haruka: Awesome!

Rokuya Nagi: Oh... It's a private conversation...

Kujo Tenn: I think I know who Isumi-san is referring to.

Yotsuba Tamaki: What should I do... Oh, Tenntenn.

Kujo Tenn: What?

Yotsuba Tamaki: ...Is the big guy working right now?

Kujo Tenn: .........The big guy is working right now.

Yotsuba Tamaki: Oh, too bad!

Isumi Haruka: I get why you’re talking like that but... who could it be...?

Rokuya Nagi: The big guy might be available. He mentioned that the shoot was interrupted due to rain earlier.

Yotsuba Tamaki: Huh? How do you know?

Rokuya Nagi: He just sent me a photo a moment ago. It's a late-blooming cherry blossom.

Isumi Haruka: Cherry blossoms...

Kujo Tenn: Ah... Thank you very much for your help that day.

Rokuya Nagi: Likewise. I was able to witness your wonderful stage.

Rokuya Nagi: It’s a memory I will cherish forever. Thank you very much.

Kujo Tenn: It's an honor. I'm genuinely happy from the bottom of my heart.

Yotsuba Tamaki: Isumin, you probably don't know. Nagi helped a lot with the "Zero" musical.

Rokuya Nagi: I didn't do anything. We just talked about memories.

Rokuya Nagi: The big guy turned those memories into a magnificent performance and created an unprecedented piece of art.

Kujo Tenn: I’m glad to hear that... I’m sure Ryuu will be delighted to hear that too.

Yotsuba Tamaki: You just said his name.

Kujo Tenn: Ah, sorry.

Yotsuba Tamaki: It was so obvious. Well then, should I try sending a rabbichat to the big guy since we might get an answer?

Isumi Haruka: Doesn't that ruin the surprise? You should go for someone else.

Yotsuba Tamaki: Nah, the person Isumin’s targeting ain’t really a surprise anymore, right?

Kujo Tenn: I don’t think you’d be able to guess who I’m choosing.

Yotsuba Tamaki: It’s definitely the first person.

Isumi Haruka: Who did you choose? Isn't it that person?

Rokuya Nagi: If it's that person, I think they'll respond right away.

Kujo Tenn: I think they’re quite different from who you all are imagining.

Yotsuba Tamaki: Huh!? Who!?

Rokuya Nagi: OH! The person I’m imagining is definitely waiting for a chat from Kujo-shi!

Kujo Tenn: Sorry, but there are plenty of people waiting for a rabbichat from me.

Yotsuba Tamaki: There it is! The little devil!

Kujo Tenn: Can I send it now?

Rokuya Nagi: Please go ahead.

Isumi Haruka: Who is it!?

Kujo Tenn: I wonder if they’ll respond... Oh, they've already seen it.

Kujo Tenn: They responded quickly! Oh, they also sent a photo.

Yotsuba Tamaki: Who? Who is it?

Kujo Tenn: Momo-san.

Rokuya Nagi & Isumi Haruka: Oh!

Kujo Tenn: "Good luck with the recording!" he said. He sent a selfie with Yuki-san.

Rokuya Nagi: OH! It's a tulip field!

Isumi Haruka: What are they doing? They're holding a big picnic basket and a shovel.

Yotsuba Tamaki: Are they on location or something?

Kujo Tenn: He says it’s their day off today.

Isumi Haruka: What the hell are Re:vale doing...

Yotsuba Tamaki: He sent more messages! Read them all.

Kujo Tenn: Do we really need to?

Yotsuba Tamaki: You better read them! Momorin sent them to you!

Kujo Tenn: …

Kujo Tenn: "Tenn-chan really wuvs me lots mwah mwah, I’m with darling right now but I will give you my wuv too!"

Rokuya Nagi: In other words, the direct translation is "You seem to like me, but since I'm with my most beloved right now, I'll share some of my love with you."

Kujo Tenn: Am I being rejected?

Yotsuba Tamaki: That's hilarious!

Kujo Tenn: But thank you for your reply, Re:vale-san.

Yotsuba Tamaki: It's a shame Re:vale’s not in this unit. I’m happy we could mingle!

Isumi Haruka: Aren’t you being too casual with your seniors!?

Yotsuba Tamaki: It’s fine!

Kujo Tenn: Who's going next?

Isumi Haruka: Oh! I'll go.

Isumi Haruka: Please… Please respond...

Isumi Haruka: …

Kujo Tenn & Yotsuba Tamaki & Rokuya Nagi: ..........

Isumi Haruka: Huh, there’s still no read receipt...

Yotsuba Tamaki: Damn it! Nagicchi, isn't our number one person free right now?

Rokuya Nagi: Our number one person is at school today.

Yotsuba Tamaki: But isn't it lunchtime?

Isumi Haruka: Maybe they're busy…?

Kujo Tenn: What should we do? Wait for a response?

Yotsuba Tamaki: Hmm... Is there no one else, Isumin?

Isumi Haruka: Huh!? They're not here! Can I not text ŹOOḼ!?

Yotsuba Tamaki: Nope.

Isumi Haruka: I don't have any other friends Besides ŹOOḼ...

Kujo Tenn: If I were in a different unit I would have responded right away.

Isumi Haruka: Huh!? That's... Stop teasing me, you little devil! Don't say things that'll get my hopes up!!

Kujo Tenn: But it's true?

Isumi Haruka: Huuhh!? You're embarrassing me…! Wait, don't take a picture.

Kujo Tenn: Hehe...

Yotsuba Tamaki: Good for you, Isumin.

Rokuya Nagi: That’s a page of youth.

Isumi Haruka: What should I do, though...do we wait for Izumi’s reply? Ah. I said his name.

Yotsuba Tamaki: Then you can use my partner!

Isumi Haruka: Th-the one that starts with "O"!?

Yotsuba Tamaki: Yup. The three of us talked in a group chat before. They'll respond right away now.

Isumi Haruka: Wait, hold on. I'm nervous... What should I say...

Rokuya Nagi: Why don’t you send a sticker?

Isumi Haruka: A sticker!?

Yotsuba Tamaki: Remember the dinosaur one? The one where the dinosaur breaks the door. That one's good.

Isumi Haruka: Why!? That’s so rude outta nowhere!?

Yotsuba Tamaki: Maybe they'll feel a connection.

Rokuya Nagi: The gaogao dinosaur is so cute! I like T-kun too.

Isumi Haruka: Oh... Thanks. I kinda... like T-kun too.

Rokuya Nagi: Yay! He’s one of us.

Isumi Haruka: This person looks flashy, but they're nice... Alright, I'll send this sticker.

Yotsuba Tamaki: Go for it!

Kujo Tenn: Will it show as read?

Isumi Haruka: It did!

Yotsuba Tamaki: What did they say? what did Sou-chan say?

Isumi Haruka: Um…

Isumi Haruka:  "Thank you for your help. What a cheerful dinosaur. If this was sent by mistake, no need to reply."

Kujo Tenn: He’s so serious.

Yotsuba Tamaki: Ahahaha! Sou-chan, that's hilarious.

Isumi Haruka: It sure is...

Yotsuba Tamaki: So?

Isumi Haruka: S-So what?

Yotsuba Tamaki: What did you think?

Isumi Haruka: He kinda…He  used a lot of polite language and seemed very kind...

Yotsuba Tamaki: Ah, yeah, that's true. I'll tell him that you called him kind.

Kujo Tenn: No, this is being recorded.

Yotsuba Tamaki: Oh, right. Everything’s being filmed! Man, now I'm kinda embarrassed!

Rokuya Nagi: There's nothing to be embarrassed about. Just give that camera some fan service.

Yotsuba Tamaki: Yay! No need to reply!

Kujo Tenn: Should you really be saying that line with that smug look on your face?

Isumi Haruka: Haa... Anyways, I’m clear for now. Hm? This isn’t a mission, is it?

Rokuya Nagi: Yes! It’s nothing more than simple question.

Kujo Tenn: Last but not least, Yotsuba. Who are you sending the rabbichat to?

Yotsuba Tamaki: The big guy from TRIGGER. Everyone, gather around a bit.

Rokuya Nagi: Are you sending a photo?

Yotsuba Tamaki: Yup. Look at the screen.

Kujo Tenn: A rare group photo.

Isumi Haruka: Oh... I kinda want this photo too...

Yotsuba Tamaki: I’ll send it to you. Alrighty, let's do this on the count of three...

Rokuya Nagi: Yay! Click.

Yotsuba Tamaki: Nice! One more time. Click.

Yotsuba Tamaki: Thanks. I'll send it now!

Isumi Haruka: Let me see. How is it?

Kujo Tenn: It's a nice photo, isn't it?

Isumi Haruka: Amazing! Great photo! It really feels like we're friends!

Rokuya Nagi: I'm happy! Another precious photo to add to the collection!

Kujo Tenn: I wonder if Ryuu saw it?

Yotsuba Tamaki: He saw it and... Oh, he already replied!

Yotsuba Tamaki: "Thanks for the photo. Your shoot seems to be going well. I'm having lunch right now."

Yotsuba Tamaki: ...And he sent a photo of his lunch!

Rokuya Nagi: OH... Why didn't he just send a selfie?

Isumi Haruka: Looks delicious! I like this pink furikake-like sweet thing! (1)

Kujo Tenn: It's sakuradafu, isn't it? (2)

Isumi Haruka: Cherry blossoms?

Kujo Tenn: No, it's supposed to be fish paste.

Isumi Haruka: Fish!?

Yotsuba Tamaki: I’m glad we got a reply! I'll thank Ryuu-aniki for the photo!

Kujo Tenn: Okay.

Isumi Haruka: Are we finally done with the first question?

Rokuya Nagi: Sorry. I made it a difficult question.

Isumi Haruka: It's okay, it was fun! So, can I ask the next question? I think it'll be quick!

Yotsuba Tamaki: Sure.

Kujo Tenn: Go ahead.

Isumi Haruka: Um, so, how do you guys feel about your managers?

Kujo Tenn: Our manager? I've known them for a long time, they're someone I can trust.

Isumi Haruka: Like a family member?

Kujo Tenn: It’s a bit different than that. I consider them one of the most important members of TRIGGER who’s not visible to the public.

Kujo Tenn: It’s most likely the same for Gaku and Ryuu?

Isumi Haruka: Ha...that’s great.

Isumi Haruka: What about you guys, Yotsuba?

Yotsuba Tamaki: We get along really well. They're super nice, super funny, and super cool. 

Isumi Haruka: I get it, MEZZO”’s manager is so cool.

Rokuya Nagi: IDOLiSH7’s manager is also very kind and very sincere. They always listen to me.

Isumi Haruka: They always listen to you huh, do you talk to them about stuff other than work?

Rokuya Nagi: Sometimes we ask them for advice, but we also chat like friends.

Isumi Haruka: I see...

Yotsuba Tamaki: Why this question?

Isumi Haruka: It's just... You know, ŹOOḼ has a manager.

Yotsuba Tamaki: Duh.

Isumi Haruka: And, in this project, the four members of ŹOOḼ were shuffled into four different units, right?

Isumi Haruka: And each of us went to record songs and shoot music videos for those units.

Yotsuba Tamaki: Yepyep.

Isumi Haruka: So... I wish I didn’t, but I ended up asking which song they liked the most?

Rokuya Nagi: What was the response?

Isumi Haruka: "Good Good Games."

Kujo Tenn＆Yotsuba Tamaki＆Rokuya Nagi: Oh...

Isumi Haruka: “Oh” right!? It's like, you know! The manager’s face changed to worry as soon as he replied...!

Yotsuba Tamaki: That's not cool...

Isumi Haruka: Right!? It feels like they're not mine anymore, you know!?

Rokuya Nagi: I sense some jealousy here.

Isumi Haruka: Touma was happy then suddenly felt a bit uneasy. Minami, Torao and I just acted like nothing happened.

Isumi Haruka: Well, it's my fault for asking!

Kujo Tenn: Personal preferences are personal preferences, so it's okay. It's different from who they value the most.

Kujo Tenn: I understand why you'd feel complicated.

Yotsuba Tamaki: Does it happen with TRIGGER?

Kujo Tenn: We've been together for a long time, so we understand our manager's preferences.

Kujo Tenn: But we still feel a drive to compete with each other, as if we want to be chosen by them.

Isumi Haruka: Why are you not shaken up? I get upset and depressed easily…

Yotsuba Tamaki: No, I get why you feel that way. I’d be depressed if my manager told me Sou-chan was better.

Rokuya Nagi: I also want my manager to praise me first...

Kujo Tenn: Isn't that fine? That just means you have a good relationship.

