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ezralva · 5 months

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As expected they lengthened the scene so much and so beautiful they made Nanami solo-dancing in the beach with that happy and serene smile and that fckin' Yuri on Ice bgm playing...

im not shedding tears...

I'm just broken and tattered like this boy...

#we really not going to see this man until ch 236 is animated?!#and nobunaga shimazaki omg he's just so unhinged as mahito cant get any better than that #nanamin #nanami kento #Tsuda ken's voice during that dancing scene ahhhh #yuji itadori #enoki-san having rough time for 2 weeks #itadori yuuji #kento nanami #jujutsu kaisen #jjk spoilers #anime #ep 42

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waytoooldforthissh · 6 months

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Breaking Jacks' curse and mine

One of the main comments I’ve seen on ACFTL is that there were lots of questions that did not feel answered. Many of those involve Jacks’ curse.

The curse:

I, personally, am also cursed. I am cursed to wake up in the middle of the night with this stupid answer. and spend an hour hunting down quotes.

I don’t know what Stephanie intended, but I do think the answer helped.

The answer, obviously, requires so many spoilers

The kissing curse on Jacks was broken by Vampire Venom in OUABH when Jacks pushed Evangeline out of the way of Luc.

Relevant Events

Jacks hair is blue when we meet him in the North after the events of Finale. He has a scar where Tella stabbed him. There is no mention of whether his heart beat after the stabbing. Ch 14.

He uses his poison blood to “break Apollo’s spell” (poison Apollo) after the wedding. Kissing curse presumably still in play. Ch. 34

Enter Luc

Luc comes to Chaos to get Vampire Venom to cure his unsexy scars. Ch. 42.

Luc realizes, for the first time, that he must have had a love spell on him. Ch. 42.

Vampire Venom cured Luc of Marisol’s spell

Jacks pushes Evangaline out of the way of Luc, getting infected with Vampire venom himself. Ch. 42.

Shortly after, Evangaline notices that Jacks’ hair is gold again. Ch. 43

“His heart. It was really beating.” Ch. 46 Evangeline is shocked to hear Jacks’ heart beating. Its the first mention of it since his intro in the North.

And these next points are critical AND SPOILERS:

One way or another, Aurora placed the curse on Jacks. Its not a mythical curse placed by Fate. Some jealous bitch like Maarisol just dropped a spell on him.

JACKS DOES NOT KISS ANYONE IN OUABH, TBONA, or ACFTL *UNTIL* HE KISSES EVANGaLINE

He tries, but Evangeline stops him at the party is TBONA.

Aurora’s kissing curse was cured by the vampire venom.

OUABH, Ch. 1.

In ACFTL we learn that there are two versions of the curse. Jacks’ cure works either way.

Aurora says:

She is about as trustworthy as a tarantula, but that story curse does like to change endings.

If Aurora really did curse Jacks’ heart only to beat for someone who could never love him, then Tella survived because she didn’t love him, but Aurora’s petty curse was broken just like Marisol’s love spell by the vampire venom in OUABH.

But, Jacks’ cure also fits the original curse:

Not capable of love because his heart stopped

Only one person can make it work, his one true love

His kiss was fatal to all but her

His only weakness

Like all prophecies and curses in stories, you got to read them a little backwards. Evangaline was Jacks’ weakness. Without thinking, he jumped in front of Luc, pulling her out of danger. His selfless protection of her caused him to be exposed to vampire venom, the strongest known cure. The vampire venom restarting his heart after he was stabbed in Finale. And, as far as he is concerned, Evangeline is the only one who can survive his kiss because she is the only one he has or will kiss.

This version is satisfying to me, because its Jacks’ selfless act that leads to his freedom. He does not know it yet, but she has already saved him.

Like Jacks, I have wasted my morning writing this for others and I am also free.

#acftl #a curse for true love #acftl spoilers #acftl theories #tbona #the ballad of never after #ouabh #ouabh spoilers #evangeline fox #jacks prince of hearts #evangeline x jacks #evajacks #send help #good omens spoilers

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uhhhandskullanon · 8 months

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ISTANBUL (NOT CONSTANINOPLE) - THEY MIGHT BE GIANTS . yandere platonic fyolai DOA + ADA x reader fic NOTES (part 3 : spoilers for future part :3) . possible spoilers for ch. 57+, ep. 42+, and kamui identity part one | part two

❝even old new york, was once new amsterdam...❞

reader jumps off building and starts doing sm crazy parkour shi from balcony to balcony (learned from time w agency)

reaches floor n SPEEDS AWAY like a PUSSY /j

fyodorat and nikolalallala come too late n they see reader speeding off wo sparing them another glance

get very angrye

two bfs have angrery doa meeting

reader has some plot bullshit sense of direction and finds ranpo (yippee >< !!)

ranpo + poe + reader save dilf man

while this happen other doa member get obsessed w reader too (oof sucks to suck LSOERR)

sigma > mutual feeling of being trapped w crazy homosexuals makes him bond w u despite never once have spoken to u

bram > idfk pretend he sees shi thru the vamps n he sees u n u remind him of liek some long time friend reincarnation shit like w aya idfk

kamui/fu(c)kuchi > ermm well so like yeah idk ill make sm bs up later

reader meets up w kunikissdaman n liek idk fluff moment yay

disaster😱!!!

reader = kidnapped by vampire

ada = chaos

fyodor = jail

dazai = jail

dazai v fyodor evil discussion ovr reader

ermmm reader get dragged to leik merusault bc fukuchi n bram wanna meet them

sigma finds them halfway

gains readers trust via half-truths

reader gets dragged awya AGAON

meets bram > seems cool

meet fukuchi > hates but hifes it bcc no wanna die

thats all i got for now JSJSJ

❝...why they changed it, i can't say, people just liked it better that way!❞

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princessofmerchants · 2 months

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Cassian dreaming of Gwydion and foreshadowing Ataraxia and his own HEA 😭🙌🏻

[Cassian observing Ataraxia on Rhys's desk]

"The great sword's hilt was a simple cross guard, the pommel a rounded bit of metal.

Gwydion, the last of the magic swords, had been dark as night and as beautiful.

How many games had Cassian played as a child with Rhys and Azriel, where a long stick had been a stand-in for Gwydion? How many adventures had they imagined, sharing that mythical sword between them, as they slew wyrms and rescued damsels?

Never mind that Rhys's particular damsel had slain a wyrm herself and rescued him instead."

—ACOSF, ch. 42

My absolute favorite HOFAS spoiler after the break as I lose my mind over this moment in ACOSF after having read HOFAS 🥹

I am screaming at how this moment is in ACOSF, Nessian's book — then cut to HOFAS where Cassian's badass mate Nesta slays a damned wyrm with the same magical sword he's looking at here (which she herself Made by the way 💁🏼‍♀️), the same one that makes him think of Gwydion, which in fact is in his very same mate's possession by the end of HOFAS 😭🙌🏻‼️

All the times I read this before HOFAS, there was always something kind of bittersweet and sad about the way Cass's train of thought here ends on Rhys and Feyre and how badass his High Lady is, and how grateful Cass clearly is for the way she saves his brother by loving him...

I always assumed SJM was partly leaning into the fairytale trope of dragon slaying by looking back to that very first book in the series where she brought the Middengard Wyrm onto the page and used it to further characterize her main heroine at the time, Feyre.

Little did we know SJM, with this moment in ACOSF, was also pointing to the future and, for Cassian in particular, creating an echo simultaneously forward and back in time to when his own mate would go on to not only slay the same kind of wyrm, but would do it wielding the immense power of the very same new magical sword, Ataraxia, on the table before him — and only because he loves her and trains her to wield it 😭🙌🏻

Cass is filled with such longing in this moment. I'm floored in the most amazing SJM-induced way that this longing ABSOLUTELY gets fulfilled.

And again, in past readings of ACOSF that fulfillment was legible in part by how at the end of ACOSF Nes finally claims Cass as her mate then literally saves him when she erupts and Un-Makes Briallyn, in whose thrall he is trapped. That was always amazing enough, a beautiful HEA in its own right.........

BUT TO THIS CASS OF ACOSF CH. 42 I SAY: YOU HAVE NO IDEA OF THE RICHES OF DREAMS FULFILLED YOUR HAPPILY EVERY AFTER WITH NESTA HAS IN STORE 😭 JUST YOU WAIT MY DUDE

(Can you even imagine how Cassian must have felt, what his reaction was when Nesta came home after her adventures with Bryce in the tunnels under Prythian, and he learned what Nesta did to that wyrm with Ataraxia? He must have melted into a mated puddle of goo to the tune of "That's my fucking mate, y'all!" 🥹)

#just losing my mind over here #nessian #acosf reread post hofas #post hofas discussion #hofas spoilers #cassian #nesta archeron #pro cassian #pro nesta #ataraxia #gwydion #sarah j maas #acosf #a court of silver flames #house of flame and shadow

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d3sire-97 · 24 days

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Tierlist!

My Danganronpa Opinion Tier-list (With rankings, EX./10 and reasons why they're ranked that way below.) (I've only played the first two games, so the V3 ones might not be accurate.)

SOME SPOILERS AHEAD

FAVOURITES:

Kiyotaka Ishimaru - AMAZING CHARACTER, I LOVE HIM SO MUCH, LITERALLY KIN HIM SO MUCH, love the VA, hated his death and trial. - 10/10

Mondo Owada - He's also the best, I love his design, his character, his VA, his motive, his trial, his execution was kinda.... BUT I STILL LOVE MONDO - 10/10

Sonia Nevermind - She's so funny and her ftes are great! So good and love her in trials. Great VA, sondam is awesome. - 9/10

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu - Great Ch.Development after chp2 love him so much. - 9/10

Gundham Tanaka - I love him SO MUCH he's amazing and funny and his execution made me cry alot. Sondam for life - 9/10

I just realised Ishida wasn't on this list but Jill/Syo was, so I'm putting him below:

#. Kiyondo Ishida - Literally an icon. Wished he was in a trial with Syo. 8.8/10

Love:

6. Sayaka Maizono - I used to hate her lol, love this queen. - 8.7/10

7. Mikan Tsumiki - I might get hate for this one... - 8.5/10

8. Sakura Ogami - A sweetheart and a hero - 8.3/10

9. Chihiro Fujisaki - He's so cute I wanna pat him on the head - 8.3/10

10. Akane Owari - Underrated, love her. - 8/10

11. Hajime Hinata - Best Protag - 7.9/10

12. Kaito Momota - He believes in Gonta - 7.8/10

13. Shuichi Saihara - Pretty cool ngl I like him :3 - 7.8/10

14. Ryoma Hoshi - Underrated like Akane - 7.7/10

Like/Love:

15. Chiaki Nanami - Her FTEs are cute. Noble character. Love her. - 7.6/10

16. Nagito Komaeda - A TINY bit overrated but I still love him - 7.5/10

17. Aoi Asahina - Relatable Queen - 7.4/10

18. Genocider Syo/Jill - She's much funnier than Toko tbh. - 7.4/10

19. Byakuaya Togami - Why did I put him next to Syo lol - 7.3/10

20. Kazuichi Souda - Shark guy. Funny. He's pretty good :) - 7.2/10

21. Peko Pekoyama - Sweet character, AMAZING EXECUTION - 7.1/10

22. Nekomaru Nidai - SO UNDERRATED - 7/10

23. Kaede Akamatsu - Probably would put higher if I had played V3 - 7/10

24. Gonta Gokuhara - Super nice and sweet :) - 7/10

25. K1-B0 (Keebo) - He's actually a cutie patootie - 7/10

Like:

26. Makoto Naegi - THE CUTIE PATOOTIE - 6.9/10

27. Kyoko Kirigiri - Nice, but I couldn't love her character like everybody else tbh- - 6.8/10

28. Leon Kuwata - Chill dude, him and Ibuki probs good friends. - 6.7

29. Kokichi Ouma - He's pretty cool, good VA, cooked in his trial. - 6.7

30. Ibuki Mioda - Funny, sweet, a tiny bit overrated. My mum called her a furry once- - 6.5

31. Monokuma - How can you not like the mascot y'all- - 6.4 bc he killed my faves :,)

32. Rantaro Amami - He's cool, but idk him well. Wish we got to see his character more. - 6.3

33. Korekiyo Shinguji - Chill guy, interesting, weird subplot. - 6.2

34. Himiko Yumeno - Overhated tbh, cute, nice, cries a bit too much. - 6.1/10

35. Maki Harukawa - Not a big fan of the quiet brooding ch. but Idk her well so I won't judge too much. :) - 6/10

Neutrual - Like:

36. Celestia Ludenburg - She's pretty cool, trash motive, lied about Taka. That's the reason she isn't higher. 5.9/10

37. Toko Fukawa - A bit creepy, weird, but I still like her. Glad she survived tho tbh. - 5.8/10

38. Tenko Chabashira - Idk her charcater, I just know her "degenerate male" thingy, which is... interesting... no hate tho - 5.7/10

39. Mukuro Ikusaba - Wish she was in THH longer! OMG FAKE-JUNKO WAS SO COOL! Didn't see enough of her to rate higher. - 5.6/10

40. Izuru Kamakura - Cool concept, overrated tho- 5.5/10

41. Junko Enoshima - Cool ch. shit motive. Killed my faves- 5.3/10

42. Imposter/"Byakuya" - Good in SDR2 but didn't see enough of him :( - 5.2/10

43. Usami/Monomi - Cute mascot but I skipped her ALL of her dialogue because she annoyed TF out of me. - 5.1/10

44. Tsumugi Shirogane - GREAT VA but, I kinda don't know what to think about her. - 5.1/10

Neutral:

45. Yasuhiro Hagakure - A bit of a silly-billy, I dunno how he survived. He's closer to like than dislike tho. 5/10

46. Kirumi Tojo - She has the same VA as Hiyoko. HOW. Anyways, talented VA, cool execution, wish we got to see more of her tho. 5/10

47. Monodam - Apparently not as bad at the other ones? Byakuyas VA- 5/10

Neutral-Dislike:

48. Angie Yonaga - PRETTY DESIGN, GREAT VA, still not sure about her tho tbh... 4.6/10

49. Mahiru Koizumi - Boring, annoying, complains alot tbh, had great potential which wasn't used well. - 4.4/10

50. Teruteru Hanamura - Kinda... interesting. Surprisingly humane motive. I actually prefer him to Mahiru now... 4.3/10 (changed to 4.5/10)

Dislike:

51. Miu Iruma - There's alot to say about this girl... uh... 4.2/10

52. Hiyoko Saionji - Insufferable. I hate her, WHINY AND ANNOYING, I skipped all her dialogue. 3/10

53. Hifumi Yamada - I hate him, but I put him in this category bc why not. Skipped all of his dialogue, he annoyed me so much. I ignored him. He killed Taka for no reason. 2.5/10 because he was helpful in one trial.

HATE:

All the Monokubs, except I forgot their names. Incest weirdos, no point in the whole thing. 2/10

Anyway, my ranking is a bit controversial, so tell me what you guys think! <3

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perhaps-in-anotherdream · 11 months

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[CN] Victor x MC – S2 CH 46 (Eng Translation - Part 1)

“All I know is that I really want to see her.”

“The moment I heard him speak, I felt as if a soft voice in my mind was whispering to me, reassuring me that it was okay not to be so strong right now.”

⌚ This post contains detailed spoilers for a chapter that is yet to be released on the global server. ⌚

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

[Notes from Anika]: I’m currently working on adding subtitles to the chapter, so I’ll save myself the hassle of adding many sprites, and probably will be skipping on adding notes for voice acting too, otherwise I’d have to do it for every line he says ahah- ಥ﹏ಥ

—

【CH 45-1, Victor part】

[Note]: The first part is the continuation of S2 CH 42-15, where it was shown that Victor and Kiro had met up in Paris. Another important segment of Victor’s “taking care of everything” before the inevitable happened. (TдT)

—

Half a month ago, in Paris.

The patter of raindrops falls rhythmically on the glass windows, accompanied by the melodious tune from the vinyl record.

As if treading on the beats, the door of the room is pushed open. A dazzling blond figure appears at the entrance.

Kiro’s gaze sweeps over the figures in the shadows of the room before finally landing straight on Victor, who is sitting in the center.

Kiro: The BOSS specially arranged a meeting with me at a secret location in Paris. So, I guess there must be an important matter to discuss.

As Kiro speaks, he walks directly to the seat opposite Victor and sits down, slightly raising his chin.

Kiro: Well, let’s begin.

Victor: I only have one thing to announce.

Victor’s gaze briefly intersects with Kiro’s, but soon shifts towards the figures in the dark corners.

Victor: Starting today, he will be the new BOSS of BS.

Victor’s deep voice resonates throughout the room, eliciting a collective gasp of astonishment.

The conference room lapses into a deathly silence, and no one utters a word. The bewildered and uncertain gazes of those lurking in the shadows silently exchange their thoughts.

Even in Kiro’s own eyes, a subtle hint of being astounded passes by, almost imperceptible.

But he quickly suppresses it, as if entering a state, and immediately displays a smile that says, “as expected.”

Hades: Since when did a test subject become worthy of being the BOSS?

Hades’s voice breaks the silence. He is the first to step out of the shadows, confronting Victor and Kiro directly.

Hades: Such a loser has no right to dictate and interfere with us.

Kiro: …

Kiro lifts his eyes, and within his radiant golden eyes, a smile filled with arrogance can be seen.

Kiro: Regarding this matter, you have no authority to intervene.

—

[Note]: From here onwards, we’re back to the present day, i.e., following the days after S2 CH 44~ do note that it’s been 15 days since the lantern festival of CH 44, but when MC says “two months” later, she is referring to all the events that took place before, minus the moments spent with Victor (TдT)

—

The early morning sunlight spills onto the desk covered with scattered documents.

Since Chen Hui was taken away by the city hall, the investigation has temporarily reached a conclusion. The company’s files and materials that were previously seized are gradually being returned.

However, following this, there has been an overwhelming influx of various government approvals and media interview articles.

The consecutive and complex tasks for over two months have been suffocating, leaving me gasping for air. I can only find small moments to do ordinary work in between and relieve stress.

I shake my hands vigorously as I prepare to submit the proposal to LFG, sighing subconsciously.

Anna: Haven’t all the issues been resolved? Why are you still heaving deep sighs?

MC: There are still so many formalities to be completed; just the thought of it gives me a headache.

MC: Luckily, all the relevant documents for the redevelopment plan have been retrieved, so it won’t affect the subsequent regular work.

MC: The several projects that were temporarily put on hold during the investigation can now be resumed. Anna, I appreciate your hard work in following up on them.

Anna: Don’t worry, I’ll take care of these things. And as for you, have you forgotten about the medical check-up again?

It’s only when Anna mentions it that I remember. The company’s annual medical examination deadline is approaching, and we’ve recently organized a round of group check-ups for everyone.

I didn’t participate in the medical check-up at that time because I was busy with the Chen Hui issue. After returning from the Lantern Festival, I remained holed up in the office dealing with various matters, and now the time has flown by.

Lantern Festival… as the two words inadvertently pop into my head, a series of gentle waves spreads in my heart. I don’t know why, but I have a feeling that I’ve forgotten something very important.

Anna: What’s on your mind, MC? Remember to make an appointment.

MC: …hmm, okay. I promise to go for the medical check-up once I’m done with my tasks! Right now, I’m heading to LFG for a routine report.

Anna: Isn’t the routine report to LFG always sent electronically?

I look at Anna in puzzlement, only to see an even more bewildered look on her face.

MC: Electronically?

I’m stumped momentarily, feeling like something has fleetingly passed through my mind, but I can’t grab hold of it.

Yeah, that’s right. Of course! It has always been the practice to submit electronic documents. How could I even forget about this?

Ever since receiving investment from LFG, all the major decisions have been conducted through online communication, with e-mail approvals, and the number of actual visits to LFG in person has been few and far between.

A familiar sense of dissonance suddenly surges within me, as if a vital part has been wiped away from my life in a mere moment, leaving no trace behind.

Perhaps noticing my unsettling expression, Anna pats me on the shoulder.

Anna: I told you that you’re too tired. Go back early today and get some rest.

I nod my head and sit back down in my seat, then proceed to open the emails on my desktop.

Indeed, the email contains the routine report for LFG, and reviewing the email history, I can see that it has always been sent as electronic manuscripts to LFG in the past.

Could it be that the delay has caused a memory bias? I shake my head. After briefly checking the document, I click the “send” button.

With the end of the workday drawing near, I set aside the lingering unsettling feeling for now and prepare to go home early and rest.

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【CH 46-1, Victor part】

As is usual LOL, through various twists and turns, following the events of the prev. CH, MC finds herself being engulfed by a strong force and ends up in the familiar white desert—

The event MC gets flashbacks of is the white desert scene of S2 CH 37 and meeting a Victor with no memories. But since Victor is erased from everyone’s memories now, the details are blurred for MC even though she desperately tries to recall~ (TдT)

—

MC: This place…

Before my eyes stretches an endless expanse of pure white desert, blending seamlessly with the distant horizon.

Waves of heat surge towards me, causing a thin sheen of sweat to form on my forehead, unbeknownst to me.

A sense of déjà vu at the sight makes me freeze in place––

I have been here before.

I feel as if a comet is reversing above my head, taking me back to that chaotic and disorderly space-time overlap incident.

Back then, after Shaw and I mistakenly stepped on that glowing boundary line, I inexplicably found myself falling into this eerie white desert.

MC: That’s right… I had walked here for a long time…

MC: And then, I… huh?

How did I eventually return to Loveland City?

?? (little boy, in flashback): Don’t waste your breath.

?? (little boy, in flashback): You had just fallen into a disordered space. If it weren’t for the CORE on you, I wouldn’t have been able to locate you among countless intricate dimensions.

Ah, yes. Afterward, I was taken out of the desert by that mysterious person from the Black Cabin.

MC: …no, that’s not right.

As if to deny my own memories, I practically cry out.

MC: [yelling] NO!!

Before returning to Loveland City, I had clearly met someone in this desert.

Furthermore, that person should be someone really important to me.

Swirling in the rising heat, a blurry figure emerges in the distant horizon, but it only manifests for a mere second before abruptly dissipating.

It feels as though both the blazing sun and the illusion are jeering at me. If that person is so important to me, why is my memory failing me?

Lost in thought, I stand amidst the deadly silence of the sand dunes, the grains beneath my feet slowly swallowing my ankles, as if quietly trying to drag me into the sea of sand.