Isumi Haruka: Are you sure!? Aren't you internally sighing at how childish we are!?

Kujo Tenn: It's fine, right? We're all kids.

Yotsuba Tamaki: What's up, Tenntenn!? Aren't you being a bit lenient!? Is it because the camera's still rolling!

Isumi Haruka: Ah, the camera...

Kujo Tenn: Come on.

Isumi Haruka: ...Um. Kujo…san…Remember when, uh... you said, uh...

Kujo Tenn: Yes?

Isumi Haruka: You said you don't do idol work to be praised, you do it for yourself.

Kujo Tenn: That's right.

Yotsuba Tamaki: What's with that!? That's so cool...

Isumi Haruka: Since then, I've started to, um... worry about... whether I'm doing it to be praised.

Kujo Tenn: That's admirable.

Isumi Haruka: Again... You're really...

Kujo Tenn: I mean it honestly. I think you're admirable.

Isumi Haruka: ...Because, you know, if you're doing it to be praised, then when something happens, you end up blaming the other person.

Isumi Haruka: You end up saying "I told you to do it", or “I didn’t wanna do it”, or “It’s all your fault”.

Yotsuba Tamaki: Ah, I get it.

Rokuya Nagi: That's very important.

Isumi Haruka: Right. That's why it doesn’t matter to me. I'll sing my songs for myself with everyone here.

Isumi Haruka: It doesn't matter if I'm not chosen by my manager or the world as the best.

Kujo Tenn: Let's aim for the top.

Isumi Haruka: Huhhh!?

Yotsuba Tamaki: Hell yeah! I wanna be the most popular in the unit!

Rokuya Nagi: I want to be popular too! "Never Green" is a wonderful song!

Isumi Haruka: Ah... When you say it like that, I want to be popular too.

Isumi Haruka: Yeah, I want to be the most popular after all! But Kujo-san is so far ahead...

Kujo Tenn: What are you talking about? Aiming for the top is the best feeling. 

Kujo Tenn: As long as you don’t hurt yourself or the others if you don’t reach it.

Isumi Haruka: Yeah…

Kujo Tenn: I wanna be popular too.

Isumi Haruka: Ahaha! That line doesn’t suit you.

Kujo Tenn: Why not? I want to be properly popular. Let's make the best performance with this song. One that makes all the other members jealous.

Rokuya Nagi: That's wonderful! Let's make them jealous! The idea makes my heart dance!

Yotsuba Tamaki: Exciting! Let's win over the adults as the children’s group!

GREEN BUBBLE: Yeahh!!

Yotsuba Tamaki: Oh... We got so excited as if we reached the climax but we still have some questions left.

Rokuya Nagi: We got into quite a deep topic. Let's keep it light. Who’s next?

Kujo Tenn: Okay.

Yotsuba Tamaki: Yeah. Can I go next?

Kujo Tenn: Go ahead.

Yotsuba Tamaki: In relation to our song "Never Green," what's your favorite vegetable?

Kujo Tenn: Vegetable!?

Yotsuba Tamaki: I'm not really into veggies. But Sou-chan and Mikki said I should eat them.

Yotsuba Tamaki: Give me some recommendations! If you can't eat vegetables, plants are okay too!

Rokuya Nagi: Corn! It's sweet, has a nice texture, fresh, and it's really tasty.

Yotsuba Tamaki: Corn is so good! It's my favorite vegetable too!

Kujo Tenn: I’ve been into beets lately.

Yotsuba Tamaki: Beets?

Kujo Tenn: It's a pink vegetable. It's delicious even when made into jam.

Yotsuba Tamaki: Isn’t it a fruit if you can make jam out of it?

Kujo Tenn: I think it's a vegetable. It looks like turnip.

Yotsuba Tamaki: I see. How about you, Isumin?

Isumi Haruka: I like all vegetables, but I’ve noticed that I quite enjoy mint lately.

Yotsuba Tamaki: You've been eating mint ice cream for a while now.

Isumi Haruka: All ice cream tastes good, you know! Sometimes I put fresh leaves in and make tea out of it.

Rokuya Nagi: OH! Fresh herb tea is delicious!

Yotsuba Tamaki: How classy!

Isumi Haruka: Yeah! It looks beautiful. Minami made it for me.

Isumi Haruka: He's been growing them at home lately. He’s growing herbs in small planters…

Yotsuba Tamaki: Hm? Don’t we have a ton of these at home too?

Kujo Tenn: We have a lot of them as well. Parsley, sage, rosemary, thyme...

Rokuya Nagi: It’s a Dokidoki Cultivation kit from some "Magical★Kokona" blind goods. I bought them in bulk and distributed them.

Kujo Tenn: Really!?

Rokuya Nagi: It seems that Natsume-shi's cultivation kit landed on mint. I'm glad Isumi-shi liked it.

Isumi Haruka: Ah... Y-Yeah... Thank you...

Isumi Haruka: It's really taking over the pot.

Kujo Tenn: Mint is fertile and reproduces quickly. Oh, wait a minute...

Kujo Tenn: I think Re:vale went to plant their herbs then?

Rokuya Nagi: OH!

Kujo Tenn: I was negotiating with Yuki-san to offer him the rosemary Gaku harvested the other day.

Kujo Tenn: But even Yuki-san’s family home ended up troubled with a large harvest of herbs.

Yotsuba Tamaki: Did they rent a field or something?

Rokuya Nagi: I think they’ll land in trouble if they plant these on the ground…

Isumi Haruka: We should let them know...

Rokuya Nagi: Let's contact them later. Well then, last one! Kujo-shi!

Yotsuba Tamaki: Huh!? Isn't it my turn to MC!?

Isumi Haruka: It's fine, anyone can do it.

Yotsuba Tamaki: Are you sure!? Okay then.

Kujo Tenn: Yes. Well then, I'd like to ask a question.

Kujo Tenn: It's also related to this song.

Kujo Tenn: “Never Green” is about someone who has had bitter experiences in their past, looking back and affirming who they are now.

Kujo Tenn: I think it’s that kind of song.

Rokuya Nagi: Yes, it is. It evokes the feeling of euphoria after going through and overcoming something.

Kujo Tenn: That's right. I think everyone here has overcome or endured something.

Kujo Tenn: If you were to meet your past self, what would you tell them?

Yotsuba Tamaki: Ah...

Yotsuba Tamaki: It will be alright. You’re gonna go through tough times, but they all lead to being okay.

Rokuya Nagi: It's okay. I have a similar sentiment. What's different from Tamaki is...

Rokuya Nagi: You don’t have to hate, and you don’t have to be wary. It’s okay.

Rokuya Nagi: Everyone you meet will become someone you love.

Isumi Haruka: Wow... Somehow... Yeah, I get it...

Kujo Tenn: And what about you, Isumi-san?

Isumi Haruka: I still can't... I can't seem to find kind words to tell myself. I feel like I'd say something like "You idiot" or "It's your fault"...

Yotsuba Tamaki: Ah...

Kujo Tenn: And aside from those accusatory words?

Isumi Haruka: ...Aside from them...

Kujo Tenn: Yeah. I think it's good to say something nice to yourself.

Isumi Haruka: Mm...

Isumi Haruka: ...Hang in there, I guess. Just a little more, so hang in there.

Yotsuba Tamaki: Yeah. I want you to overcome this. I want to go pick you up myself.

Yotsuba Tamaki: We're all here for you.

Isumi Haruka: Stop it! You're trying to make me cry...!

Yotsuba Tamaki: I'm not! Are you gonna cry?

Isumi Haruka: I'm not gonna cry!

Kujo Tenn: Thank you for your answers, everyone. Each answer really touched my heart.

Isumi Haruka: Thank you.

Yotsuba Tamaki: Thanks a bunch.

Rokuya Nagi: I had a great time! Tamaki, will you wrap this up?

Yotsuba Tamaki: I’ll leave it to you.

Kujo Tenn: He’ll leave it to you.

Isumi Haruka: He's so carefree...

Rokuya Nagi: "8th Anniversary! Four Thanks Project"!

Rokuya Nagi: Celebrating the formation of our limited-time unit! This concludes the "Ask this and that!?" segment, "GREEN BUBBLE" version!

GREEN BUBBLE: Please drink! "GREEN BUBBLE"!

Audience: Kyaaaaaaah…!

Kujo Tenn: Good evening! Welcome to"GREEN BUBBLE"’s live! I'm "GREEN BUBBLE"’s Kujo Tenn!

Audience: Kyaaaaaaah…!

Yotsuba Tamaki: I'm "GREEN BUBBLE"’s Yotsuba Tamaki! Everyone! Let's get insanely pumped up during our live!

Audience: Kyaaaaaaah…!

Rokuya Nagi: I'm "GREEN BUBBLE"’s Rokuya Nagi! We may be the youngest, but we'll make your hearts race the most...!

Audience: Kyaaaaaaah..!

Isumi Haruka: We need more voices!

Audience: Kyaaaaaaah…!

Isumi Haruka: Crave us more! Drink us up...!

Audience: Kyaaaaaaah…!!

Isumi Haruka: I'm "GREEN BUBBLE"’s Isumi Haruka!

Audience: Kyaaaaaaah…!!

Kujo Tenn: Here we go! "8th Anniversary! Four Thanks Project"!

Yotsuba Tamaki: To the 1,000 lucky winners!

Rokuya Nagi: The "Miracle Limited-Time 4 Unit Thanks Live"!

Isumi Haruka: Let's do this...!

Audience: Kyaaaaaaah…!

Kujo Tenn: Listen to us. This is our unit song, which is also the commercial song for "GREEN BUBBLE"!

Kujo Tenn: Ready...!

GREEN BUBBLE: "Never Green"!

The end.

Furikake: Rice seasoning.

Sakuradafu: Fish that has been finely shredded, seasoned and colored pink. Haruka thinks it’s cherry blossoms because of its name containing “Sakura (cherry blossoms)”

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

On the language debate, I personally headcanon that the main language spoken at NRC is a common one. (?) (Like how English is the business language, or like how generally Native Americans had a common language that they spoke when trading with other tribes.) And Crowley or the Mirror used magic so that You was temporary fluent in that language.

After the ceremony, Yuu has to learn the common language and picks it up really fast (as one would in such a situation). Therefore, Yuu can still speak it when away from NRC.

(I also headcanon English as an ancient language akin to Latin, because I heard that Arabic was canonically an ancient language.)

[Referencing this post!]

I’d buy that everyone at NRC speaks the common language to some level of proficiency; it’s like how international students typically need to speak the language of whichever country they hope to study in and need to prove their fluency in an exam beforehand. As I said in the original post, the light novel does mention a translation spell over the school, so maybe that’s part of the “magic” that helps Yuu to understand what the others are saying.

Now, it’s theoretically possible for Yuu to learn the common language of Twisted Wonderland in a year, but I don’t think immersion alone would cut it (especially since the main story is only up to like 2/4 to 3/4 of a year so far) . They’d probably have to put in significant effort outside of everyday conversations to pick up its rules (because remember that language isn’t just vocabulary but also grammar, syntax, and social conventions). Yuu would also need consistent feedback from people since that’s how one usually “fixes” their incorrect language use. It’s similar to how adults would correct a child learning their first language; ie a kid says “wadur” instead of “water”.)

One site I looked at suggested that, depending on the language categorization (I, II, III, of IV), it can take 24-92 weeks’ worth of time to become an “advanced” speaker. Realistically, just getting to the basic conversational level could be hundreds or thousands (700-2500+) of hours on its own—and Yuu has to do this on their own time between homework, going to classes, and managing all the issues that Crowley doesn’t 💀 To me, that doesn’t sound like a lot of free time. Counterpoint to my own point though, we also have to consider that Yuu is... well, technically Yuu can be any age you want, but most Yuus are implied or portrayed to be 16-18. The critical window for language acquisition is theorized to be anywhere from the first three years of life up to as late as 17-18 years. After this critical window, the ability for language development tapers off. So, thinking about that, Yuu's brain could still be very pliable and able to absorb new language (though they'd have to work quite intensely to pack in as much as they can before this ability starts to decline).

Something that I feel would be difficult for Yuu is that the characters often use slang (Cater, Floyd, Idia, etc.) and/or uncommon words (like Vil’s “pulchritude”). The former may not follow the standardized rules of a language or may be idioms (other non-literal meanings for common words), which could make it hard for a non-native speaker to understand. The latter would not be used that often, so Yuu would be forced to guesstimate what the word means. I’d imagine this would make fluency challenging, because as immersed as Yuu is in Twisted Wonderland, less frequently used words are harder to grasp.

Maybe Crowley cast a translation spell ON Yuu so that they can still converse with people in the common tongue whenever they leave NRC? Or, since the events basically occur in an AU, more than a year has passed so it has allowed Yuu more time to absorb the language. Language in TWST and how it works… It’s really interesting to think about!

[bethecliche]

my love mine all mine l vincent renzi x f!reader

summary: after seeing her for the first time, he just fell (deeply) in love word count: 3.7k content: female reader (no description of genitalia), mention of sex, mention of stretch marks, description of hair and eye color (but not texture or skin color), french laws and locations being misinterpreted, use of tv shows and books I didn't watch or read, non canon note: english is not my first langague! I wrote this in portuguese and then translated to english myself, there's a chance you'll find an error or something. I'm sorry sorry! I highly recommend you to listen to the song while reading.

you can check the aesthetic references for this oneshot here but take note that none of the people actual faces on this reflects on the character identity that I wrote, so don't base all of the details on the references for the characters in story.

The first time he noticed her, she was sitting on one of the wooden benches outside the courtrooms. She seemed nervous, shaking her legs and glancing restlessly between the watch on her wrist and the clock on the hallway wall, as if it made much difference. Regardless of her worried expression and furrowed brow, Vincent felt that he had never seen such an attractive woman in his life. From her brown hair to her brown boots, looked like she stepped out of one of those '70s fashion advertisements he'd seen in vintage magazines as a kid. He didn't had time to notice much more than that, as he crossed the hallway and headed to his session. At the end of the day, of course, she was no longer there.

What seemed to have been one of those street crushes that you see when crossing an avenue and never think about again, stayed in Vincent's head for a few days. Every time he passed by the corridor, he waited to see if the brunette would be there. He tried to guess what she was doing there that day and whether there was a possibility of bumping into her again, a question to which the universe answered “yes”.

Two weeks later, this time leaving work, he looked down buttoning his blue coat, distracted in his thoughts when he noticed the same brown boots a few steps in front of him. The stranger held a cigarette between her fingers and had her arms pressed against her body. Although it was snowing lightly, it was extremely cold for an autumn day. Her look was different, probably due to the weather, with a coat with a puffed collar and puffed sleeves, once again looking like she belonged to a previous decade. The wind ruffled her hair a little and the moonlight illuminated her posture, a scene Vincent believed could have come from a movie.

All his past relationships were comfortable. Someone he knew in high school, someone he knew in college, someone who was introduced by friends or someone his friends encouraged him to talk during an outing. He didn't consider himself an introvert, but he never needed to pursue someone who was interested. Things just happened for him. It wasn't his comfort zone just to approach a stranger like that, much less at the door of his work, but something that day said it was the right thing to do.

He took a cigarette out of his pocket and approached the girl asking to borrow a lighter. His sudden plan only went so far.

As soon as she turned to face him, she gave a friendly and inviting smile, taking the object out of her pocket and activating the flame in front of his face. Vincent stood still, staring into her eyes throughout the action, mesmerized by her and her sparkling brown eyes.

“Will I ever meet a lawyer who doesn’t smoke?” She asked as she extinguished the flame, placing the lighter and her free hand back in her pocket. Too cold to let it out.

His response took a few agonizing seconds, as his mind was far away and still lost in her gaze. He composed himself, running a hand through his hair and looking away.

“The day this happens, let me know. I want to be there.” Vincent laughed awkwardly, causing the girl to laugh as well. At that moment, he felt that he wanted to provoke more of this reaction, he wanted to see more of her smile and so the conversation flowed.

His first question was how she guessed he was a lawyer and not a passerby to which she replied, "You stand like a lawyer." He shared how being a lawyer was boring and tedious, but it did have its dramatic moments in court when she asked if the career was challenging like its portrait on TV. He also discovered that she was there to pay a car ticket caused by her younger brother, hence the great nervousness when he first saw her a few weeks ago.

“When my parents told me that my 20th birthday present was a baby brother, I already felt within myself that I would be the best sister in the world. That I would try to make his life as easy as possible. 18 years later, he asks to borrow my car to visit his girlfriend - which I don't hesitate to do, after all I support young love. And the little shit-head makes sure on parking in front of a fire hydrant.” The girl blew smoke to her right side, not taking her eyes off him. “Would you be my lawyer if I try to choke him?”

Vincent could only laugh at her spontaneity, easy way of talking about life and easy way of making conversation.

“Just threaten him, it will be an easier case for me to win.”

They talked about Metz and how her family decided to move to Paris when she was a teenager because they knew the city needed more beautiful people, a fact Vincent agreed with. In order not to dismiss him, in a very charming way, she praised his Parisian accent and said that such a comment did not apply to him and only God knows how Vincent felt inside after that.

The two shared their tastes, such as reading romances and watching Dix pour cent every night before bed. It was as if they knew each other much more than the 1 hour they spent together under the snow. They shared maybe two more cigarettes before realizing it was getting a little too late to chat like that on the street.

He doesn't even know how he got out of that situation alive and managed to get home with her number.

Their first date was at a local cinema on a Friday night for a re-showing of Buffet Froid, a film Anne had never seen.

He didn't remember the last time he felt butterflies in his stomach, although it was guaranteed that nothing could compare to this time. As he got ready and tried to match his best t-shirts with his beige pants (which he eventually changed out of, finding them too tacky), Vincent remained nervous thinking that she might not show up or that this would be the first and last time they would meet in this circumstance.

In the end, all the “first time” flutter went out the window when he saw her smiling and waving on the other side of the street, already with the tickets in her hand. “I'm glad you came.” She said, holding his arm as they walked through the door of the establishment.

“I wouldn't miss it.” he replied.

The two took watching films very seriously, so it was only during the ending credits, after a lot of laughter, small comments and bumping hands on the popcorn bucket, that the two kissed.

He felt the softness of her skin on his hand and her sweet scent of perfume, in addition, of course, to the hot and saccharine kiss. It was slow, serene, just as they both wanted, being able to feel each other in that moment. It was also Anne's desire to slowly run her fingers through his hair and she didn't hesitate to take advantage of the opportunity.

After throwing their trash away, the two walked out of the cinema, now closer to each other, hand in hand. The weather wasn't as cold as when they first met and they were free to enjoy the warmth of their bodies without so many layers covering them.

“For a great 70's mind, you never having watched Buffet Froid is an insult.” He pointed at her with his free hand, wanting to tease her.

Anne rolled her eyes. Even though she liked the film, she didn't want to give a taste. “Obviously you would like action movies like that. It suits you.”

“I’ll make you like it too.” He stated, trying to imply that he wanted them to meet again, to which she responded by kissing his cheek and saying, “Next time, let's watch a romcom.”

Once, twice, three, four and a few more times, all being unusual dates. Sometimes she would call during his workday and say she would pick him up for an adventure. She drove aimlessly, just the two of them talking about their days and observing the city lights. These were Vincent's favorite “dates”, as they all ended with the two of them making out like two teenagers parked in the driveway of his apartment.

The more he got to know about her, the more he wanted to constantly be a part of her life. Anne owned a clothing store downtown, something he never tired of saying was the “most suitable job her”. On the last date they had, she took him to the closed store and put on a fashion montage for him, with improvised note cards on paper left on the counter and all. But she knew that the judge had been bought when he only gave her 10s. She also took the opportunity to get Vincent to do the same, putting him once again out of his comfort zone to find out that bell bottom jeans don't really suit him.

They even got to watch a car race - something that not even Anne had done, she had just decided that it was an experience they needed to have. They both entended up hating it, but the important thing was that the company was great.

That was one of the nights Anne slept at his house.

They ate some junk food from the fridge and watched a silly but captivating show on TV while they chatted more. When she realized she could sleep at any moment, Anne got up to brush her teeth and change her clothes, putting on her uniform for whenever she was there: a Vincent t-shirt.

Vincent found it charming how she captivated his gaze regardless of what she was doing. He loved her unique and sophisticated style, but he also loved seeing her like this, casually wearing his clothes, in his home, as if she were his. And lastly, he loved seeing her with nothing on.

Every detail of her body, her birthmarks on her shoulder and that one next to her beautiful eyes or her stretch marks on her back, everything about her seemed to have been chosen down to the millimeter. When they made love, his hands went everywhere, trying to reach as much of her as he could, to feel the warmth she exuded.

And the best way to love her was by looking into her eyes, admiring her beauty, running his lips up and down her body, being grateful for the privileged position it was to be able to love her.

Mornings were like nights, with him waking up earlier and being able, once again, to admire the woman beside her.

“You are even more beautiful in the morning.”

The two walked through the streets of Paris, both tipsy, looking for an available taxi in the dead of night. With their relationship now more established and their schedules aligned, they made it a challenge to come up with these unusual date only once a month so it wouldn't lose its fun. Today had been the day to go to the opera and due to their lack of sobriety, they didn't seem to have left anywhere other than the shabbiest bar on the corner.

The event was boring as fuck and they left halfway through to drink somewhere more enjoyable. They found an open bar showing a PSG versus Marseille match. Neither of them supported the teams or understood about football rules, but this seemed like a new opportunity for them to have another different experience that day.

One laughter after another, some passionate kisses between drinks and the two were celebrating PSG's victory at the bar with some strangers whom they befriended.

“My mother wants to meet you. My brother too. I said I might have a lawyer for the next time he's up to no good. Do you think it’s too early?”

When drunk, Anne tended to speak fast and slurred, but Vincent understood perfectly. He smiled, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing the tip of her nose. “I will love meeting your family.”

They never actually asked each other to go steady, but it was clear that they already belonged to each other at that point.

Vincent was on his cell phone writing a text to his mother about the shopping list for Christmas dinner and their desire to participate in decorating the tree (Anne's request to spend more time with her mother-in-law) while his girlfriend was lying on his lap reading his copy of Around the World in 80 Days (and she was loving it, for sure).

It was a lazy day for both of them at Vincent's place. A year into their relationship, the two of them loved sharing these moments together doing different activities.

“She said she misses you a lot and looks forward to seeing you on Christmas, but that you're banned from being near the kitchen when it is time to prepare desserts. Everything you touch that’s sweet ends up burning for some reason.”

Her smile, excited by her mother-in-law's affection, turned into a face indignant at the rule she imposed. "What?" She looked up from the book and pulled Vincent's hand to check if the message was real and it was. “This is so unfair!”

“Sorry, Anne, you’re just really bad at this.”

She lightly pushed his arm and pretended to be uncomfortable, although she knew it was true and wasn't really upset. Before she could return to her book, Vincent placed his cell phone on the table and began talking.

“One more thing, huh,” he cleared his throat, “I made one more space on the rack for you. I don't want certain clothes to get wrinkled in the drawer. I’ll make room in one more drawer too.”

Anne put the book aside and knelt on the sofa, facing her boyfriend. “Won’t it bother you? I already have space in my bedroom drawer, bathroom… In fact, there are a lot of my things scattered around the house. I don’t want to impose my space here.”

This was a subject that she had also been waiting to comment on for some time. By working her own hours at the store and having an employee to take her place wherever needed, Anne had a more flexible schedule than Vincent and it was easier to stay at his house, helping to keep everything on track and cooking for both of them. He would arrive just before dinner time and they could enjoy together without rushing to do the chores.

Because of this, the few clothes she wore just to sleep there became a drawer full, her makeup in the bathroom sink and her shoes near the door.

The gray-haired man hugged her around the waist, kissing her forehead and assuring her of his action. “You are not imposing anything, mon chéri. I want you to use this space. I want to have more and more of you here.”

For him, having her scent permeate the rooms was a gift wrapped in the best bow. Knowing that every day he would come home to see her welcoming smile and welcome kiss was the biggest work incentive.

“It feels like my home.” She whined.

“It’s your home. Our home.” He insisted.

In his favorite action, he cupped her face and looked warmly into her eyes, admiring her features trying to associate with what he was trying to say. They both smiled at each other realizing where the topic was going.

“Are you…”

“I want you to move in with me.”

The beautiful smile that filled his heart appeared on her face and Vincent, who was sure of her choice, but a little afraid of her accepting it, smiled too at her positive reaction.

In conclusion, he ended up needing to make more closet space for her countless boots, but he was happy that she could call the space her own (and she looks great in those boots, he would never complain about making room for them).

The snack table was almost empty and that made Anne happy. She might not be good at desserts, but her food was always praised and she almost never had leftovers when she cooked for her friends.

“This sandwich is delicious, aunt Anne!” Daniel stated, taking another one from the table and sitting on the sofa next to her. “Can I take some home?”

“Of course you can! There’s more stored in the kitchen, I’ll put it on the side for you to take.” She continued, now coming closer to whisper. “You can give Snoop a bite, I won’t tell your mom.”