—

MC wearily walks through the desert, trying to find a way out. Finally, she finds a totem, and upon touching it, she is taken out of this dimension and into ruins, where she meets Shaw cue. Shaw’s part in the update~

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【CH 46-8】

[Anika’s Notes]: One thing I want to mention before starting, throughout the entire chapter, Victor is referred as “男人” (man) while his character is defined as “Others,” unlike how his name would’ve been shown as 李泽言 (Li Zeyan) had this whole oblivion thing not happened. I’ve already wailed over it in my twitter thread, so not gonna do that again LOL. I will, however, write his name as “Man (Victor).” Otherwise, I don’t think I’ll be able to do this shit–– （ ꐦꉺωꉺ)つ)`Д˚)꘎༄ؘ

—

After parting ways with Shaw, and in the plane on her way to Loveland City—

—

After being away for two days, the unread messages and e-mails have piled up like a mountain. As I quickly scroll down with my finger, I happen to tap on a message that has already been read.

“——Hello, Miss MC. Thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule to attend tonight’s networking event. I will be at the venue on the cruise ship, and I sincerely look forward to your presence…”

I blink my eyes, and then it dawns on me that a few days ago, I did receive an invitation from a business partner.

MC: Oh, yes! I almost forgot about this... Luckily, I can still make it in time.

After confirming the time for the evening cruise event, I quickly respond to several messages from my business partners. It’s only after hearing the broadcast reminder to turn off the devices that I finally put my phone down.

The past few days have been filled with such diverse and bizarre experiences that when I close my eyes, images of what I saw in the ruins flash through my mind.

Who exactly was that blurry figure? Why were there so many identical figures around that person?

And what is the connection between those overlapping points of light and the heart of the world...

Lost in my thoughts, I unconsciously sketch out that pattern in my mind. Inexplicably, a familiar warmth gradually begins to well up within me.

Unwittingly, my palm curls up, and a sudden surge of power sweeps over me. Before I can even react, everything before my eyes starts spinning.

The soft seat behind me abruptly vanishes, leaving me without anything to lean on. Caught off guard, I take a few steps back.

Suddenly, my feet sink into softness, as if I have stepped onto a sandy terrain.

MC: Why am I here again––?!

Unlike the calm and tranquil white desert from before, the quicksand this time is exceptionally swift and violent. Before I can even let out a cry of alarm, it engulfs my calves.

I quickly lift my leg, attempting to free my feet from the quicksand. However, with the slightest movement, my body begins to uncontrollably sink further. In a matter of seconds, it has already reached my knees.

MC: …I’m done for!

The image of being swallowed by the quicksand races through my mind, and I instinctively struggle, but the sinking speed only accelerates.

?? (Victor): Stop flailing about.

In the next second, a deep voice suddenly reaches my ears.

I restrain my instinct to struggle and cease my movements, listening as the voice resounds once again.

?? (Victor): Now, lie down on your back and keep your body flat.

MC: …b-but I’ll end up sinking if I do that!

?? (Victor): If you continue like this, you will only sink faster.

The other party’s voice is not sharp, yet it inexplicably makes one want to have faith in the person.

Gritting my teeth, I fight back my fear and gradually lay down in the quicksand behind me. The warm grains of sand slowly surge up, almost drowning my ears, until they finally come to a halt.

Just as I breathe a sigh of relief and try to clearly see the source of the voice, the surroundings are suddenly engulfed in a swirling sandstorm.

The moment I try to speak, dust fills my mouth, making it difficult to breathe. I struggle to lower my head and suddenly feel a strong hand gripping my wrist.

?? (Victor): [incomparably anxious] Hold on to me tightly!

Even though I can’t see the other person’s face clearly, I instinctively hold onto his hand, reminiscent of clinging to the last piece of driftwood, and slowly shift my body.

The wind and sand brush against my face, leaving a sensation of pain akin to being cut by a sharp blade, which only intensifies the anguish in my heart.

If this continues, we will both be swallowed by the quicksand. What else can we possibly do…

As I struggle, the power within me seems to respond to my will to survive, burning fervidly in my chest.

It seems to have an impact as the surrounding sandstorm abruptly weakens a little. The hand gripping mine exerts a sudden force, pulling me out of the whirlpool in an instant.

I fall to my knees in exhaustion and apply all my strength to get back on my feet, only to find that my hands and legs have gone limp.

I can only gasp for breath, allowing uncontrollable tears to roll down my eyes. It takes me a while before I lift my head in lingering apprehension.

MC: [crying] Th-thank you…

Through the blur of tears, I find myself looking into a pair of ink-black eyes.

The sound of the wind brushes past my ears, but it grows distant and muffled.

I stare at the person in front of me in a daze, and my heart suddenly skips a beat.

His dark-colored coat is stained with dirt and dust smudges, yet his figure remains upright and composed.

His thin lips are slightly pursed, seemingly due to dryness, making them appear even paler in contrast.

Peering through his slightly disheveled bangs, he gazes at me with gentle and serene eyes. For some unknown reason, unfamiliar emotions of aching sorrow suddenly surge within me.

I tightly squeeze my palm in a somewhat wretched manner, fearing that if I wait for a second longer, tears will gush out of my eyes beyond my control.

Why does my heart suddenly feel as if it has lost a vital part, so empty that it makes me unable to breathe?

I have obviously never seen this man in front of me before, yet I feel as if I’ve sketched his features in my mind countless times over, and every subtle change in his expression tugs at my emotions.

MC: [sobbing] Why do I…

I restrain the urge that arises from an unknown source, attempting to calm my breathing. Yet, the man seems to sense my gaffe.

He furrows his brows slightly and takes half a step forward, speaking in a hushed tone.

Man (Victor): [THE TONE OF TRADEMARK “VICTOR-TENDERNESS”] Are you okay?

I open my lips, but the words “I’m fine” or “It’s okay” feel so heavy that they are choked up in my throat.

I gaze into those deep eyes, and the world before me slowly becomes blurry. The determination I’ve been obstinately holding on to seems to crumble bit by bit.

…the moment I heard him speak, I felt as if a soft voice in my mind was whispering to me, reassuring me that it was okay not to be so strong right now.

Finally, I can’t hold back anymore and grasp onto his lapel, allowing burning tears to stream down unbridled.

MC: [sobbing] …I’m sorry. I-I might have been too scared… just give me a moment to calm down…

I struggle to explain, my words coming out in fragments, and I can sense the man’s body stiffening for a moment.

However, he stands silently in his spot, not uttering a word, allowing me to tightly hold onto his clothes as I sob.

The surroundings are quiet, with only my sobbing echoing in the gentle breeze. In the distance, the faint image of tall buildings seems to appear, only to quickly vanish into the heat waves.

Once my emotions have settled to some extent, I awkwardly loosen my grip on his clothes and nod incoherently.

MC: Thank you. I… I’m sorry about earlier.

Perhaps because I myself don’t know how to explain, in the end, I don’t say anything at all.

The man doesn’t ask me any questions, but his gaze lingers briefly on my dusty face, and his brows seem to slightly furrow.

With a belated realization, I wipe away the tear stains on my face and voice the question in my mind.

MC: Were you also accidentally sucked into this disordered space?

The man averts his gaze and speaks with an indifferent expression.

Man (Victor): I don’t know what you’re talking about.

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【CH 46-9】

The unexpected response leaves me momentarily stunned.

For a moment, I’m unsure if the person doesn’t understand what I mean or if there is some other reason, so I tentatively try to ask once again.

MC: How did you end up here?

Man (Victor): I don’t know.

MC: …?

Hearing one perfunctory answer after another, I can’t help but feel a little frustrated. However, upon reflecting for a moment, I quickly find solace.

After all, considering that we are in a space filled with unknowns and mysteries, it’s only natural to be on guard.

Moreover... I don’t have much knowledge about this place either. Perhaps this mysterious man hasn’t entered here accidentally to begin with.

The immediate priority is to get out of here as soon as possible.

With that thought in mind, I discreetly clench my fist, trying to tap into the power of CORE. However, nothing happens.

MC: Why is this happening again… oh, right, the totem!

A sudden realization strikes me, and I promptly scan the surroundings, trying to find the stone totem I had encountered earlier. But then, I hear the deep voice of the man beside me.

Man (Victor): We should go.

MC: Go? Where are we going?

Man (Victor): …I don’t know.

His perplexing response continues to baffle me, but as I watch the man’s figure gradually fade into the distance, I hesitate for a moment before ultimately deciding to chase and catch up with him.

Since he was willing to risk his life to save me just now, it’s unlikely that he would have any ill intentions toward me.

Whether he is an ordinary solemn man who got trapped here like me or a mysterious being from another dimension, two people teaming up have a better chance of finding a way out of here.

Seemingly hearing my footsteps, the man glances at me calmly but doesn’t say anything.

I clear my throat and strike up a conversation with him, trying to sound natural while maintaining moderate proximity between us.

MC: Um... I’m not really familiar with this place. Would you mind showing me the way a little longer?

MC: But I don’t quite understand. If you don’t know where we are headed, what’s the point of moving forward now?

The man’s eyes flicker for a moment as he glances slightly behind me, lifting his chin.

Man (Victor): In order to not be caught up.

MC: ...Is there something behind us?

The specious words cause a cold sweat to creep up my back. I turn my gaze in the direction he gestures, only to be greeted with an endless expanse of white sand.

But there seems to be some kind of movement not far away.

My eyes widen as I finally see a gigantic vortex that has materialized in the desert at some point, slowly spinning and extending towards our direction.

MC: What is that?

Man (Victor): Time. If we stop, we will be swallowed up before long.

As if to validate his words, the vortex continues to expand without a moment’s pause. Subconsciously, these words escape my lips.

MC: Are we really going to keep racing against it indefinitely? Until when do we have to keep moving?

Man (Victor): I don’t know––

Seemingly catching a glimpse of my wordless expression from the corner of his eye, his tone falters.

Man (Victor): But time won’t stop. So we must keep moving forward.

His resolute tone sounds as if he is stating some kind of conclusion, which only adds to my bewilderment. But I instinctively follow in his footsteps.

Why does he know all this? Who is he exactly? And why does he keep answering my questions selectively?

I surreptitiously turn my head and gaze at his profile under the scorching sun. A peculiar premonition starts to emerge within me.

He might be the key to my escape from this place.

MC: Hey! Stop for a moment!

The man glances at me with a hint of confusion but still stops in his tracks.

MC: If we keep walking, we’ll exhaust our energy sooner or later. I know a potential solution that might help us find a way out of here.

MC: Let’s go find a stone totem together!

I squat down as I speak and begin to draw earnestly on the sandy surface.

—

[Tidbits]: it’s a nod to the orphanage escape incident of S2, where kid MC did the same thing, drawing the map on the ground to explain the route to kid Victor~ 🥺

—

MC: I’ve accidentally entered this space once before, and at that time, I happened to touch a stone totem. It transported me out of here.

MC: It probably looks like this, with snake or gear patterns on top, in a very quaint style...

I point to the diagram I’ve drawn, explaining the details. But as I lift my head to look at the man, my voice suddenly trails off.

A faint outline emerges on the distant horizon, causing my eyes to widen slightly. In a somewhat incoherent manner, I point towards the distance.

MC: The city I was transported to had buildings with a similar style… perhaps the totem is somewhere nearby!

I spring up impatiently. The man stares into the distance for a moment and then silently keeps pace with me.

However, despite scaling a sand dune, the distance between us and the city remains unchanged.

MC: Strange… why can’t we seem to get any closer?

Man (Victor): That’s a mirage.

Man (Victor): This desert projects one’s innermost longing. But the manifestation is transient, and it eventually fades away.

As if in response to his words, the distant outline begins to blur, reminiscent of a drop of water spreading across a picture scroll.

MC: …why didn’t you tell me earlier?

Man (Victor): There was no need for it.

Man (Victor): As time goes on and you keep on walking, moving forward also becomes an increasing consumption of willpower.

Man (Victor): Being able to see hallucinations at this moment is something that can be considered a blessing.