“Hey, I’m watching you two!” Sandra said towards the back of the sofa, pointing at the two jokingly. She was talking to Vincent leaning against the wall in the hallway, looking anxious.

There was approximately 10 people spread throughout the room at this gathering. The couple chose to host a celebration for the launch of Sandra's new book, a dear friend of both, and tried to make room for everyone present. She was very delighted with the honor, although unaccustomed to the positive attention she was receiving.

Even though they weren't glued to each other at the party, Anne and Vincent always stopped for a moment to exchange a kiss and ask if everything was okay. He, even more so, couldn't stop admiring his girlfriend from afar. Parties like this always made him happy to be able to share the love he had for her and also show others that this was his girl.

It was around 6pm that they said their goodbyes and thanked their friends for being there. After closing the door, Anne took a deep breath and leaned against it with Vincent kissing her neck and hugging her waist.

“Had fun today?” He asked against her neck, kissing slowly until he reached her face. Hugging him back, she just nodded yes, pulling him into a longing and passionate kiss.

Vincent pressed his body against hers and tightened his grip, placing his free hand against the wall for support. Everything was going well, until Vincent suddenly stopped, as if he couldn't give in to temptation yet.

He also took a deep breath, with a shy smile as he looked at her.

“Is something wrong?” She asked, still leaning against the door and resting her hands on his shoulder.

"What?" He retorted.

“During the party, you kept looking at me like that, with those heart-eyes, that fool in love face of yours. And now you're doing it again. It seems... different.”

Vincent laughed awkwardly, as if he was unprepared to respond that quickly. “In my defense, I always look like a fool in love when I’m with you.”

Before anything else, Vincent took a red velvet box out of his pocket and opened it, showing a silver ring made especially for her. With the hand that was on her waist, he slipped into her hand and intertwined their fingers.

“Kneeling isn’t your style, nor are long speeches in front of our friends, but I can’t just leave the ring in your hand without saying anything. The day I saw you for the first time, I was intrigued. The second time, that feeling I had of needing to talk to you urgently, of not letting the opportunity pass, I think, somehow, I knew we were going to get to this moment right now. By the third time - I was already in love. Head over heels, worshiping the ground you pass, heart-eyes, whatever you want to call it. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't feel those butterflies in my stomach before seeing you, that I don't feel the eager to be by your side. If you do me the honor of marrying me, I can promise that you will have a man who wakes up in love with you every day. Forever.”

Anne's eyes were already full of tears as soon as she saw the box and she couldn't help but shed them when she heard the proposal.

The last 4 years of their lives were instinctive, passionate, in a way she never thought she would experience. All her last lovers didn't last long, they couldn't handle her personality or couldn't love her right, so she was left with no hope that it would change. But Vincent's speech was something that she not only believed, she felt. Every day, she felt his love, his affection and his care. Wave of action speaks louder than words and she trusted her man.

There was no other answer than yes.

The same word was repeated by the two of them at the registry office a few months later. The idea was never a big party, it didn't suit either of their personalities, but Anne always wanted a dress and a veil, so they were both there, in their wedding clothes just before lunch time in the registry office next to Vincent's work place.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride!”

With that sentence, the two shared a classic wedding kiss, with Vincent holding her around the waist and Anne throwing her leg up. They could live that moment over and over again, but they needed to go out for a little celebration party with their friends before they left for their honeymoon (and Anne was more than eager to have her friends around so she could toss the bouquet).

Outside, in another snowy day, Anne reached through the car window and took a black bag from the glove compartment, handing it to her now husband.

“What is it?” He held on, swinging by the loop to feel the weight so he could find out what it could be.

“It's your wedding gift.” She cheerfully replied.

He stole one more kiss from his wife before opening the bag, already imagining what could be inside.

“It has our initials and today’s date on it,” she pointed to the bottom where the details were, “so no other girl coming out of court will need to offer you the lighter.”

Vincent took a cigarette out of his jacket pocket and lit it with his newest gift, but without inhaling, just lighting it for the sake of it.

“No one will have my love. Only you, mon chéri."

[yuurei20]

Compilation Master List: Q&A

(Not all but many!)

Ace ・I noticed that ace seemed to think the title of magic-less prefect was cool ・I suddenly remembered out of nowhere Ace had ghosted his ex

Trey ・I can''t remember a time when we've heard Trey use honorifics with anyone else in the student body.

Cater ・I have a curious question about a voice line from Cater's Bloom broom card. ・Is Cater Diamond attractive with both genders? ・Is it mentioned how many followers cater has on magicam? ・Do we know what caters dad does for work?

Leona ・So in the second novel, after Leona's overblot does it go into his past or is it just the speech afterwards? ・Does Leona have a favorite first year/freshman? ・Does novel Leona treat Yuuya differently compared to the game. ・I remember hearing once that leona can drive a car? ・Do Leona consider mc/yuu as friend or just a normal classmate?

Azul ・Can I ask about Leona and Azul's contract? ・Does canon ever say anything similar about how Azul was acknowledged as dorm head and when he assumed the position?

Jade, Floyd ・I wanted to know if it was ever mentioned anywhere that Jade ate his siblings. ・Is there any reference to the Tweels being afraid of sea snakes? ・Floyd's union birthday vingette in JP ・Is it true that Jade doesn't have any members in his club

Jamil ・When Jade corners Kalim with his UM in book 4, Kalim admits he knows who's been mind controlling him, but promised long ago to never tell. ・On the EN server, Jamil's lesson start line is translated as "No antics, please." ・I've seen people mention Jamil might actually care about Kalim more than the surface level ・So what's the deal with Jamil Viper's parents

Vil ・Could you explain to me why Vil is so insistent on correcting Epel's accent?

Rook ・Regarding Rook: do we know whether he arrived at NRC aboard the black carriage because he was actually picked by the Black Mirror? ・I was wondering if it's ever mentioned about Rook disliking anyone

Epel ・I've noticed Epel keeps adding 'kana' to the end of his sentences. What does it mean?

Idia ・How does Idia feel about Leona? ・How many times do lilia and idia interact in person? ・Does Idia's hair burn? ・Does idia sometimes use "de gozaru" to end sentences? ・I think I remember there being a lot of madness surrounding Idia being close to Yuu. ・Has there ever been a name given for the MMORPG Idia and Lilia play together? ・How do you think Idia got his unique magic? ・What's Idia's relationship with his parents like? ・Does Idia have any peeps that he can get along with, other than Ortho? ・Could it be that Idia actually considers the prefect to be a friend?

Malleus ・In twst is it obvious knowledge for the characters in game that malleus is like 100's of years old ・What honorifics does the cast use for Malleus? ・Do you know how Malleus got the dorm leader position? ・Did Malleus have a special tutor growing up or did Lilia also serve as his tutor?

Lilia ・Do you remember any instance of Lilia calling Silver 'his son' in JP server?

Silver ・Do the other members of Diasomnia know that Silver is Lilia's son?

Sebek ・When Sebek enters a battle, he says, "I'll swallow you whole." What does that mean? ・Is it possible that "human" can be used to describe everyone who isn't fae?

Crowley ・I swear the model of Crowley even in that moment was holding a whip ・Is there anything about Crowley Actually being stingy in game ・Have you seen the voice lines for Crowley's card? ・What's this Crowley's fan theory rejecting Deuce's application for a Magical Wheel club about?

Lucius ・Is there any canon indication that Lucius is Treins familiar?

Prefect Questions ・How many people know about Yuu is actually from the other world ・I was wondering what yuuya does during the OB battles? ・Is there anything in the novels where Yuuya going into a club is brought up? ・Does Crowley give the MC any allowance? ・Do you think a magicless prefect would be able to get thru NRC's curriculum w/o grim? ・Do the characters seem aware of the backstories of the other characters? ・When Yuuya arrived in Twisted Wonderland, did he instantly understand the language there? ・Has the Perfect ever given gifts in the birthday tracker? ・Is Yuuya more prominent in the novel than Yuu in the games ・Characters reacting to prefect ・Do you have any idea as to why the novel Yuu has severe social anxiety as opposed to the other Yuus? ・Did the novel talk about the effects of blot on normal people without magic? ・Ghost Prefect?

Students ・Do you know how many siblings each characters has ・I was wondering if it was "common" knowledge that the overblot happened or if it's only the students that were present that know about it? ・Do you perhaps know which character is the most frequent DUO character? ・Was there ever an official height chart anywhere? ・Did the 5 student overblots happen over the span of 5 months? ・Can i ask about what happens After the overblots? ・Was it ever said in the game or by the guys themselves where they go or what they do during the holidays/ winter break?

NRC ・Does any part of the story mention the cost of tuition at nrc? ・Does NRC have a nurse or a doctor for the infirmary? ・I was wondering how animal linguistics works ・Does Twst follow Western or Asian school system ・I've been trying to find out how many students go to nrc for fic purposes ・I was wondering if clubs are mandatory for students and when club enrollment begins. ・Are the student numbers chosen specifically or do they mean a specific thing? ・It is common knowledge that Night Raven College is an all-boy schools, but what about Royal Sword Academy or Noble Bell College?

Magic ・Concerning light and dark magic, has there really been like a significant difference between the two? ・So how many people do we know the circumstances of how they got their unique magic now? ・I was wondering how the novels described how it looks when each character's Unique Magic is cast.

Language ・Do you know why 'land of pyroxene' was changed to 'the shaftlands'? ・It seemed like Mickey was saying he saw the Silver haired weird eye colour boy... ・In EN, (Najma) calls (Jamil) bro/dude and he reacts with "since when do you call me bro/dude!?" I was wondering what this exchange is like in JP? ・In the new update malleus UM said fae malefience and not fae of malefience would you know why? ・"Cold One Duke"

Behind the Scenes ・How true is that Yana is not involved in the writing of all events? ・I'm especially curious about (Yana's) involvement in the starsending, chef, rabbit fest and harveston event. ・I was wondering if you knew anything about the artists who work on the game? ・Do you know if some of the characters were supposed to be girls or the school coed?

Various ・Has there been any comment about dinosaurs in twisted wonderland? ・I was curious about what's the largest and the shortest Twistune/Rhythmic. ・I keep seeing the fandom joke about S.T.Y.X being the government or something ・How on earth did the heroes stories work if they, uh, yk, dont have the villains? ・Is there info anywhere on how much a madol/thaumark is worth? ・Do you know if there is a timeline for the main story and events that would make for the best reading order? ・Reading Order Pt2 ・Book 7 Theory

[i-heart-hxh]

During the shinju scene,meleoron mentions theres something killua cant tell him, what is it that killua couldnt tell him?

from what i seen,shinjuu isnt always romantic,was it he couldnt tell meleoron he was going to die w gon because of his romantic feelings

The line

meleoron:‘if you joking,whyd u have that incredibly sad look on ur face(talking about when he was observing killua with gon)’ ‘you cant tell me,so i wont ask’ or in different translations its ‘cant you tell me?’ But in the original japanese its about being unable to tell somebody something

Hello!

So, I decided to just post (most of) these two pages because I think seeing the art and layout of the actual pages helps with understanding exactly what's going on and also analyzing it. I also went and looked at the pages in Japanese just to see if anything stood out. Aside from the famous shinjuu line, the translation seems fine.

Just to summarize and be clear before I launch into further analysis: In this scene, Killua says (with a rather dark expression) that the worst case scenario is he and Gon die together in a lovers suicide. Killua sees that Meleoron is rather vexed/taken aback/discouraged by this response and doesn't know what to say, so then Killua immediately claims he's just kidding and that they'll be okay after all, and he knows how to snap Gon out of it.

Meleoron then internally doubts that Killua is kidding about this, because he was there when Gon said the "It has nothing to do with you," (essentially) line that pushed Killua away, and he saw how heartbroken Killua looked by that. He then decides it's not worth asking because Killua clearly doesn't want to be honest about his feelings, he can't or won't express what he's going through, so he backs off.

I'm glad you brought this up because it's a piece of the whole shinjuu scene that people don't talk about as much, but this whole exchange and Togashi bothering to show Meleoron's reaction to it in the first place says a lot about the importance of the scene. If Meleoron didn't pause and connect this to Killua's earlier heartbroken moment (and notice how it takes up literally half of the page--it's important!), it would be easy to read on past it without thinking about it more deeply.

In other words, this further exchange with Meleoron is emphasis. It's there so the readers don't simply gloss over what Killua said about the shinjuu, and so the readers understand that he means it, that no matter what he says to the contrary, Killua is in fact serious about this possibility. It's there to slow things down enough so the readers can reflect on and ask their own questions about the situation.