I instinctively want to refute it. But the moment our eyes interlock, the words get stuck in my throat.

He isn’t teasing me. He genuinely feels that I actually need such a fantasy right now.

MC: You sound like you don’t like seeing hallucinations…

Man (Victor): [voice trailing off] Whether I like it or not is irrelevant. If it can be a source of support for you in the desert, then it’s a good thing.

The man’s tone when he says this doesn’t sound as indifferent as before. Perhaps, within his emotions that have been weathered by the wind and sand, there still lurks a glimmer of hope?

The way I’m trying to get out of here now, has he tried the same methods too?

The moment I realize this, I feel that all my previous dissatisfaction with his attitude vanishes into thin air, and that it even surges a resonance from the depths of my heart that I’m unable to understand.

As if sensing my abrupt silence, the man’s tone softens a little.

Man (Victor): ...I haven’t seen the totem you mentioned, but I have come across some other fragments in the sand dunes.

Man (Victor): Nothing happened when I touched them, though. So I kept thinking that I couldn’t leave this place.

Man (Victor): But…

The man pauses.

Man (Victor): Now I feel like perhaps you will be able to do it.

I didn’t expect this person, who seemed to have an indifferent attitude so far, to say such words. I can’t help but be frozen in surprise.

As the man observes my bewildered expression, for reasons unknown, a subtle smile tugs at the corners of his otherwise stoic lips.

Man (Victor): [laughs softly] So, come on. Let’s continue looking for that thing you mentioned.

The sun relentlessly shines down, and every grain of sand beneath our feet reflects a blinding white light that makes one’s head spin.

I don’t know how long we’ve been walking, but suddenly my legs give in, and I hear the man speak just at that moment.

Man (Victor): Let’s take a break for a while.

MC: But the vortex behind us––

Man (Victor): It’s still some distance away from us. We can resume our journey before it catches up.

Heaving a sigh of relief, I follow him to a massive sand dune and flop down beside him. I feel an aching sensation radiating through every bone in my body.

The surroundings are eerily quiet. In the vast sea of sand, we are but two insignificant grains of sand that can be scattered with a single breath.

MC: By the way, I don’t know what to call you. I’m MC. What’s your name?

MC: You’re not going to tell me again that you don’t know, are you?

The man remains silent for a while, his eyelashes casting a faint shadow.

Man (Victor): [sighs helplessly] …I really don’t know.

Man (Victor): I have no idea about my own identity or why I ended up here.

Man (Victor): I don’t remember anything from the past.

I’m slightly startled, recalling the cold and indifferent “I don’t know” that I got from him before... So, it turns out that it wasn’t just a perfunctory response?

MC: …so, you don’t know how long you’ve been here either?

He nods and casually picks up a stone lying next to his feet.

Man (Victor): I was already in the desert when I regained consciousness. I don’t remember my past, and have no clarity about the future.

Man (Victor): But I remember that I need to go somewhere… because someone is waiting for me there.

MC: Where is that?

He shakes his head and calmly lowers his gaze, as if what he just said isn’t worth caring about. I, however, can’t help feeling a little distressed.

Even without knowing that so-called destination, he persists in carrying this one and only thought in his heart, continuously traversing through the desert without ever stopping–– for who knows how long.

I don’t know whether to call this person persistent or a dummy.

MC: What did you mean earlier when you said being caught up by time would swallow us?

MC: Also, what you said about the desert reflecting innermost longing… have you seen something in the mirage?

His hand stroking the stone ceases its motion, and he turns his head to look at me.

Man (Victor): Hm? Have you always had so many questions?

MC: I’m just curious... And who knows, maybe as we chat, you might also remember something.

Not sure if he’s been persuaded by my words, but he locks eyes with me for a moment before speaking.

Man (Victor): I don’t remember what will happen if we get caught up… but my subconscious tells me that we mustn’t stop.

Man (Victor): As for the images I saw, I can only remember a blurry figure.

His eyes rest on me as he says this, as if he is gazing upon a hazy memory.

Man (Victor): I can’t recall the details clearly. And even if I could, I don’t think I would remember who the other person was.

Man (Victor): All I know is that I really want to see her.

The surroundings lapse into silence, and for a moment, neither of us speaks. After a while, the man gently tosses the stone from his hand.

Man (Victor): Tell me about yourself.

MC: I… the place where I live is called Loveland City. It’s a place where miracles can happen at any moment.

MC: If you drive along the mountain road to the seaside, you will be treated to beautiful sunsets. The streets and alleys are filled with small hidden stores, and you can find delightful surprises more often than not…

I keep babbling on and on, sharing a range of topics from the smallest and trivial matters of everyday life to various incidents with some details left out.

I’m unsure whether it’s to break the monotony or to persevere with the hope of returning home just a little longer, and a little bit longer.

The man remains completely silent, leaning against the sand dune, his gaze lowered as he looks into the distance. It feels as if he is regarding my outpouring as mere background sound.

Amid the boundless tranquility, weariness begins to creep in, little by little.

My eyelids gradually grow heavy. In a half-asleep and half-awake state, I seem to hear a very soft sigh.

The sound of breathing beside his ears slowly becomes even. The man withdraws his gaze from the distance and lowers his eyes to the person beside him.

She has her eyes closed, her body curled up slightly, appearing somewhat restless. A faint sense of trance flickers in his eyes.

He doesn’t know why, but his emotions are stirred by the presence of this girl, causing ripples within him. And this slight throbbing, it seems like, isn’t the first time.

He presses one hand against his forehead, trying hard to recollect. Some scattered and broken images flash intermittently in the depths of his memory.

Amidst the sandstorm, there appeared to be a blurry figure. He is unable to make out the person’s face clearly, but he remembers that when she disappeared, she desperately yelled out a name to him––

The memories in his mind suddenly become blank, and the man opens his eyes, exhaling slowly.

Reminiscent of water droplets seeping into gravel, traces of those images fade away in an instant. His recollection of these fragments is becoming increasingly challenging to grasp.

A familiar rustling sound transmits to his ears, and he lifts his head toward the source.

The gigantic vortex reveals a glimpse of its presence within the shadows.

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【CH 46-11】

A muffled sound comes from beside my ears, as if something has collapsed with a loud thud. Startled, I’m jolted awake and find myself lying face down on the man’s back.

From behind, deep footprints meander their way, while the sand dune where we were resting earlier is now falling apart in pieces within the vortex.

Despite this, the vortex shows no signs of slowing down, continuing to expand relentlessly without satisfaction.

I draw a soft breath in lingering fear and hear a deep voice coming from beside my ear.

Man (Victor): [the trademark Victor-tenderness] Awake?

I promptly leap off him and thank him, feeling a little embarrassed.

MC: [blushing] Thank you. You saved me once again.

The man doesn’t say anything, but I can discern the traces of weariness in his bloodshot eyes.

We got to relax for only a moment as we are just a hair’s breadth away from being engulfed... and how much longer will we have to endure these sleepless and tireless days?

Man (Victor): What are you staring at?

I hurriedly avert my gaze and respond in a low voice.

MC: Nothing. I’m just thinking about how grateful I’m to you for earlier… I’m fully rested now!

MC: Next time, you take a break, and I’ll keep watch. I promise I won’t cause us any delays again!

As I speak with an expression of making a solemn vow, it seems like a faint smile briefly curves at the corners of the man’s lips.

Man (Victor): [chuckles indulgently] You just focus on taking care of yourself first.

Memories stir up like fleeting ripples, reminiscent of a dragonfly lightly touching the water’s surface. But before I can say anything, the person beside me takes the lead in stepping forward.

After trekking through the blistering waves of heat for a long time, something suddenly catches my eye in the distance. As I approach closer, I can vaguely make out the outline of an arrow.

I blink and cautiously turn my gaze to him.

MC: Is it the same kind of fragment you’ve seen before? Or is it also a mirage?

Man (Victor): Not sure. Let’s get closer and take a look.

Ten steps, three steps, one step… the arrow still hasn’t vanished. I quickly walk closer, closely examining it.

MC: Although it’s not the totem I’m looking for, it might still be able to take us away from here… want to take a gamble?

The man casts a quick glance at the encroaching vortex.

Man (Victor): Let’s go.

Man (Victor): As long as we’re not staying in this same place, anywhere else is fine.

As the man speaks, he lifts his hand in unison with me, as if by some unspoken agreement.

A familiar power suddenly surges within my body, causing the worn-out arrow feathers to glimmer faintly. In the next moment, a powerful repulsive force swiftly sweeps us up.

—

A faint smell of blood rushes to my nostrils. I open my eyes to a desolate twilight scene, with an immense heap of armor strewn across the barren plain, reflecting in my gaze.

MC: Is this a filming set?

I look around with some surprise and hear the man speak in a contemplative tone.

Man (Victor): It doesn’t seem like an artificial arrangement. Let’s look around first.

I nod and carefully avoid the scattered feathers and arrows as we walk towards the edge together. However, as we continue forward, my puzzlement intensifies more and more, and I can’t help but mutter to myself.

MC: This battlefield feels too real… there isn’t anything like this in Loveland City. It doesn’t even seem like we are in the same era.

Man (Victor): Then perhaps it is real.

Seemingly hearing my fragmented mumblings, the man naturally picks up the conversation. However, a realization suddenly strikes me.

MC: Could it be that the disordered space is connected to other worlds…?

??: Messenger! Why did you leave the military camp and come here?

Before I can finish my sentence, a shout reaches my ears from a distance. I raise my head somewhat and see a troop of soldiers clad in armor waving at me from afar.

An inexpressible sense of familiarity suddenly wells up in my heart. I stop in my tracks and whisper inquisitively to the man next to me, my mind filled with bewilderment.

MC: It’s so weird… why do I feel like I’m really the messenger they’re calling out to? Do you have a similar feeling?

Man (Victor): No. Are you sure it’s not just your imagination?

MC: …but I have a strong sense about it. How about when they get closer, I try talking to them and see what happens?

As we are speaking, the soldiers gradually draw close to us. But before I can even probe, their eyes fall in unison to my side, and they jerk to a halt.

The originally joyful expression on the soldiers’ faces disappears entirely. And in the next second, they swiftly raise their bows and arrows with a numb demeanor.

MC: …!

With no time to react, the man takes my hand and briskly turns, leading me to escape into a deeper part of the jungle.

The sound of arrows whizzing through the air chases closely behind us, reminiscent of intangible shackles. I push aside the branches and leaves obstructing our path and speak as I gasp for breath.

MC: Why would they suddenly turn violent…?

Man (Victor): [in pain and breathless] Not sure.

The tail notes of his voice seem to be muffled. I turn around and see that the man’s suit has been slashed in several long cuts, with even dark marks seeping into the fabric.

…but how could the branches cause such deep wounds?

I anxiously pull him closer to me, wanting to get a better look at his injuries. But without any warning, a nearby boulder suddenly shakes and tumbles down, catching us off guard.

A cloud of dust and fog billows up as a deep crater is formed where the man has been standing just now. I open my eyes wide and look in the direction from which the boulder has rolled.

MC: Why… did it suddenly come rolling down like that?

The series of coincidences seem more like some kind of “manipulation.”

The man furrows his brows. It appears that he, too, has sensed something amiss. Without uttering a word, he swiftly pulls me behind a tree, seeking shelter.

The distance between us is suddenly closed, and I can almost smell the scent of blood emanating from his body. I try to suppress my racing heartbeat, listening to the chaotic footsteps echoing through the jungle.

I cautiously peer through the gaps in the branches, and an unexpected figure abruptly enters my line of sight––

That mysterious little boy, attired in an outmoded sweatshirt and oversized beach shorts, blends in among the soldiers chasing us, creating a stark contrast.

Oddly enough, it seems as though the others are completely oblivious to his presence.

Seemingly aware of our gaze, he smiles and lifts his hat in our direction.

Little Boy: How interesting! So, it turns out those exiled by the world would end up in such a wretched state.

What does he mean by that? And why did he appear here?

My heart shudders as I notice that the little boy’s eyes are not directed at me, but rather at the man next to me.

The sudden change in the soldiers’ attitude, the inexplicable assault on him from the surrounding trees… akin to igniting a flint, an unimaginable thought suddenly springs to my mind.

Could the boy be referring to him as the person “exiled by the world”?

Just as I’m about to speak, I hear the deep voice of the person next to me resounding.

Man (Victor): Do you know me?

The little boy just grins, neither confirming nor denying it.

Little Boy: Maybe? If you want to find out, it will depend on how much patience you guys have.

As the little boy speaks, his figure disappears in an instant among the troop. The next second, we hear the shout of a soldier coming from a distance.

Soldier: Over here! Ready your arrows!

The man shifts his gaze away from the spot where the little boy has disappeared, furrowing his brows as he looks down at his feet.

I follow his line of sight, only to find the previously solid and arid ground tremble, suddenly sinking like a swamp, drowning the man’s ankles in a flash.

MC: …what is going on!

Unfathomable events unfold one after another right before our eyes, but before we can even begin to process them, countless arrows are aimed in the man’s direction.

Panicking, I hurriedly rush forward. But the man’s voice stops me in my tracks.

Man (Victor): [THAT PAINED TONE—] Let’s part ways here.

MC: What?

The man’s voice is very soft but carries an indisputable tone.

Man (Victor): One thing I can be sure of now is that I can’t stay here for long.

Man (Victor): Leave me. It will reduce the dangers for you significantly.

As he speaks with a little more urgency in his tone, an invisible wave of energy ripples through the air, as if trying to forcefully expel him from this world.

As the surging air wave grows increasingly violent, the boulders in the surrounding seem to quake. Realizing that there is no more time for argument, I grit my teeth and lunge myself towards the man.

Before he can react, I instinctively grab his wrist without hesitation.

—

A familiar wave of heat rushes over us, and in the scorching air, there is a hint of dryness, carrying the scent of sand and dust.

Just as expected. We are greeted with the sight of that vast white desert once again. The swirling vortex remains at a distance, separated from us by a sand dune.

MC: Why does it feel like the vortex hasn’t moved?

Man (Victor): It’s time that hasn’t moved.

Seeing my bafflement, the man points towards the direction of the vortex with his finger.

Man (Victor): I have a sense that the time spent in that world won’t impact the time in this desert.

MC: You mean that the time in each world operates independently?

Man (Victor): It’s likely. But the evidence from one world is not enough; we need more…

The man suddenly pauses as if having a lump in his throat, and his brows knit into a frown.

MC: Why did you stop talking?

Man (Victor): …why did you follow me back?

It seems like the man has suddenly realized that his analysis conflicts with his earlier unyielding insistence for us to part ways. He averts his gaze and abruptly changes the subject.

A small chuckle escapes me, feeling a mixture of amusement and dissatisfaction. I pout my lips.

MC: Why do you think? You’re really a dummy.

Man (Victor): …

The man arches the corners of his eyebrows slightly, his expression becoming subtly nuanced. Realizing that my teasing has crossed a boundary, I quickly explain with a serious face.

MC: You yourself mentioned before that when you touched something in the desert, you didn’t receive any response.

MC: So, it’s highly probable that I was the one who brought you into that space just now.

MC: Can we interpret it this way, then? It’s safe to say that without me, you wouldn’t be able to travel to other worlds and would be relentlessly chased by the vortex, so...

Man (Victor): But my predicament has nothing to do with you.

Man (Victor): For you, the world we were in just now was much safer than this desert. It’s not a wise choice to turn back for a stranger.

The man’s words are indeed rational, but why is it making me so infuriated! I pout my lips indignantly.

MC: …I did not turn back for a stranger.

MC: You saved my life twice and took me on walking through this desert for so long. I’m way more familiar with you than I was with that world.

MC: And, by the way, that little boy who was talking to you earlier, I’ve seen him before too.

MC: If we can catch up with him, maybe we’ll be able to find a way to return to our own world!

I continue talking non-stop about all sorts of reasons, but I keep one thing from him––

I don’t know why, but there is a voice in my heart that keeps telling me––

I absolutely cannot leave you behind like this.

As the man listens to my systematic explanation, his expression relaxes slightly.

Man (Victor): [laughs extremely softly] …indeed. The reasons are quite compelling.

Man (Victor): Let’s go then. Let’s search for the other fragments.

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【CH 46-12】

With our previous experience, this round of search seems to have gone much smoother. After crossing over a dozen sand dunes, a worn-out crown appears before us.

As if by a wordless tacit understanding, the man and I simultaneously put our hands on it again. As the familiar sensation of whirlwind strikes again, we find ourselves in a courtyard.

On the other side of the gauzy curtains, people dressed in gorgeous attires are laughing and frolicking near the fountain. A woman resembling a maid, carrying a wine jug above her head, gracefully approaches us.

The familiarity of the surroundings surges in my heart once more, inexplicably dispelling my nervousness. Just as I’m about to approach and intercept her to ask, my footsteps halt, and I turn around to tear off a corner of the gauzy curtain.

MC: Though we can’t fully trust what the little boy said, it’d be wise to keep an eye out.

MC: Just in case, let’s cover your face first.

Apparently not expecting my sudden move, the man doesn’t dodge me. He allows me to swiftly cover his face, leaving only a pair of deep eyes that locks gazes with mine through the gauzy veil.

His warm breath brushes against the palm of my hand through the soft fabric, bringing me a slight tickling sensation. Only now do I realize how closely pressed we are, and I belatedly find myself speaking up.

MC: …tie it yourself.

I hand him the sheer fabric, our fingertips parting as soon as they touch.

Man (Victor): [extremely softly] …alright.

As the man speaks, his fingertips wrap the white fabric around his ear.

I avert my gaze and carefully approach the serving maid from behind the pillars before finally opening my mouth.

MC: Hello, I––

Court Lady: Your Highness?

A brief moment of surprise crosses the other person’s eyes, and she puts down the wine jug to bow to me.

The familiar sense of recognition is reaffirmed once more, and I make a conscious effort to adapt to this implanted sense of identity, tentatively asking my questions.

MC: No need to bow. Have you happened to see a little boy around?

I describe the little boy’s appearance to her, and she seems momentarily taken aback before pointing towards a far-off location.

Court Lady: Yes, I have indeed seen a child like that. He is currently swinging on the swing over there!

Court Lady: It’s strange. I didn’t even feel like he was an unfamiliar face until you mentioned…

The man and I follow the direction pointed out by the serving maid and, sure enough, spot a small figure on the swing. Without any hesitation, we approach him at a brisk pace.

Just as we’re about a step away, the little boy turns his head and shows us a wide grin.

Little Boy: I can’t believe you actually managed to pull him out of that other space again… that’s really amusing.

MC: Hold on! We have something to ask you!

Paying no mind to my words, the little boy leaps off the swing, and his figure disappears in an instant. Suddenly, a subtle air movement stirs up in the previously tranquil courtyard, heading towards us.

The man tries to dodge the airflow by moving to the side, but it eerily follows closely beside him, forcefully lifting the veil that covers his face.

MC: …

Man (Victor): …

Court Lady: There’s an intruder! Guards!!

Several cries of alarm sound near the fountain. In response to the words, an invisible fluctuation ripples out once again.

The man and I lock eyes with each other, tugging helplessly at the corners of our lips. Before the surge of energy sweeps us up, we swiftly clasp each other’s hands.

In the subsequent time, we traverse back and forth between different worlds, relentlessly following the trails of the little boy’s figure.

Driving a severely run-down off-road vehicle, we make a desperate escape through a charging herd of wild animals…

Through an unfortunate turn of events, we find ourselves inside a spaceship, and out of nowhere, the alarm of the malfunctioning AI machinery blares…

Meanwhile, the peculiarly attired little figure remains at a distance that’s neither too far nor too close, observing us mockingly as we struggle.

Following another burst of white light, we find ourselves facing an expansive and deep space, akin to a starry sea, adorned with numerous translucent golden gears floating in the air.

The little boy lifts his head and looks up in quiet contemplation. As we draw closer, he looks at us with a mirthful smile.

Little Boy: Well, really impressive! You two actually managed to chase me this far~

Little Boy: It’s a pity, though. It’s just useless persistence, after all.

Ignoring the ridicule in his tone, I take two steps forward.

MC: Given that you never show up without a reason, I don’t believe this time is an exception.

MC: I’m sure you know how to leave the white desert, do you not?

Little Boy: You’re being so straightforward. But you’re the special one, are you not? Only you know the answer to that question.

Deep in thought, I furrow my brows, while the little boy has already shifted his attention towards the man, speaking with keen interest.

Little Boy: I know what you’re about to ask, but I’m not going to tell you.

Little Boy: Because–– it’s also a punishment.

Little Boy: Oh, right, I almost forgot. You mustn’t take him with you when you leave.

Little Boy: Those who assist in cheating will also face the punishment.

The little boy giggles. His figure gradually fades into transparency, and the familiar ripples of energy emanate once again in the surroundings.

–

After a dizzying spin, the immense desert comes into view again. Under the nearly white daylight, every grain of sand around us radiates a blinding brilliance.

I stagger a few steps and am steadied by a strong arm. Just as I regain my balance, I suddenly notice a plane ticket lying quietly at my feet.

Passenger Name: MC, Destination: Loveland City, Departure Time: 10:45 AM.

Isn’t this my return ticket?

I hesitantly reach out my hand, and a familiar power surges within my body once again. As if sensing something, the plane ticket emits a silver-white glow, even more radiant than before.

MC: …look! This seems to be a fragment for returning to Loveland City! Let’s go together!

A rare expression of hesitation briefly crosses across the man’s face.

Man (Victor): …there’s no need. You heard what he said just now. If you were to be punished…

I swiftly close the distance between us in three steps, clutching onto his sleeve.

MC: I don’t believe we are cheating at all.

MC: The real punishment for me would be if I, despite having the ability to take you with me, leave you behind out of fear of the “so-called” punishment.

MC: So, come with me!

The man’s lips twitch slightly, and he doesn’t pull back his sleeve. A white light envelopes us instantly.

–

“...This flight is now halfway through its journey, and we will soon be serving meals. Please remain seated and patiently wait…”

The sweet-sounding voice over the announcement accompanies the loud humming of the aircraft’s operations as it reaches my ears. Feeling apprehensive, I open my eyes and see the flight attendant approaching our direction with the food cart.

The man sits in the seat next to me, quietly observing the surroundings. The dim light of the cabin is reflected in his deep, dark eyes.

Without giving him a chance to speak, I reflexively grab the magazine on the seat and open it, placing it as a barrier in front of him.

MC: Shh––

I glance in the direction of the flight attendant and quietly caution him. Inadvertently, I catch a glimpse of my phone out of the corner of my eye, and the screen displays the current time.

13:28.

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【CH 46-13】

…when I was swept away by that force, it was exactly this time.

Just as expected, all those immensely long experiences in the disordered spaces seem to condense into a single fleeting moment upon returning to reality.

Before I have a chance to process my thoughts, an amiable voice inquires in my ear.

Flight Attendant: Hello, miss. Today’s set menu offers two options: beef and fish. May I ask which one you would like to choose?