I'm sure this is why Togashi bothered to put Meleoron in the scene with Gon pushing Killua away in the first place--there was no other reason for him to be there, other than being an observer of this moment and standing in to ask these questions.

Meleoron--an outside observer without as much context for Gon and Killua's relationship as the rest of us--wonders what's going on here, why Killua looked utterly destroyed by a few simple words. But because he saw Killua's immediate urge to lie and say it's a joke when he hesitated, he knows Killua won't open up to him about exactly what's going on, why Killua was so devastated by what Gon said to him and why Killua intends to do a teen lovers suicide with his best friend if all goes badly. Meleoron is definitely pointing out (in his view, anyway) that there are feelings behind this that Killua is unable and unwilling to talk about. Is he implying they're romantic feelings? I mean...

This happens so much in Chimera Ant arc around Killua's feelings. Togashi leaves it open-ended, doesn't spell it out blatantly, but it seems like the question is being asked over and over again--what exactly are the nature of Killua's feelings for Gon, anyway? And there keep being these moments where the concept of romantic love is conjured in some form in connection with or around this unspoken question being asked, like multiple instances in the Palm subplot I've talked about a bunch of times now. (Linking to that post in particular because it links to a lot of other Palm subplot related posts.)

Even the way Killua asks if Gon considers him a friend or a comrade, asking What are we? basically is essentially a shoujo trope--and especially how it was presented, very dramatic with a lot of focus and emphasis on Killua's internal turmoil around asking the question.

There are just so many times in this arc where emphasis gets placed on a question of, What are your feelings for Gon anyway, Killua? in an indirect way, including this moment with Meleoron. It's repeated so many times and there are so many instances where there's some subtext around or even direct mention of romantic love hovering around these questions, it's basically daring the audience to answer.

It's true that shinjuu can be non-romantic in some cases, however the word choice is meaningful. Togashi knows what the implications of it are, especially in a literary sense. He could have chosen other ways to phrase this, he could have opted not to use this word in particular. If it was presented completely in isolation from any other romantic subtext, there would be more of an argument to be had for it just being included in a platonic sense, but with how much repeated romantic subtext there is with Gon and Killua's relationship to begin with...I think the word choice is very intentional.

I hope that answers your question!

[dabisair]

toska

Dabi x gn!reader

Warnings: soft Dabi, reader is a bit rude to Dabi in the beginning, discussions of love and how it's supposed to feel (both explanations are negative), indecisive reader, unambitious reader, talk of body hatred, and oh my god if you feel the way this reader feels I am so so so SO sorry and I hope that one day you and I can heal ; _ ; (I tried to keep Reader's body type unspecified)

toska - (roughly) a dul ache of the soul, a sick pining, a spiritual anguish; also, "Russian word roughly translated as sadness, melancholia, lugubriousness".

Unbeta'd I ride at dawn--- this started somewhere and then ended somewhere else entirely and I'm sorry.

A flame-bitten finger traces along imperfect skin - skin that shivers beneath the touch, goosebumps pebbling in the wake.

The sensation worsens when that burning hand plucks petals from a nearby flower, all blues and purples with a splash of white, and traps the supple material between a hot palm and a cool arm.

Blue eyes flicker with interest, a flash of white heat singing the petals and the near invisible hairs on your forearm. A stream of smoke rises up from beneath his palm, long fingers wrapping around your arm when you try to jerk the appendage away on reflex.

Dabi thinks your scowl is funny - he must, given that he chuckles when you narrow your eyes at him. You don’t waste your time trying to pull your arm out of his grasp. You’ve come to know that it is better for you to accept whatever new burn you’re going to have when he finally decides to let you go than fight with him and have him tighten his grasp.

“Just because you have dead pain receptors doesn't mean I do.”

The small smile on his face is whisked away by a neutral line, his grip on your arm loosening enough for you to yank it back to your person. All that meets your gaze when you inspect your skin is a red blotch, earning Dabi a sigh. You brace your hand against the stone beneath where you sit, staring listlessly toward the city below. He’d insisted that you come up to this roof with him nearly an hour ago.

He sets his hand on your thigh, ripped up flower petals fluttering around as he repeats the action, this time with the petals, and the fabric as a barrier between the brutal flash of his quirk and your flesh. You poke gently at the skin between his knuckles, tentatively touching the staples. Your fingers twitch away from the metal, scorching hot just from the small puffs of flame he let out from his palms.

“What does it feel like?”

“Like running through the snow and jumping in a hot tub.”

Dabi snorts, shaking his head while he rubs his hand slowly up and down your thigh, “right.”

“So hot that it feels cold, like leaving my hand in cold water and then putting it in a bowl of hot water. It stings and makes me think my skin is melting off my bones, at the same time as it feels like my skin is freezing and becoming brittle.”

He nods his head, his hand lifting from your thigh to touch your chest, “that’s not what I’m askin’. What does it feel like?”

“What does what feel like, fire boy?”

“Being in love.”

You peer at him closely, trying to gauge why he’s asking - or, furthermore, why he thinks that you’re in love. You’ve always wondered if you say ‘I love you’ to people because you mean it, or because they said it to you first.

But, at the same time, you can’t be sure that you don’t feel love. You don’t know what it really feels like - at least, not in the way that it's been shown in television or movies or described in books and poems.

“It feels empty.”

Dabi’s stare is weighted, resting heavily on your body.

“It feels like a dull ache, like there’s a hole in my chest that nothing will fill. It feels like losing someone important, wishing you could have them back but knowing that it’s not possible. There’s an anguish there, so deep that I can’t do anything about it, so yeah. It feels empty. It doesn’t feel real. It’s painful.”

Part of you is not surprised when Dabi pulls his hand away from you, but it dawns on you, as your heart sinks into your stomach, that he must have been asking because he thought you were in love with him.

“... what does it feel like to you?”

“Like I wanna’ hurt you. I don’t understand it, can’t comprehend it, and I want to hurt you. It’s an itch I can’t get rid of, a disgusting insect in the back of my head gnawing away at my thoughts and I despise it, and I want it to stop,” his hand returns to your thigh, and he scoots closer, one leg dangling over the edge you’re both sitting on, “can I hurt you?”

“No.”

His huff is so incredulous it causes a puff of laughter to escape you.

“That was so fuckin’ instantaneous.”

“I don’t enjoy pain.”

“What if I let you hurt me too?”

“But you can’t really feel pain anymore, D, and that means that I could potentially really hurt you and neither of us would be aware.”

“But it would be fair. I get to hurt you because I loathe how you make me feel, and you get to fill your emptiness with pain.”

“I don’t follow your logic, but I appreciate that you’re trying.”

“Unless you wanna’ fill your emptiness with somethin’ less painful?” he mutters, leaning toward you.

You go rigid, shoulders bunching up. His lips - uneven and unnatural - scrape along your neck, sending a violent shiver down your spine as your body jumps beneath the affection. He sighs through his nose, the rush of warm air eliciting a similar reaction.

“Do you like that?”

“I don’t know.”

“How can you not know?” he scoffs, moving closer despite his indignation. You have half a mind to slap his hand off your thigh.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to react,” you turn your head to the side when Dabi decides to bury his face in your neck, tongue and teeth moving over your skin. It makes you uncomfortable. It makes you anxious. You can’t be sure the butterflies are actually a good thing as they flutter their wings throughout your stomach and chest.

It feels foreign and unnatural and you’re not sure why he insists on kissing your neck the way he is.

At the same time, you don’t do anything to stop him. Part of you hopes you can just breathe through it. Maybe…

Your anxiety grows when his strong fingers dig into your thigh, pulling at your flesh.

It takes a moment for you to work up the courage to discourage Dabi from continuing, his curious mouth moving up your neck toward your cheek. He leans back, expression unreadable save for the irritated twitch in his lip.

“You know I’m impatient,” his voice is low. Dejected. His frustration digs bruises into your thigh, and despite the pain, and the fact that you told him you don’t enjoy pain, you let him. It is better than reminding him that he’s a villain and if he’s going to be so impatient, then he should just take what he wants from you.

Dabi has always seemed to want you to be willing, rather than despondent.

“Nothing to say to that?”

You shrug, your leg jerking under his hand when he digs his fingers into it again. Words escape you until Dabi moves his hand off your leg and sighs heavily.

“This is never gonna’ go anywhere, is it?”

“No.”

“And I thought I was the villain.”

“In label only, D. You also deserve someone who knows what they want - both in life and a relationship. I can’t give you either of those things,” you shrug, the lights of the city blurring together, “unlike you, I have no ambitions. I have no purpose. I simply exist. I don’t know what I want, and haven’t known for years.”

He fishes his cigarettes out of the pocket of your sweatshirt and lights one up with a blue flicker, his movements harsh.

“So you used to know.”

“Yeah. I used to think I wanted a relationship. I used to be pretty enough to be in one.”

Dabi grumbles something under his breath, glaring at you. You tilt your head to the side, sighing through your nose, “you’re prettier than me, D.”

“Yeah? Tell me how that makes sense.”

“It doesn’t,” you mutter, surprised that he’s stayed as close to you as he has. He’s been surprisingly patient with you, “but I’ve stopped trying to make sense of it, y’know? It’s all fine and dandy until I remember I’m part of the equation. Everything about me is ugly, especially my body. I wouldn’t like it even if I was thinner - or bigger. It’s me, so it’s ugly.”

“But you think other people who share your attributes are beautiful, doll,” Dabi leans his forehead against your shoulder, “why can’t you think that about yourself?”

You suck in your cheeks, looking at him sheepishly when he raises his head.

“... you were gonna’ say that phrase, weren’t you?”

“Uh huh.”

“And you didn’t because…?”

“Because I think I’ve said it enough for one night, and you’re probably sick of hearing it. So. Um. Reasons.”

“Mm-hm. Reasons?”

“Yeah. The best. Logical. Make perfect sense reasons - definitely not illogical, or contradictory reasons!”

And to your surprise, Dabi chuckles, shaking his head as he inclines it to your shoulder again. Maybe it is nice for him to hear you try to be funny about something that is objectively not funny - or maybe he appreciates that you are already aware that your reasoning is illogical.

“Next time we should talk about something else.”

“But what if talking to me about how much you hate yourself makes y’feel better?” he counters softly, lifting his head from your shoulder to toss his cigarette away. You glance at his lips only to quickly look away when you realize he caught you.

“Isn’t that too much weight for you?” you ask just as softly. Thankfully, he knows what you mean: by comparison, your body is fine. Your body is normal.

His no longer is.

“But I understand - don’t argue with me.”

“Okay.”

“Saw you lookin’.”

You hum.

“So do it.”

You glance at him again, brows narrowing back, and your stare drifts to his lips, then back up to his eyes. He nods his head a little in encouragement.

All you can muster is to kiss him on the corner of his mouth. You let it linger, let yourself feel it, and then you pull away. Dabi brings your head to his collar, though, making you lean against him

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

You laugh airily, closing your eyes.

“It wasn’t.”

[starpirateee]

Hi!! Could you write one of the Curtwen prompts I made, yet didn’t cut it? I love your writing style!!

Honestly there was a bit of deliberation here because you put some really good ideas out there on the form, but I did say I'd write em myself, and by all means, I'll still do it! So, I decided to go for this prompt:

Would you take a modern au from me? Can I do that?

I mean, I'm going to anyway, because I have a dire need to call Curt and Owen husbands (and also for wider Starkid lore), but i just thought I'd warn you beforehand!

"Agent Carvour, have you found anything yet?"

Owen leaned back away from his research. He'd been looking at the same page now for a while, trying to make some sense of it. Redacted government files were hard to get hold of, but even harder to make ends of. His system had been trying to translate it, but not even he had the software for that.

"Quite possibly, sir. I have a few sources, at least."

"What have you got?"

With an air of something that was almost excitement and almost elation, Owen pulled up a series of documents and started the walk through them. "Well, sir, the easiest source was from a few years ago. There's a company in Michigan that's been trying to conduct various temporal experiments under their parent company— some kind of analyst company, I think. They're surprisingly ordinary. Anyway, apparently the experiments just… Stopped. They never drew a conclusion on whether or not their research was connected to what was on the other side."

This had all started when Chimera had dug up a series of centuries old reports about people claiming to have looked into the eyes of old gods. None of the people had known each other, but all of the reports showed some form of consistency, and all told of great, unknowable power.

So, they had decided to look into it, to see if there had been anyone else who'd dared to brave the process of trying to find an answer. Owen was one of those lucky enough to find himself with the resources to start a thorough investigation.

"They didn't finish?"

"No, I don't know what happened, but the reports just stopped one day."

"Is there anything else?"