My body tenses up, and I hastily scan my gaze across the man’s figure.

Oh dear, now there’s suddenly someone in the previously empty seat. Even if I cover his face, there’s no way she wouldn’t notice him…

After not receiving a response for a while, a hint of confusion appears on the flight attendant’s face. She lowers her body slightly and speaks in a gentler tone.

Flight Attendant: Miss? Have you made a decision?

MC: …beef, please. Thank you.

Trying to conceal my nervousness, I watch as the flight attendant smiles and hands me a meal tray. Then, she pushes the food cart and heads straight towards the back row.

The man and I share glances with each other before I tentatively call out to her.

MC: Excuse me, could I please have another serving?

The flight attendant looks at me with some bafflement for a moment, but professionally hands me another meal tray before moving away with the food cart. Once she is a bit further, I speak in a low voice.

MC: What just happened? It seems like she can’t see you?

MC: Come to think of it, I haven’t actually confirmed this before, but... are you human?

The man sets aside the magazine from his face and glances at me with a puzzled expression.

Man (Victor): What do you think?

MC: It’s hard to say from my perspective… do you mind if I poke you to find out?

Man (Victor): [sighs LONG AND HARD] …

The man lets out a sigh, seemingly declining to comment. His expression, however, suggests tacit approval.

I reach out and poke his arm. Hmm, it’s firm;

I then prod his chest. Hmm, I can feel his heartbeat;

I gently touch his cheek again. Hmm, it feels warm as well;

Just as I’m about to feel his hair, the man grabs hold of my fingertips.

Man (Victor): Have you confirmed it now?

—

[Anika’s Reactions]: LMFAAOOO MC!! sorry I had to stop haha. what an innovative way to say you wanna touch his 104 LOL; we see you girl 😆 when you have a life-size full course meal with midnight snacks sitting right next to you, despite the predicament, it is indeed “hard” to control yourself.~ 😂 but also, the fact that she can ask him that so naturally and he just lets her have her way with him like he always has– it simply further seals their “sense of belonging” and that line that no matter what world, they’ll always meet and are destined to be 吸引 (drawn/ attracted) to each other with or without the memories. After all, attraction to another means both emotional and physical, does it not~ ❣️

—

MC: Yes, yes, I have. How do you feel now? Is there anything that feels off to you?

Man (Victor): [GODS THAT PAINED TONE] Everything seems normal.

Man (Victor): The seat hasn’t collapsed, and the seatbelt hasn’t suddenly tangled around my hands or feet.

MC: You’re right. It’s definitely more welcoming than that spaceship world… now that I think about it, it seems like every world reacts differently to your presence.

MC: On that battlefield, the soldiers were directly on guard to fight you with swords and spears; whereas in the ruins, the dwarves simply kept their distance from you, pointing and whispering among themselves;

MC: Perhaps the inability to see your existence is a manifestation of this world?

The man’s eyebrows furrow slightly, and a hint of contemplation flashes in his eyes. After a moment, he speaks.

Man (Victor): Indeed. Other than that, there doesn’t seem to be a more plausible explanation.

MC: Compared to other worlds, this level of rejection seems relatively mild… it could be a sign that you have a special connection with Loveland City!

Man (Victor): …

MC: Why the speechless face! I’m being serious!

MC: If it’s only to this extent, I think you could totally live here. Who knows, if you stay long enough, this world will eventually embrace you?

Exhilarated, I pick up the spread-open travel magazine and gesture for him to take a look.

MC: Look, this is the seaside sunset I mentioned to you earlier… and here, during the flowering season, it’s also a sight worth visiting!

I describe the charm of Loveland City to him, but suddenly, something crosses my mind.

MC: Since you’re going to live here, you should have a name. Otherwise, it would be inconvenient to address you.

Man (Victor): …? If you’re the only person who can see me, it doesn’t seem to matter much whether I have a name or not.

MC: But selecting a name would also serve as a declaration of the beginning of your new life!

The man and I lock eyes for a moment, but then he shakes his head.

Man (Victor): I don’t have any particular ideas about a name at the moment.

MC: How about I help you in choosing one?

MC: Since we met in the desert… how about the name “Dune”? (*)

Man (Victor): …

MC: Or how about Mr. Handsome? Mr. Benevolent Enigma? (*)

Man (Victor): [much more dots than usual] …….

Seeing the man’s expression becoming increasingly nuanced, I quickly seal my lips.

In the corner of my eye, I coincidentally happen to glance at a photo of a panda in the magazine. I seem to feel a sudden surge of emotions stirring in my heart, causing me to blurt out without thinking.

MC: How do you feel about the name Vic-Vic? (*)

MC: Just the one to be a good reminder for you to talk more, instead of being like a closed-off person.

The man’s gaze lingers on the photo for a moment, and his expression seems to soften with a touch of tenderness.

Man (Victor): [laughs elatedly, unbeknownst to him] …childish.

─────

[Notes]: It’s gonna be a big note, and yes, it’s on the names:

– the 1st one MC chose was 沙沙 (shā shā), taking the first character from 沙漠 (shāmò; means desert) and using iterations to make it cutesy. 沙 independently means “sand.” so I’m pretty sure Elex will go for something like Sandy LMAO

– the 2nd one (Mr. Handsome) is the literal translation of 小帅; the 3rd one’s tricky. It’s 沈密仁 (Shen Mi Ren). Here, 沈 (Shen) is a surname; whereas 密 (Mi) means “enigma/ mystery”; and 仁 (Ren) means “benevolence/ kindness.”

– and lastly, it was, as you might’ve already guessed, 言言 (Yan Yan), derived from his original name 李泽言 (Li Zeyan); the same name his mom used to call him, the name of his panda friend, and one of the names the whole fandom calls him affectionately~ 😭 and as for why MC says it’s a good reminder for him to talk more, the term 言 (Yan) independently has the meaning of “word/ to speak/ to talk/ speech”~ ❣️

──────────

CH 46 Part 2: Here!

────────────────────

#... // ... // ... // ... // i definitely have lots to say haha but let’s keep that for my docs file with the 2nd part 💀🌊#since we are keeping the angsty parts for later discussion – the comical parts are so freakin' epic HAHAHA #also can i just?? this whole chapter is basically the re-sealing of his S1 CH 24 line—#that no matter what world he’s destined to be drawn to her and vice-versa. i’ll also take the leap now and say that this whole experience—#just re-states how Victor x MC is indeed the best choice for “love etched into the bones” theme. the way he handles himself and MC -#and MC handles him and them together - had there been someone else instead of them-- they wouldn’t handle it the way Victor x MC does :>#mlqc victor #mlqc li zeyan #mlqc #mr love victor #mr love queen's choice #恋与制作人 #李泽言 #love and producer #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc translations

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main-clown · 11 months

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SPIDERVERSE SPOILERS BELOW. IF YOU DON’T WANT SPOILERS SKIP THIS POST.

Interacting with this post let’s me assume you’ve seen the film or are okay with any and all spoilers involved.

Its partially disorganized but i need thoughts on paper right now.

So, theory time.

As Miguel says in the film, Miles is the first anomaly. I highly doubt that. All the anomalies we see are people from different dimensions. Their animation styles are completely different (with exceptions to Gwen and Peter B, although Gwen tends to have more pastel-ish colors involved with her. These two seem to be part of ‘closely aligned’ universes to Miles). Miles was bitten by an anomaly spider, which both Spot and Miguel mention. That spider wasn’t meant for this Miles but instead Miles-42. So if that was it, the spider was the first anomaly and made Miles an anomaly by association, seen in his spider DNA bringing him back to the wrong dimension. Yet him having Spider-42 DNA doesn’t stop him from glitching in e-42.

Miguel shares his tragic backstory, how he replaced a version of himself who died in order to have a happy family. Parts of his story don’t make sense to me. He replaced another Miguel, but this was mentioned regarding Canon Events. All the spiders we see are entering other worlds with little/no visual consequence (partly from the wristbands, but maybe also from their short time in this world). This world, and his perfect family, vanishes. In the film, this flashback is shown by his daughter vanishing in his arms but Miguel is unfazed. From the sounds of it, and the end scene of the flashback directed to Peter B. Parker, it feels like Miguel was ripped from that world and brought to Peter’s. That’s my assumption, but it feels incorrect. (I also don’t see a wristband, the clunky orange ones, but I do see the orange webbing motif across his body. Is that his dimensional motif?? His body tends to have those extra lines added).

Mumbattan tearing itself apart is, in the narrative, said to be from Miles disrupting a canon event. Yet this Canon event is starting from Spot, a villain from another world. If all Canon events connect every Spiderman together, why is it that an outsider triggered one? If Canon events can be influenced by other worlds, then how closely aligned are they? I mean, the spiderverse is literally depicted with webs.

Kingpin and Doc Oct opening the collider and getting Spider-42 targeted a Canon event (Miles-42 becoming Spiderman). No mention of e-42 falling apart is said, seen, or heard. Only Miles glitching. Maybe its not glitching because the first Canon event aka Spider bite was avoided, although I think other Canon events still happened (Miles-42′s dad dying. I think Uncle Aaron still lives because he acts as a mentor figure, giving a pass to the Uncle Ben treatment? But that’s still another Canon event missed, Uncle/Best Friend equivalent dying). World collapse in the first movie was stopped by shutting down the collider, though apparently they messed it up somehow so its leaking everywhere?

I think it’s Spot causing the leaking. He first thought his portals were just normal portals, not portals to different dimensions. Its been about a year?? since Kingpin, and Spot is around the same age on how-long-he’s-been-Spot. Every time he used his portals, that could’ve caused leakage to another world. His body is MADE of dimensional portals, it could be him accidentally yanking someone from one place to another and could maybe explain why Miles isn’t seeing this stuff?? So if you shut down Spot (moider or remove his powers), you shut down the leakage, just like the first movie.

Ramble Conclusion: I don’t think Miles was the first anomaly, unsure on who would be though (someone I know said maybe Miguel is). Possibly dimensional leakage is from Spot, so they need to ‘shut him down’ like the collider. Canon events seem like bullshit, minus the Spider-bite, and I think Mumbattan tearing apart isn’t from disrupting Canon events.

Also Miguel cheeked up lol

#long post #ramble #across the spiderverse #i just need this on paper and i can look back for more theories #theories?#spiderverse spoilers #this isn't organized and i'm sorry #spiderverse miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara #miles morales #e-42 #spiderverse spot #brain rot time

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tokiro07 · 2 months

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Speculation for the contents of the remaining Undead Unluck episodes under the cut, spoilers for anime-onlys

Episode 21 got through chapter 42

If we were getting 26 episodes, we'd be on track to finishing Autumn at a pace of 2 chapters an episode, ending at chapter 52 in episode 26

However, all sources I can find are saying we're getting 24 episodes

To keep pace now, it should look something like this:

Ep.22 - Ch.43-45 (the entirety of the Victor fight)

Ep.23 - Ch.46 (closing the book), Ch.47&48 (Anno Un's backstory)

Ep.24 - Ch.49 (spat with Under), Ch.50&51 (Autumn Phase 1), Ch.52 (Autumn Phase 2)

Whether ch.46 is in 22 or 23 is debatable, but I think that the Victor fight needs to have as much time to itself as possible

Ep.23 will probably end with Andy killing Sean, cus that's a great episode ender, and having three relatively action-light chapters in one episode should be perfectly doable

Ep.24 cramming four chapters into itself has a lot of potential to feel rushed, BUT if there's A) no recaps, and B) no opening/ending theme aside from being played over the battle/the farewell to Anno Un, I think it should be doable

We're really coming down to the wire, so I hope that all of the senseless padding we've seen up to this point turns out to be in service of these final episodes rather than just poor planning

#undead unluck #fouryearsandananime #uu anime

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airiat · 11 months

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northern sky, five. ✧˚ · .

{masterlist | beginning}

pairing: joel miller x you / f!reader (wc: 35.3k, 10 chapters)

rating: explicit, 18+

work tags: no outbreak, age difference (27/42), hurt/comfort, ptsd, fate, ldr, explicit sexual content (rough/romantic sex, light d/s & sadomasochism, dirty talk, choking/biting, oral (f & m receiving), unprotected piv, aftercare)

work warnings: themes of death (more details here, contains spoilers), depictions of mental illness/alcoholism, light discussion of theoretical relationship with minor (not condoned by either party), light blood kink

ch. summary: a date. this is like that.

{ao3}

five. {1.8k}

Your favorite client is sitting in your chair. You’re painting thin stripes of bleach in her hair, tucking them into neat foil packets. She’s been talking your ear off for the past half hour about her son, her husband, her nagging in-laws. But you find it a comfort. You like thinking about other people’s lives. It’s something to imagine that isn’t your own storm.

“They tried staying with us for three weeks this time,” she’s saying. “Can you believe it? Acting like they don’t have their own house.”

“Hm. No, that’s not right,” you commiserate.

“At this point, maybe they should just let us take it since they never seem to wanna live there. It’s so much bigger than ours.”

“Yeah, yeah, they definitely should.”

“Maybe one of these days, we’ll just show up there with our suitcases. See how much they like it.”

You laugh, dip your brush into the bowl of bleach, find it almost empty. “I’ve gotta go mix more of this. Just a moment.”

You leave with the bowl, head to the room next door with all your product. You set the bowl on the counter when you arrive and pull out your phone. You and Joel actually did exchange numbers this time, mostly under the pretense of you letting him know when to pick you up. He doesn’t seem like that much of a texter but has this BlackBerry that he seems to be constantly irritated with, muttering about needing it for work. Still, when you find the screen of your iPhone empty, a little pang of disappointment hits your chest. You shake your head and shove the phone back into your jeans.

Upon your return, you find her barking angrily into her phone, but she snaps a farewell when you begin working on her hair again.

“That was my mother-in-law,” she says but doesn’t elaborate. “Hey, not to be nosy, but I saw you get dropped off by a man in a truck. What’s the story?”

In fact, she is nosy. But you’ve always appreciated that there is someone who would care enough to know anything about you. And she has gotten to know you over the years, all five of them. Probably one of the only people in this little town who knows anything about you. Probably one of the closest resemblances of a mother you have these days.

“Just this guy I started seeing,” you answer. There’s a flood of words in your mouth, but you hold back.

“Oh, look at you, now!” she exclaims. “Well, tell me more. What’s his name? How did you meet him?”

You never lie to her. She could tell if you were, anyway; she’s known you too long. But you never feel any reason to. She never passes unfair judgment. “We met at Lucky’s,” you say. “He’s from out of town, actually. From Texas. His name is Joel.”

“How interesting. What does he do down there?”

“He has a construction company. I think. I…actually don’t know a lot about him.”

“But he’s dropping you off at work?

“Well, he’s staying with me, but we’ve actually only really spent maybe two days total together.”

“Sounds a little fishy to me, honey,” she says honestly.

You scowl, tap the brush against a new foil maybe a little too hard. “I swear it’s not. His last name is Miller. He has a brother, a sister-in-law, and a nephew in Wyoming. A daughter going to college in Boston.”

“A college-aged daughter? How old is this man? He’s not secretly married, is he?”

“No, of course not. He just has a daughter. And he probably had her young, too; he’s gotta only be early forties.”

“I think these are things you should be asking him.”

“I don’t know if I have any right to. Maybe it’s not like that.”

She meets your eyes in the mirror, gives a sly smile. “If that mark on your lip is from what I think it is, I’d say you have every right.”

You flush, foolishly didn’t wear lipstick today, but also didn’t think anyone would put the pieces together. You hurry to change the subject.

“He said he drove here from Austin. Just for me. Said he could barely make it two weeks before he needed to see me again. Is that–?”

She shrugs. “Maybe. Can’t make a man do anything he doesn’t want to. And they’ll pound mountains down for what they want.”

“Maybe he just likes me in bed.”

“Sure, maybe. And that’s fine as long as you’re also getting something out of it.”

A wistful reminiscence of this morning: his brown eyes searching your soul, the way he’ll cradle you against him, his gentle way of talking to you. “He treats me well.”

“If you have that, then you can have anything.”

“As long as that’s what he wants.”

“And you, too,” she says. “But also know this: sometimes things end. But that doesn’t mean it was for nothing.”

You nod as though you agree, but the very thought makes your body run cold. You don’t know what you’d do without how Joel makes you feel. Maybe it would be like having no air to breathe. Maybe it would be something that you’d have to drown in bottles. But all you say is: “I’ll remember that.”

~*~

When you finally climb back into Joel’s truck at the end of the day, it feels as though you have been away from him for a year. Actually, it was a short day, only six hours. You still missed him. You did. But now that you’re here again with him, you’re at a loss. Do you kiss him? Hug him? What are you supposed to say?

“Hi,” you say, sitting back in the seat and folding your hands in your lap.

“Hey,” Joel says back. “Work good?”

“Yeah, just felt like it went by pretty slow.”

He twists around in his seat, puts his hand on the back of yours as he reverses out of the parking spot. Butterflies flip in your stomach. He may as well be touching you.

“So, I was thinkin’,” Joel says once he’s on the road. “Maybe I could take you out somewhere tonight. Drove around town some while you were gone. Saw at least one restaurant, a movie theater of some sort. Could be a proper date.”

“A proper date,” you echo softly. “Been a while.”

In fact, it’d been about three years. You’re too reclusive now. And the pickings were always slim, to begin with.

“Yeah.” He chuckles. “Me too.”

But the butterfly wings are fluttering frantically now. This is something more. This is like that.

“Okay, yes, a date. I’d love to.”

You see the brightness of his smile out of the corner of your eye, and then he’s reaching into your lap to slip your hand into his. Holds it all the way back home. And you’re floating; the only thing that keeps you from touching the clouds is the roof of his truck.

When you make it back, walk through the front door together, it all feels right. Like this is one of thousands of times. Like you have been doing this for twenty years. Of course, he wouldn’t leave when you’re gone. Only now has the thought even re-entered your mind.

“You wanna go lay down for a little while?” you ask him. “Kinda tired.”

He’s hanging his coat up on the rack, looks over at you. “Sounds good.”

You kick off your pretty little heeled boots–the ones that you never really wear anymore because of all the walking you do. The ones you’ve always loved so much.

“Hey, why don’t you wear those tonight?”

You hide your smile. “Maybe I’ve got something even better.” You don’t give him a chance to answer before you’re walking back to your room, and there you’re ripping off all your dirty work clothes, plunging into bed.

Behind you, you hear Joel’s belt coming undone and then his outermost clothes coming off. He slides into bed with you, chest against your back, arm wrapped around your waist. You sigh and sink into him, but sleepiness doesn’t find you. Questions linger in your mind. The ones you can now ask.

“Joel?” you whisper.

“Hm?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“How old are you?”

His soundless laugh rumbles against your back. “You only askin’ me that now?”

“Well, I didn’t know if I could. But we’re going on a date now, so I figure….” The words come out of your mouth, and you realize how dumb they sound. You’re glad you’re not turned to look at him. Your face would be red.

“Darlin’, you’ve known me in all those other ways, and you think I wouldn’t tell you my age? I’m forty-two.”

All of his years fall fluttering like orange autumn leaves. The kind that you’d make a pile of and lay down in, fall asleep in. All of his years wrap you up warm in a blanket, the same way his arms feel around you now.

“Can I ask you one more thing?”

“Yes.”

“What happened with Sarah’s mother?”

This answer does not come with laughter, with the reassurance of something that should have been obvious. It comes only with a long silence. Then, stilted, “We’re not together anymore if that’s what you’re wonderin’.”

“Okay.” A whisper is all you can manage. The rusty nails of shame pin you down.

“It’s alright that you asked, just—” Joel swallows thickly. “It’s no easy answer.”

You turn in his arms, push your head under his chin, face into his neck. “You don’t have to tell me, now or ever.”

The shape of Joel’s grief is a third person wedged between you. It’s a specter, all crooked limbs and gnarled bones. It reaches down his throat and chokes the space where he might let the words pass. It tells him that if he speaks, he will splinter. It wraps him in stony arms and convinces him that the world will be cold from now on. You can feel it, you can know it, because you live with the cold sidled up against your back. Yours is a wild animal, something like a scared doe.

“I want to. It’s just–”

“I know.”

A pause for his own understanding to bloom.

“You’ve been livin’ with something, too.”

“Yes.”

“You don’t have to tell me, neither.”

“I–”

All of it. An attempt to reach out to something beyond. All of it an attempt to strike a match against wet and crumbling logs in a stone circle. To chase out the dark and the cold and the sharp teeth. All of it. An invitation, a hand held out to another frightened voice in the fringes. Try it. Try to make it light with me.

#one of these paragraphs is some of the best writing i have ever done #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #tlou fanfiction #my posts #my writing #sun & sky

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vveakfish · 9 months

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Wish I Knew (You Wanted Me) Linear reading order (chronological) | [table of contents]

On ao3 the series is already ordered chronolocially, for the most part. But this one is a little more thorough.

I'm going to be throwing not only fic titles at you, but chapter numbers too. This reading order will take you through this narrative from beginning to end, as smoothly as possible.

or thats the goal, anyway.

I'll be updating this as we upload more chapters, meaning this post is a WIP. There are arc descriptions and more detailed chapter orders under the cut, but here's the Bare Bones if you don’t want spoilers:

Prologue:

Why Don't You (Say So) Trade My Tomorrows (For Our Yesterday)

Part One:

Dancing (With Another Man) [ch 1-7] Hold On (To Me) [ch 1-4] D(WAM) [ch 8-10] It Started (With A Whisper) D(WAM) [ch 11-12] HO(TM) [ch 5] D(WAM) [ch 13-22] D(WAM) [ch 23-25] | HO(TM) [ch 6+7] D(WAM) [ch 26-31] D(WAM) [ch 32-38] | HO(TM) [ch 8-12] HO(TM) [ch 13-18] D(WAM) [ch 39-41] D(WAM) [ch 42-44] | HO(TM) [ch 19-22] D(WAM) [ch 45-48] HO(TM) [ch 23-25]

Part Two:

Run Away (Take My Hand) [ch 1-11] RA(TMH) [ch 12] | HO(TM) [ch 26-30] HO(TM) [ch 31...] RA(TMH) [ch 13...]

welcome beneath the cut! get comfy, and let me be weird for a bit. This is going to be made up of blurbs about what these different mini ‘arcs’ of the story focus on — as well as trying to lay out chapter by chapter reading orders to the best of my abilities.

And hey! if you (dear reader) have any reading order thoughts of your own, shoot me a comment or a DM

now, lets get into it:

PROLOGUE: Why Don't You (Say So) Trade My Tomorrows (For Our Yesterday)

These two act as a sort of backstory. It gives you a base understanding of what Dick's relationships with Wally and Roy were like, which leads us into

PART ONE: Dancing (With Another Man) [ch 1-7]

this arc sets up the larger conflict of the story, focusing on Dick, Wally, and Roy's reactions to it.