"An american government report, but it's as hard as you can imagine to decipher. Most of it is redacted…"

"Anything worth noting?"

Owen nodded, carefully turning back and switching the tabs. This felt a little like he was giving a presentation that he hadn't prepared for, and he hadn't felt like this in quite some time. He took a breath, trying to slow down the rampage that was going on in his head. "They started in the early noughts. 2005, to be precide. That's the earliest I'd gotten without looking at those old reports from the pioneers. A branch of the military tried to build a gateway to the other side, to investigate what existed outside of our plane. I don't know names, only one. The name of the man who performed the experiment."

"They got this gateway open?"

"Yes, sir. And they sent someone through. I think there's a good reason why his is the only name they disclosed."

"Why?"

"Because he was declared dead, sir."

His screen still displayed the document, and the man's name sat among the black markouts, clear enough to see. Cross, W.D. Apparently, he'd ventured into the portal, and nobody heard from him or saw him after the date of the experiment. They gave up the search after a month, and after that, Colonel Cross was indeed declared dead.

"So, another dead end?"

"Maybe not. I'll do what I can to uncover this with what I've got available, but it was scanned, so…. It might take some time." Owen was normally confident in his abilities, and uncovering government documents was a difficult yet necessary part of the job. There was something almost genuinely enthralling about scraping off the parts that the world's governments wanted to keep secret. It felt like giving people a small yet surprisingly effective slice of justice every time.

"Keep looking, Carvour. We need to know if this is viable, or even worth our time…"

If Owen had any kind of normal life— if he and his husband didn't both do the dirty work for secret operation services— he would have a blast trying to decide how to describe the intricacies of what he'd been researching lately. The throws of domestic life confounded him to no end, which was why it was so funny when he and Curt tried to imitate that.

The otherwise simple question of "how was your day" turned into a battle of who could craft the most believable lie that better concealed what they'd actually done. Neither wanted to jeopardise their jobs, and Curt had always been brilliant at crafting stories, so it was never dull.

He started to think about what today's excuse would be. Something about pioneers, or the Oregon trail, or perhaps he could bring up that old, dead colonel somehow, that would be interesting to add to the pile.

--

"You know what I'm gonna ask already…"

By the time he got home, Curt was already waiting for him, and the mid-spring sun was starting to set. For anyone else, it was a day at the office, but the trails he had begun to uncover had really put all other days at the office to shame.

He laughed softly, having prepared this answer a number of hours before, and took up a position on the couch. "No, love, you first. I insist."

"Fine, okay," Curt answered with a chuckle. "It was nothing really, just your standard… But, the bear returned, and in about a month, I'm gonna get really rich and run off to central Europe, with a really pretty lady and a dollar store box of magic tricks."

"The same bear from last month?"

"Yeah. Bastard won't leave me alone."

"Sounds wild. Are you coming back after your plans to run off with this really pretty lady?"

"Plan is to cut myself off after three weeks, but at this rate, I might not make it two."

"Not good enough?"

"Owen, I'm a bit too gay for that." To sell his point, he flashed his wedding band, and Owen laughed harder. "Besides," he added, covering his own bout of laughter. "Who needs a fake wife when I've got my own right here?"

Owen shot him a faux-offended glance. "How dare you!"

"You might fool the guys at work, O, but you couldn't pretend you don't think about it…"

Or that he hadn't been experimenting in that part of himself in little segments since he was seventeen. Turns out he suited long hair better, and he wouldn't hesitate to admit that he both looked and felt rather good with the occasional flourish.

"You know me well..."

"I should hope so! Anyway, what're you keeping from me? How was your day?"

"Office, just like you. I've had a conversation with a pioneer, and tried to erase marker pen over the body of a dead soldier. Oh, and I tried to teach myself statistical analysis."

"Jeez, that was— that was a whole rollercoaster there, huh?"

"Mhm, I've been busy."

"You can say that again, god… So, a pioneer? Like those guys that travelled to Oregon?"

"Yeah. Quite interesting people, if a little paranoid." Something other than their oxen might be watching them would've been a perfect addition to the statement, but Owen felt that was a little too close to the line to pass, so he decided not to add it.

The important part was, apart from the knowledge that Curt was on an assignment in a month's time, both of them were none the wiser. Curt didn't need to know that he had started the deep dive into a pack of eldritch gods and was even slightly nervous about the outcome.

He didn't sleep well that night. He knew that he had right to believe that this was all one great hoax, that there was something in the water that made the pioneers mass hallucinate this supposed watcher. They all travelled on the same trail, it was entirely plausible that all of them found the same hallucinogenic and envisioned a thousand eyes watching them and their familes. It was less of a coincidence when two subsidaries of larger companies started describing details of experiments that led them to discovering other beings beyond just the watcher, of course, but he still wasn't sure whether he was privy to believing any of it.

There was something about redacted government files, though, that were meant to be believed. There was a reason they hid information from the public, and that was often because they had found something worth disclosing in the first place. That meant huge news, large press cover ups… The whole works… And that was the last thing any self-respecting government with something to hide would want. Owen imagined the size of the initial press conferences for dealings like Roswell, how many people must've shown up to that conference, under the impression that they were going to get answers, only for the press to redact the next day and claim that it was no more than a weather balloon.

He felt like he was dealing with a weather balloon of his own right now. This was something that this branch of the military clearly didn't want people knowing. The only reason they'd had to disclose any information at all was because one of their own had died looking for this information, and they had to provide the closure for whatever family he had left. Part of him wondered what they'd said, how they'd tried to cover up this man's imminent demise at the hands of another dimension. What did his family know? Was he ever given a sendoff?

When Owen tried to sleep that night, plagued with the thoughts of how much his research was worth, and what really happened on the other side, he couldn't get his head in the right place to take a suitable rest for long enough. Flashes of colour— brighter than anything he'd ever seen— danced behind his eyelids, chasing each other in sequence. Blue. Purple. Yellow. Pink. Green. White. Blue…. He didn't have much of the capacity to think, not when those colours started consuming his subconscious thought, but he spared a moment to the hope that he may get answers of his own if he stuck around long enough.

"He thinks he's brave… He thinks we don't know about him…"

Whatever dream he had been having was taken over by blurred edges and violent pangs of pain that he was sure he could feel outside of this existence. Everything faded out, leving only ruin in it's wake. Broken pieces, scrambled signals… Owen didn't even try and make sense of it, he already understood the futility of trying. There was nothing left in his mind but those colours and those voices— for he was sure there was more than one. A sickening chorus, holding perfect time with each other.

"He's foolish, if he thinks he can go further without us finding out."

"Owennnn…"

"We know what you're doing, Owen…. It's not going to last."

He'd thought about meeting his maker before. He'd thought about the possibility of death, the idea that he may not live to see another day eventually. It was hard to deliberate something so serious in his early thirties, but his line of work called for it. He knew that he had a dangerous job, and that there were few who would be able to save him if something happened.

But, he'd never considered the possibility of his own demise to this extent before. In the formless remains of his dream, where he was forced into hearing these voices talk about his death and how soon it would be to coming, he had pause for deliberation. And it wasn't good.

He had to strain to take control of his own voice, in this space that was once his own. Once so sacred, now scarce and left entirely to the whim of whatever was taking residence in his mind. This was a bad idea. All of this research was a bad idea, and he was suddenly more aware of that than he was anything else. Never before had he had such a violent urge to overturn everything he'd worked on for the sake of something this seemingly trivial.

"There's nothing you can do. It's already started. This is bigger than me…"

"We know that. You're not the only one we have heard trying to work your way into what is ours… Choose your next step carefully, Owen. I'm sure we would delight in taking you in the same direction as the others…"

Before he could really ask what that meant, he was left entirely alone. The ruin of his dream still stood strong, which was strange enough given that the voices had left him alone, but he had the strangest feeling that there was more to this landscape than just what he was being shown. He started to wander, to look around in an attempt to find the real end to all of this. His mind was a wasteland, taken over by the lack of colour and the apparently deafening absence of those voices that had only appeared a moment before. He felt empty without them, although he knew nothing more than the sequence of colours that paraded through his vision.

Blue… Purple…. Yellow…

The pattern was familiar, like he'd seen it before somewhere. And while he wasn't resting easy, he couldn't force himself to wake up, either. No matter how hard he tried, he was just left stuck, wandering the expanse until he found what he was apparently looking for.

Pink…. Green…. White… Blue…

The expanses of his mind stretched out into a road, occupied by nothing but empty space. He supposed that was mostly his own fault; he had known for years that his imagination was never one to be put on par with anything else. He couldn't so vividly picture that which others could, and he'd never really had much of a capacity to dream, either.

So, this warning was strange. Seeing such vivid, bright colours in the back of his mind, knowing that he couldn't have conjured them himself…

He started to walk the road, curious enough to want to know where it went.

"Owen?"

That voice wasn't like the ones who had left moments before. That voice had a personality, and a person to go with. It was warm, though scared. Human all the same. And Owen knew the shape of it.

"Owen?"

Owen let his instinct lead him down the road, through it's many curves and winds. Eventually, the road gave way to what could only possibly be a stage. There was a set of stairs to one side, that he let himself climb before he could think to wonder where they led, and then the familiar voice gave way to a man in the wings, staring at him with desperate, fear-lined eyes. Of course he knew the voice, and of course he had never tried to doubt himself on the matter.

He tried to advance towards Curt, but he took a hasty step back, shaking his head.

"Curt?"

"Prove you're Owen."

"I'm sorry?"

Curt hesitated, and then slowly emerged from the wings. Even though he stood on the light of the stage, it still looked like he was carefully enveloped in shadow, like the darkness was a comfort to him. Owen looked around, wondering what had made him so cautious, and whether it was still around. Had Curt seen what he'd seen? What had those things whispered to him?

"I'm not falling for it again. Tell me you're actually Owen…"

Owen frowned, not wanting to dwell too much on why Curt was so afraid to reach out to him and realise that all of this was as real as they could get it. "Curt, love, I don't know what you want me to say…" There was a certain desperation about him too. Improvisation had never been his strong suit, but he wass confident that, given the right prompt, he would be able to convince his husband that he was who he said he was, to quell any discrepancy that it may have been otherwise.

"Don't. Show me… What happened on your 25th birthday."

The pieces fit into place, and Owen nodded dutifully. He had been out in the field that day, a strikingly hot day in the middle of June. The two of them had barely ended up with three hours together by the end of it, and they'd gone out drinking to celebrate what little time was left of his birthday. He'd never been particularly big on celebrating, but Curt had insisted. They were newly married then, and getting used to the idea of sharing a life with someone else. That was one of the first nights following their wedding when Owen truly came to realise that he'd made entirely the right decision, and that there was nobody he'd rather share his life with than Curt Mega.

"My 25th… That was a home ground mission. I was in the state."

"What happened to you?"

Owen smiled, somewhere between fondness and a need to hide the melancholic air that hung about that question. He pushed up the sleeve of his jacket, and huffed a weary breath of laughter. "I was trying to make my exit, but the suit jacket caught on a fence. Here…" With his sleeve rolled to just the right length, Owen held out his arm and pointed out a pale flash just below his elbow— a jagged scratch that had never quite healed right. "That's what happened after the fabric tore. Is that enough?"

Curt had known about the scar. He'd also known about the story. He was pretty sure that nobody else knew, though, so in his head, that had always been his fallback option in the event that he was ever sure Owen needed to prove himself. Those stories lined up perfectly, and while Owen had missed out on some of the details, in the grander scheme of things, he'd gotten it exactly right. He shifted, letting a knowing smile cross his face through the fear that still gripped him.

"It's really you…"

"Of course. Why wouldn't it be?"

Curt's approach was still careful, premeditated. Even though he knew the truth now, there was still something about him that screamed a lack of trust directly into his ear, and it made actually reaching out for Owen so much harder. "You… You were trying to kill me."

"What now?"

"I know what I saw…"

"I don't doubt you, but I would never… I swear it on my life."

"I know, that's why it was strange… I— What the hell's happening?" This stage was the only thing connecting the two of them to reality. There was nothing beyond it but the end of the road that Owen had travelled down, and nothing behind it but black, empty space.

Owen let his instinct take over. If the two of them were going to face the unknown, whatever and wherever this was, then they were going to do it together. They always had, and they always would. That was the way things worked, especially for the two of them, because their lives were built so heavily on the idea of distrust that any semblance of the opposite they could get, they would cling to. Normally that was exclusively each other, and so the world wasn't usually much larger than the two of them.

Their hands connected in the middle of the emptiness. Owen pulled Curt Closer to him, and the two of them stood side, performers to an unknown audience, marionettes for something larger than themselves. They exchanged a glance, and Owen registered the warm, homely spark residing in Curt's eyes.

"I think we're trapped in a nightmare, crazy as it sounds," he tried to respond, but he wasn't entirely sure where this was going to go. "I can't wake up, but I remember falling asleep last night."

"Me too. I fell asleep before you did, you were still reading."

"Right, and now there's this. Whatever this is. did you, by chance, see those colours too?"

Curt nodded. "They came before you did, before the- other you. Blue, and purple, and yellow…"

"…Pink, and green, and white..?"

"And then blue again."

Owen heaved a sigh. "Curt, there's something I have to confess. It's safe to do so now, there's little that could get in the way of what I have to admit, but this is one of those things I wouldn't be able to tell you awake, you understand?"

There was a moment's pause, in which Curt tried to work around Owen's phrasing. Both of them felt the incredibly revealing sense that they were being watched, so Curt understood that Owen had gone into the professional mindset— switching off his senses for the sake of making as much sense of something as possible. It was always how he rationalised his way through situations, and it hadn't failed him yet.

Eventually, Curt nodded again, as the words started to sink in and he started to get a sense of what was being said. "This about what you told me this evening?"

"Yeah, I'm afraid there's a little more to it than what I told you, but I suppose that was rather obvious."

A nervous breath of laughter left Curt, only partially voluntary. "I thought there'd be a bit more to it than erasing marker pen over the body of a dead soldier…. What the hell kinda explanation was that, anyway?"

"One I spent a good hour crafting, thank you very much. I thought it was clever."

"Better than a pretty lady and a box of tricks?"

"And a bear, yes."

"… And the bear. Right. Well, what's that mean? erasing marker pen over the body of a dead soldier, what're you saying there?"

"I've…" This is not going to get you done for. Those documents were already top secret before you saw them. And if it gets you out of this nightmare prison, then surely it has to be worth it. "I've been uncovering sealed military case files that might explain what's happening to us right now."

Curt's eyes went wide. "Fucking what?!"

"It's all part of the job. I can't… I can't elaborate. Know only what everyone else knows: that the only reason any part of this is disclosed at all is because someone died during one of the experiments."

"What's that got to do with what's happening here?"

"That's what they were researching."

That seemed to click to some degree. At least, Curt seemed to understand a few of the larger pieces, perhaps the more obvious ones. "The colours?" In his head, there was an experiment, someone tried to make sense of whatever that was in their shared mindscape. Someone— a soldier, presumably, had died in the middle of these experiments, and now Owen had gotten tangled in this mess through his agency, and the two of them had been dropped into the same nightmare.

Owen nodded. "The colours."

At the moment he said that, a loud rumble disrupted their moment and forced their attention out into the expanse of nothing. Laughter— multiple sources with varying shrieks and gasps that couldn't be placed to a single source— burst from behind the wings, and from in front of them, and from the endless expanse of black that surrounded them. A loud crack followed, and Curt swore as the stage splintered beneath his feet. For a split second, his grip loosensed, and the next time the ground rumbled, they were torn apart by the growing crack in the stage. He staggered back, and the two of them ended on opposite sides of the stage, the crack between them growing and delving deeper into the unknown.

"Owen!" He called, trying to regain his footing but falling back.

"Curt! Hold on!" Owen yelled through the growing laughter, scrambling back to reach out for the pulley system backstage. He needed a foothold on something, a way to sturdy himself so he could regroup and think. It was too loud, he couldn't think in this kind of heat, with this kind of mess, and Curt, and-

Another crack. The stage was starting to fall away from itself, split not quite perfectly in two. Owen's breath ran short. In the swirls of colour and mayhem and possibilities, he saw a way out. One chance to get this right, and to make sure that they both survived the fall while they were still stuck here. He gripped the rope tight, levering himself further towards the crack, and looked to Curt. "You're gonna have to jump it!" He called, desperation winning over any attempts to stay sane. "Don't worry! You know I'll never let you down!"

"Are you crazy?!" Curt managed, staring into the gap. "I can't jump that, it's too far!"

"Curt, before the whole place splits in half, you have to get over here!"

"What if I don't make it?"

"Trust me! Please!"

Curt backed off a few paces. Owen stood ready, one hand gripping the rope wrapped around his wrist, and the other reaching out as far as he could, waiting for a move to be made. After a singular preparatory breath, he sprinted for the gap, and pushed off from the splintered wood at the edge.

He reached out.

Owen reached out.

Their fingertips connected briefly in the space, and then Curt slipped away beneath his grasp.

Owen threw himself forward, feeling the rope worming itself free and burning his wrist in the process. He'd promised. He wasn't going to let Curt fall. And he was nothing if not a man of his word.

Curt's eyes squeezed shut, preparing for an endless fall through the ineviatble. Something laced around his wrist and he felt himself stop moving. Exerting all the caution he knew to exert, he looked up, and caught a familiar whiskey brown staring back at him.

"I've got you!" Owen breathed, and Curt fought to angle himself so that he could get a better chance to grab the broken stage floor. When Owen started hauling backwards, Curt managed to get a hold of the edge of the stage, and made it a joint effort to haul him to his feet. "You're alright… You're okay…"

Curt essentially fell into Owen's arms. Owen held on tight, like he could lose his partner at any second to the swirls and the crevice. He stared out into the emptiness, ignoring the very real pain that he could feel at his wrist but cherishing the very reel feeling of Curt's shirt underneath his hands. The very air seemed to shift. Owen wasn't previously aware that colours could get angry, but this green that flooded the space behind his eyes was pissed. He could feel it.

So was he. Pissed, and way more desperate than a man ought to be.

"Alright," he muttered once, and Curt drew back ever so slightly. He noticed Owen was staring off into the greater expanse, and hoped for all it was worth that he couldn't see something out there.

"Alright!" His voice got louder, and he tried to mask his utter despair in an authorative tone. "I get it. You hear me? I get it!"

Everything fell eerily silent. The only sound that remained was the pounding of Owen's heart in his ears. He took a breath, strangely certain of himself. Glanced at Curt. Spared his attention on the void again.

"That soldier… Wilbur Cross? That was your fault, wasn't it? There's a good reason nobody can get very far into digs like these, and it's because you strive to kill them before they do. Nobody ought to know what's on the other side, and that's why nobody does…"

"Owen, what're you doing?" Curt whispered, but to no response and little avail. Owen was lost in whatever he was about to say.

"… But, I've heard talk of bargains being made here, so how about it?"

"Your desperation speaks for itself."

Owen had to pretend that that— the voice from the middle of nowhere or what it had said to him— didn't bother him in the slightest. He steeled himself, not sure where to direct his attention but knowing he'd probably have it right no matter what he chose. "What do you say, am I allowed to make a deal?"

The air shifted. Owen didn't receive a direct answer, but he knew that he'd been allowed to continue. "If I don't continue— if I go back, and tell my people that it's an impossibility, that it can't be done— would you let him go?" Another quick glance at Curt, as if the green something needed clarification, or as if he knew what he was signing himself up for.

Curt was frozen in place, his eyes wide. He'd heard every word as it echoed in the void, and he hated what it was implying. His gaze was fixed on Owen, fear blazing through his face. "No, Owen—" his voice came out weak. As far as literal interpretations go, that was not a good one. He didn't understand what was happening, but it terrified him to know that Owen was being so calm about this, while he could be selling his life away with nothing more than a few choice words.

Owen frowned, and muttered an apology he was sure only Curt would catch. The green grew angrier, setting a violent fire behind his eyes and forcing him onto his knees as the pain flooded his body.

"You better not be fucking with me."

"No! I— I wouldn't! I'm serious! I'll call it off, I swear on my life, just… He has nothing to do with any of this. It's not his fault."

The thing considered, holding Owen firmly in place while he deliberated. Curt couldn't move— he didn't dare, lest something happen to Owen that put him in more danger than he was already in. All he could do was force himself into keeping his breath steady, and not thinking about what a single wrong move could do to either of them. His eyes landed on the friction burn winding neatly around Owen's wrist, and he decided to focus on that for a while; the only other colour in a void of blackness and green.

"Very well."

That was the last thing Owen heard. Some part of his mind just shut down, and he collapsed to the floor of the stage. He didn't hear the way Curt screamed his name, or the return of the chorus of laughter. His eyes closed, and the next thing he knew, he was waking up with a start, underneath the sheets of his own bed, gasping for breath. He sturdied himself out, and once he was sure that he was real, and definitely in a familiar space, he looked over to Curt, and found him still asleep.

"Curt?" His voice was soft, but his mind was a knife point of tension. If that had gone wrong, then why was he the one to live through it ant not Curt? He tried again, biting his lip. "Curt..?"

Curt groaned. His eyes opened slowly. The relief that Owen felt hit him like a tidal wave.

For some reason, Curt was entirely surprised to see that Owen had made it through to the other side. He managed a weary smile, and tried to get his vision into focus. That was one of those decisions that he immediately came to regret. As soon as he brought himself a little more into the real worls, he noticed that the brown in Owen's eyes was stained with something else, and it made him feel sick to his stomach. Dripping down his irises was a flash of toxic, unsettlingly bright green.

[harmonysanreads]

Trivia - Jeux de Vagues

I suppose this is the somewhat ‘lore’ of the aforementioned fic. I recommend reading the fic first before diving into this as this contains spoilers :> I normally wouldn't do this but per the vote of @verridaiya I was encouraged to regardless. Something to note would be that even though this is what I had in mind while writing, readers' personal interpretations are equally valid!

“Jeux de Vagues”

I mentioned this in a reblog already but the title comes from the second movement of the symphony “La Mer” by Claude Debussy, a French composer. It literally translates to ‘Play of the waves', quite fitting for a leisurely tea-party with Neuvillette, no? I also highly recommend listening to the piece in general, it might take some patience but if you love daydreaming about watching the sea waves away from your struggles as well, this is the music for you!

“6 to 12 O'clock”

Before I tell you why I'm showing this particular line, I want you guys to take a guess on what I meant by the 'noon to evening and midnight to dawn' part :>

.

.

.

One of the rules of afternoon tea etiquette is that when you stir the tea, the appropriate motion to do is a 6 to 12 O'clock (so towards yourself and away from yourself) instead of going in circles. I thought just outright saying it wouldn't be fun so I instead used the four time indicators of 6 and 12 ! But of course, this could also symbolize the duration of Reader “scheming” since the beginning of the marriage.

“Fin de siècle”

Fin de siècle is a French term meaning “end of century,” a phrase which typically encompasses both the meaning of the similar English idiom “turn of the century” and also makes reference to the closing of one era and onset of another. [Taken from Wikipedia]

I kept on thinking about how to incorporate the ‘Isolation’ theme for Yandere!Neuvillette while also respecting his ideal of fairness. In one of his voice lines, he encourages to speak-up against grave injustice. With that in mind, this idea of “Keeping Reader isolated but giving them a chance to gain freedom by debating against Neuvillette once every century” was born. If Reader can successfully prove that Neuvillette is a terrible husband or their marriage is unjust, they can leave. But obviously, that's just false hope.

“Mon trésor”

Mon trésor is a gender-neutral French term of endearment which means “My treasure” in English. Huge thank you to @cerulean-castle and @iceunhie (please excuse me if I wasn't supposed to tag you two ;—;) for responding to my cry of help for this one as I was puzzled about French terms of endearment for a while. @/iceunhie gave me the link to a post of gender-neutral French terms of endearment which I found really helpful <3

As for why I chose Mon trésor as what Neuvillette calls Reader, it was due to the specific connotations between dragons and their treasures. Or in Neuvillette's case, Reader is his treasure. Hence, after sufficiently provoked, he doesn't flinch from referring to them as ‘abandoned property’.

“The words unspoken are the flower.”

Directly quoted from Neuvillette's [About : Wriothesley] voice line. According to him, it's an Inazuman proverb which means “Some words are better left unsaid.” which is Neuvillette's answer to his subconscious question of why he goes to such lengths for Reader.

Now, you can interpret this in a variety of ways and I'll say some of the “possible” ones. Perhaps he refuses to verbalize the causes because doing so would force him to face the hypocrisy and irrationality behind his actions. Perhaps he truly doesn't know, as there are many things he's on the path to understanding. Etcetera.

I might add onto this post if anyone has more questions from the fic itself. Writing Jeux de Vagues was quite difficult because I had a deadline of sorts but I was determined to finish it. Although there might be room for further improvement, I'm still happy that I pulled it of :') I hope that at least, my love for Neuvillette's character can be felt through the fic <3

[distinguisheddwarffriend]

Today on Hobbit-Headcanons:

What would the company of Thorin Oakenshield enjoy about the Modern World?

One of my WIP transports the company to our world shortly before they're supposed to reach Rivendell, and into the apartment of my OFC.

So here is a list of things I think each character would enjoy about the Modern World:

Thorin: Google Maps, Siri (will totally argue with her like she's real), Shows like The Crown, Game of Thrones, but also Bridgerton, Democracy (yes you read that correctly), Rock music

Fili: Birth Control (can finally fuck around without risking the royal lineage), Superhero Movies (has an huuuhe crush on Black Widow), Tinder, Martial Arts, Feminism, Henley shirts to show of his muscles, bars & clubs

Kili : TikTok (LOVES cat videos, Top Content Creator about Archery, 'deep thoughts'/rambling, 'prank my uncle/brother with me', does EVERY challenge, accidental thirsttraps & flustered by the comments), Parkour, Man Buns & (Hipster-) Fashion, LGBTQ+ - Community , karaoke bars, team sports, the zoo

Bofur: modern music (especially pop songs with dirty lyrics), Tumblr (is no. 1 shit-poster), music festivals, arts&crafts blogs, Christopher's Streets Day

Bifur: Google Translate, Modern Medicine, Pain Medication, ASL, RomComs (trust me), helps out in an animal shelter, country music

Bombur: Cooking Shows (has his own Online Show), Kindergarten (he had so many children, the reprieve would be SO appreciated), international foodstuff to try

Dwalin: Guns, MMF, store-bought cookies, sport shows (AGRESSIVE fan for whatever team he randomly picks), Barbecues

Balin: Twitter (the political possibilities!!!), mental healthcare (he's sending the whole line of Durin he had no time for their shit), Spa Days, public schools, classical music

Oin: Modern Medicine (Duh), hearing aids, physiotherapy

Gloin: bitcoins, the stock market, Facebook (posts daily about Gimli)

Dori: hair tutorials, fashion shows, tracking devices (has totally microchipped a drunk Nori at some point)

Nori: hacking, movies with the lovable rogue as the MC (Pirates of the Carribbean, Deadpool etc.), spy movies (duh), the mafia (yes, he becomes a boss within weeks)

Ori: Wikipedia, public libraries, tutorials for EVERYTHING (knitting, cutting your own hair, how to talk to royalty, fancy war cries, you name it), fantasy novels, public schools

Bilbo: Food blogs, the "ignore call"-button, Instagram, university (will mayor in at least three subjects), museums

Gandalf: the Internet as a whole, email/ instant messaging, yard sales, modern weed, museums (has a knack for finding cursed items), adventure movies (after watching Indiana Jones he seriously debated obtaining a whip)

[r-aindr0p]

To think I’m going to have to wait one year until I seize this guy by his uniform bell the second his banner is here…

Same song I took the lyrics from for a previous post. "Belle" from the french musical version of Notre dame de Paris

[queerdraws]

Disco Elysium & Language

Okay okay so a bit ago I (foolishly) decided to (poorly) translate all 200-something pages of A Sacred and Terrible Air, despite having zero experience with Estonian whatsoever (so, you know, take what I’m saying here with a huge grain of salt).

There’s a small thing that gets lost in the translation from Estonian to English, the object of my obsession: The Pale

Its original Estonian counterpart is ”halli” (which essentially functions as “the gray” [a part of a whole], as opposed to “hall”, which is just “gray” [a color]).  Hall and Pale are both used to describe the color of skin due to No Blood.  They have similar connotations & uses.

Easy-peasy.  Let’s look at the Chapter 15 title “Hallitus”.  Hey, that looks kinda familiar, I see a “halli” in there.

First we gotta backtrack.  Hallitus is just a noun derived from the verb hallitama.

Hallitama is built from “hall” (”gray”) plus -tama (suffix for making a noun in to a verb, generally means “to make”).  So, hallitama would (should?) literally mean “to make gray” or “graying”. BUT!  It actually means “to mold”.  Like an apple being coated in a gray fuzz, hallitama is “to mold / to go moldy”.  Oooh!

So “hallitus” means “moldy”.  But it also, sorta, means “grayed thing”/”pale’d thing”.

So, we have this word that’s used to describe all sorts of manner of withering, decaying, frail, or dead things.

I don’t know, it tickles the brain.

[lee-hakhyun]

i see people thinking that the side story is the bad ending for kim dokja. and don't get me wrong, he doesn't come back after the door opens, but that is because kimcom CHOSE that.

they had the option to open a door where kim dokja woke up, but they chose to go through the door where he doesn't wake up because they know that first door is a trap (like 49/51), and they want all of kim dokja. and when they go through, kim dokja is gone, but he's left a note. he is STILL OUT THERE (and part of him is with lhh right now. it's complicated)

anyway this is just to say KIM DOKJA IS BACK IN THE SIDE STORY. he is just not with kimcom *yet*. i need to make this clear because i keep seeing people saying things that sound like people think he's gone for real in the side story.

[voidedjuice]

Don't feel like writing today so here's a slight design update for Airi instead

[coquelicoq]

i like the natsume dub, but i'm glad i watched it with subs first. for one thing, the japanese voice acting simply cannot be beat. for another, the dub translates nicknames into english - for instance, the little tatsumi that hatches from an egg, turning natsume into a teen dad, is called "eggy" in the dub instead of "tama" (which unless i'm mistaken is a shortened form of the japanese word for "egg") - which isn't a bad thing, but it does end up creating the possibility of a little misunderstanding once you get to taki's first episode. because if you couldn't hear the japanese, and you were accustomed to characters getting jokey english nicknames like eggy, and you heard that a character who hadn't talked for almost a year was named something that sounded phonetically like "talkie", would you assume that she had a completely different name in japanese that was a pun on the japanese word for "talk"? because that's probably what i would have assumed lol. but luckily i watched it in japanese with subs first, so. crisis averted!

[jyndor]

why are people shocked that h*mas has treated the hostages with respect does anyone understand what the strategic point in taking hostages is? the whole point is to make sure they're okay and well-cared for because otherwise there's no leverage for negotiations. do i think the hostages are actually sooo thankful to the hostages for being so nice to them and their children? i don't know, i mean i wouldn't be surprised either way - hard to be thankful for being taken hostage but i can also imagine feeling pleasantly surprised when you are treated with respect and dignity by h*mas when they take you hostage.

i'm not saying taking hostages is good i cannot believe i have to say that but people will read that and say "ooHOOO so you're saying h*mas is good and kind, you're falling for propaganda!!!" no i am just using my brain. unlike everyone who is against a ceasefire at the bare minimum, because apparently yall are okay with the rest of the hostages being in harm's way.

not to mention the entirety of the palestinian population in the gaza strip are hostages essentially and the palestinian prisoners have NOT been treated with such dignity and respect for their wellbeing. but again, treating the hostages you've taken with respect is the barest of bare minimums.

[britneyshakespeare]

So yesterday I read "Slimed with Gravy, Ringed by Drink" by Camille Ralphs, an article from the Poetry Foundation on the publication of the First Folio in 1623, a major work without which most of Shakespeare's plays might very well have been lost today, possibly the most influential secular work of literature in the world, you know.

It's a good article overall on the history and mysteries of the Folio. Lots of interesting stuff in there including how Shakespeare has been adapted, the state of many surviving Folios, theories of its accuracy to the text, a really interesting identification of John Milton's own copy currently in the Free Library of Philadelphia, and the fascinating annotations that may have influenced Milton's own poetry!!! Do read it. It's not an atrociously long article but there's a lot of thought-provoking information in there.

There's one paragraph in particular I keep coming back to though, so I'm just gonna quote it down here:

...[T]he Play on Shakespeare series, published by ACMRS Press, the publications division of the Arizona Center for Medieval and Renaissance Studies at Arizona State University... grew out of the Oregon Shakespeare Festival’s plan to “translate” Shakespeare for the current century, bills itself “a new First Folio for a new era.” The 39 newly-commissioned versions of Shakespeare’s plays were written primarily by contemporary dramatists, who were asked to follow the reasonable principle laid out by series editor Lue Douthit: tamper in the name of clarification but submit to “do no harm.” The project was inspired by something the linguist John McWhorter wrote in 1998: “[the] irony today is that the Russians, the French, and other people in foreign countries possess Shakespeare to a much greater extent than we do … [because] they get to enjoy Shakespeare in the language they speak.”

Mainly it's the John McWhorter thing I keep coming back to. Side note: any of my non-native-English-speaking mutuals who have read Shakespeare, I would love to know your experiences. If you have read him in translation, or in the original English, or a mix of both. It's something I do wonder about! Even as an Anglophone reader, I find my experience varies so much just based on which edition of the text I'm reading and how it's presented. There's just so much variety in how to read literature and I would love to know what forces have shaped your own relationships to the stories. But anyway...

The article then goes on to talk about how the anachronistic language in Shakespeare will only fall more and more out of intelligibility for everyone because of how language evolves and yadda yadda yadda. I'm not going to say that that's wrong but I think it massively overlooks the history of the English language and how modern standard English became modern standard English.

First of all, is Shakespeare's language completely unintelligible to native English speakers today? No. Certain words and grammatical tenses have fallen out of use. Many words have shifted in meaning. But with context aiding a contemporary reader, there are very few lines in Shakespeare where the meaning can be said to be "unknown," and abundant lines that are perfectly comprehensible today. On the other hand, it's worth mentioning how many double entendres are well preserved in modern understanding. And additionally, things like archaic grammar and vocabulary are simply hurdles to get over. Once you get familiarized with your thees and thous, they're no longer likely to trip you up so much.

But it's also doubtful that 400 years from now, as the article suggests, our everyday language will be as hard to understand for twenty-fifth century English speakers to comprehend. The English language has significantly stabilized due to colonialism and the international adoption of English as a lingua franca. There are countless dialects within English, but what we consider to be standard international "correct" English will probably not change so radically, since it is so well and far established. The development and proliferation of modern English took a lot of blood and money from the rest of the world, the legacy of which can never be fully restored.

And this was just barely in sight by the time that Shakespeare died. This is why the language of the Elizabethans and Jacobeans is early-modern English. It forms the foundations of modern English, hence why it's mostly intelligible to speakers today, but there are still many antiquated figures within it. Early-modern English was more fluid and liberal. Spelling had not been standardized. Many regions of England still had slight variations in preferences for things like pronouns and verb conjugation. We see this even in works Shakespeare cowrote with the likes of Fletcher and Middleton, as the article points out. Shakespeare's vocabulary may not just reflect style and sentiment, but his Stratford background. His preferences could be deemed more "rustic" than many of his peers reared in London.

Features that make English more consistent now were not formalized yet. That's why Shakespeare sounds so "old." It's not just him being fancy. And there's also the fact that blank verse plays are an entirely neglected art nowadays. Regardless of the comprehensibility of the English, it's still strange for modern audiences uninitiated to Elizabethan literature to sit there and watch a King drop mad poetry about his feelings on stage by himself. The form and style of the entire genre is off.

But that, to me, is why we should read Shakespeare. We SHOULD be challenged. It very much IS within the grasp of a literate adult fluent in English to read one of his plays, in a modern edition with proper assistance and context. It is GOOD to be acquainted with something unfamiliar to us, but within our reach. I'm serious. I do not think I'm so much smarter than everyone else because I read Shakespeare. I don't just read the plain text as it was printed in the First Folio! The scholarship exists which has made Shakespeare accessible to me, and I take advantage of that access for my own pleasure.

This is to say that I disagree with the notion that Shakespeare is better suited to be enjoyed in foreign tongues. I think that's quite a complacent, modern American take. Not to say that the sentiment of McWhorter is wrong; I get what he's saying. And it's quite a beautiful thing that Shakespeare's plays are still so commonly staged, although arguably that comes from a false notion in our culture that Shakespeare is high literature worth preserving, at the expense of the rest of time and history. It is true that his body of work has such a high level of privilege in the so-called Western literary canon that either numerous other writers equally deserve, or no writer ever could possibly deserve.

The effort that goes into making Shakespeare's twenty-first century legacy, though, is a half-assed one. So much illustrious praise and deification of the individual and his works, and yet not as much to understanding the context of his time and place, of his influences, forms, and impacts on the eras which proceeded him. Shakespeare seems to exist in a vacuum with his archaic language, and we read it once or twice in high school when we're forced to, with prosaic translations on the adjoining page. This does not inspire a true appreciation in a culture for Shakespeare but it does reinforce a stereotype that he must be somehow important. It's this shallow stereotype that makes it seem in many minds today that it would be worth it to rip the precise language out of the text of a poet, and spit back out an equivalent "modern translation."