Hold On (To Me) [ch 1-4]

sets up timkon side plot, and shows how the core four are dealing with the main conflict

D(WAM) [ch 8-10] It Started (With A Whisper) D(WAM) [ch 11+12] HO(TM) [ch 5] D(WAM) [ch 13-22]

this seventeen chapter block kicks off the courtship arc which makes up the bulk of the part one plot — tensions are running high, and Dick has big decisions to make.

D(WAM) [ch 23-25] | HO(TM) [ch 6+7]

these two sections show the same events. And there's two potential ways to read them depending on the kind of reading experience you're looking for. Dick's storyline: -> 23, 6, 24, 25, 7 Tim's storyline: -> 6, 24, 25, 7 (+ 23 (optional)) Technically, Dick's story line would be the truly chronological one. You have all the information as soon as it's available to you. Tim's story line, however, makes this chain of events more of a mystery. You still find everything out, there's just more suspense beforehand. chapter 23 (Roy pov) & 7 (Tim pov) cover a lot of the same ground, which is why it would be optional to read 23 after having already read 7. But personally I think there is still something to gained from experiencing the appeal first hand along with Tim's second hand pov. Whether you read both is entirely up to you. Is this convoluted and possibly unnecessary? Yeah, probably, but hey! Have you ever been reading a comic and then had to chase down a tie in issue from another run just to understand what the fuck was happening? Think of it like that. This is superhero comic fanfic, after all.

D(WAM) [ch 26-31]

we'll call this the aftermath. You could read this as is, and it will make sense — in rereading this story in its entirety for this post, however, I've realized there is another potential reading order. 27 (Steph pov) leads directly in from HO(TM) ch 7 so, you could read this arc like this: HO(TM) 7 -> D(WAM) 27, 26, 28-31. Doing this is not necessary to enjoy or understand the story. Technically, it is the more chronological way to read these chapters, but don't worry to hard about this one.

D(WAM) [ch 32-38] | HO(TM) [ch 8-12]

These also happen at the same time, but are completely different scenes. Reading the section from one fic, then reading the section from the next would work perfectly fine. But, lining things up with the stories timeline the 'correct' chronological order is this: -> 32, 8-10, 33-38, 11+12

HO(TM) [ch 13-18]

i call this arc 'the boys are pouting.' basically the whole time Tim and Kon are dealing with their shit(tm), Wally and Dick are being very gay off panel. Dont worry though! we'll get back to them shortly. You could read this arc exactly as it's posted (it alternates between Tim's pov & Kon's) but they are full side plots on their own, so you could read them like this: Tim -> 13, 15, 18 Kon -> 14, 16, 17 This is me being nit-picky at this point, but I'm just writing this all down for the sake of having it all written down.

D(WAM) [ch 39-41]

See! What'd i tell ya

D(WAM) [ch 42-44] | HO(TM) [ch 19-22]

timkon real, not clickbait (42 | 19), (43 | 20), (44 | 21), 22

D(WAM) [ch 45-48] HO(TM) [ch 23-25]

and that is the conclusion to Part One

PART TWO: Run Away (Take My Hand) [ch 1-4]

I think of this arc 'The Tower.' Like the tarot card. Disaster is looming just out of sight, and despite everyone's best efforts there doesn't seem to be a way to avoid it.

RA(TMH) [ch 5-11]

shit hits the fan

HO(TM) [ch 26-30]

the question is now, how do the Core Four feel about the events of the last week, and what do they do about it?

RA(TMH) [ch 12]

Welcome to the Wilderness. Dick and Wally get out of the city — They need a little time, a bit of space, and above all, they need to talk to each other.

HO(TM) [ch 31-35]

Welcome to Cadmus In their search for distraction the core four (and Roy) find themselves deep underground — in Cadmus' secret underbelly.

HO(TM) [ch 36...]

Post Cadmus. The immediate danger has passed, but the mystery is far from solved. The JL is involved, but can the Titans and the League work together to figure out what happened below ground?

RA(TMH) [ch 13-18]

"we need to talk" Dick and Wally might be away from the stress of Titans Tower, and Roy, but they still have their issues to work through.

RA(TMH) [ch 19-21]

Things are heating up (smut section <3)

RA(TMH) [ch 22...]

"we need to talk" Part two, electric boogaloo.

#fishfic #wik(ywm)#...i didn't mean for this to take me all night #but now its four am and im Still working on this #but i do think this works for now #Can you tell i’ve been trying to figure out how to watch all the st*r w*rs content in order?#it got me thinking‚ and now im just riding this wave to the end i guess

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plantcrazy · 9 months

Text

Can I skip to Next Week now?

This week.

So, first I get sick and have been feeling like a sleep-deprived zombie (and I'm still sick, but improving), which means I've lost 4 days to work on my next assessment for my course. This is annoying on its own, given I normally take 2-3 days off to do my own thing (aka. Lost Children stuff) after submitting the last assessment.

And then my Tumblr feed gets Twitterified, into this overcrowded-claustrophobic nightmare!

BUT OH! This isn't the cherry on the cake.

THIS. CUTE. BUNNY. HERE

Do you see this guy?

This is Luca. He's my 7-month-old Rex & Nz White bunny and HE! He bit through my drawing tablet cable T - T

I love you little rascal, but now I can't do digital art till I get a new cable T_T

It's only THURSDAY. Ha, ha, I-I Can't! Please. Someone please let me skip to next week, lol. I don't want to know what else is lined up for the rest of my week.

In other news, Lost Children Ch.5 is 75% of the way there. I managed to hash out 90% of the dialogue on Monday before my sinus took my brain offline. So, should have that done first or second week of September.

And I'll leave you with a small extract from some current chapters in WIP or done out of order, or both >:)

Minor spoilers? Nothing crazy, but it might make you crazy with curiosity 🙃

WIP - Ch.5

“Why the interest Stickmin?” Rupert frowned, “Last I checked you were just in this for your pardon. Which, last I checked: You got.” Henry shrugged quickly. “Illegal be curious?” “Should be.” “B-but it isn’t,” Dave smiled shyly at Rupert, in some attempt to get him to drop his well placed dis-trust. “And um… I’d like to know too. You know, since um… I er, well I know I’ll sleep better knowing they’re locked up t-tight.” “Not yet Dave,” Rupert said, “But they will be soon if I’ve got anything to do with it.” “Me help too.” “We’re fin-“ “Hey don’t we have that BIG raid next week with the British guys?” Charles asked, “Henry could totally tag along! I’m sure there’s stuff he could help with.”

Done - Ch. 11

“It,” B-12 heard the third scientist hiss approaching them. “Stand aside Welsh. If they want to see all 4 elements, we will demonstrate all 4 elements.” “Dr. Thomas th-“ “Stand aside Welsh.” Dr. Thomas ordered. The younger scientist faulted for a moment. He nodded in defeat stepping away from the 4 test subjects. B-12 felt all eyes on him. He saw the fear in B-42 next to him and in front the look of revenge in Dr. Thomas eyes and stale features. Guess his wrath wouldn’t be coming in training after all… He took an involuntary step back. Dr. Thomas took a step forward. The second scientist approached the third, “Tom, I’ve got a lighter you really don’t need to-“ Dr. Thomas ignored the second scientist. “Stand aside brother.” He repeated.

#small update #lost children of the ccc #thsc #the henry stickmin collection #WIP #writing wip #fnafic

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maskeddragon · 1 year

Text

Year in Review under the cut!!

I posted 98 times in 2022

That's 84 more posts than 2021!

56 posts created (57%)

42 posts reblogged (43%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@amaskeddragoness

@bloodredyuki

@hanakos-hat-brooch

@minamototerunii

@gcqaiumi

I tagged 76 of my posts in 2022

Only 22% of my posts had no tags

#tbhk - 54 posts

#toilet bound hanako kun - 41 posts

#jshk - 37 posts

#jibaku shounen hanako kun - 35 posts

#hananene - 18 posts

#hanako - 15 posts

#tbhk memes - 14 posts

#tbhk chapter 86 - 9 posts

#yashiro nene - 8 posts

#not my art - 7 posts

Longest Tag: 91 characters

#sorry boos im not active for the next month or so i got exams the entire term what the hell

My Top Posts in 2022:

had to do it

113 notes - Posted January 19, 2022

//SPOILERS for ch 87 tbhk

Teru @ hanako and kou: Your actions have consequences.

Teru when his actions have consequences:

230 notes - Posted February 18, 2022

it was really good, okay

305 notes - Posted January 21, 2022

Wdym? im pretty sure this is how the picture perfect arc went

>> ty for the ten followers !!!💕 [art by me]

308 notes - Posted January 23, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

//ch 86 spoilers

hanako really went "lmao not going to be caught getting emotionally attached to living people"

🤨📸 this u???

388 notes - Posted January 17, 2022

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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silverskye13 · 2 years

Note

for the ask game, maybe 2, 6, and 42? for Monsters Splitting Hairs?

thanks! -⚙️

2. Go to your AO3 “Works” page, to the sidebar with all the filters, and click the drop-down arrow for “Additional Tags.” What are your top 3-5 most used tags? Do you think they accurately represent your writing habits?

Angst, Monster Dust (Undertale), Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence.

Yeah that's... That's accurate. Monster Dust is less relevant now but I wrote a LOT of Undertale fics.

6. What’s one fact about the universe of [MSH] that you didn’t get a chance to mention in the fic itself?

Oh pfff. Uhhh... I'm trying to think of things that won't show up in the plot later in a major, spoiler-y way.

In the world of MSH, the world influences people as much as people influence the world. Magic is, for lack of a better word, contagious. More contagious some places than others.

A hunter wakes up one day after killing a salamander and they have scales, horns. A host of villagers fend off an assault of phantoms only to fight the next day some of them burn in sunlight. A tinkerer who works with redstone finds at some point they bleed it instead of blood. Magic is a disease, and the people who catch it are the people who are steeped in it day after day. The war was just as much about people as it was about the idea of order vs chaos, of fear and control, and how being resistant to change means you will be ruled by the terror of it.

Needless to say, when the Baron came to rid the valley of monsters, a lot of the Monster Hunters fled the valley in his wake. Too many eyes with split pupils, long hair hiding horns, and gauntleted hands belying claws.

42. Have you ever received a comment that particularly stood out to you for whatever reason?

Yeah. On Hound's Tooth, Ch. 10, there was someone who commented about how Doc's struggle in those chapters made them think of their own hearing implants, and how they'd gone through a similar struggle with the difference between their own ability and their prosthetics. When I wrote Hound's Tooth, I knew very little about prosthetics and the struggles people faced when it came to coping with them. Most of the experiences I drew on for the story was my personal struggles with trans body dysphoria, and some conversations I've had with a friend of mine who has an insulin pump.

It really meant a lot to me that, not only were they willing to talk about their implant and their insecurities involving it, but also that they were able to empathize with Doc. I was really writing something outside of my depth, and the fact that they could still relate to his struggle really bolstered my self-esteem in writing things I'm not familiar with.

Like it's fanfic. I know it's just fanfic. But media is a powerful tool for making people feel seen, and there are a lot of my personal struggles I have only ever seen in fanfic, popular media being what it is. I'm glad I could contribute to that.

#answering asks #anonymous #fic writers ask meme

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synchronousemma · 2 years

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Friday, 24th June (Midsummer): An exploring party to Box Hill

Read the post and comment on WordPress

Read: Vol. 3, chs. 7–8 [43–44]; pp. 240–247 (“They had a very fine day” to “equal, kindly intercourse”).

Context

The Westons, the Woodhouses, the Eltons, Harriet Smith, Jane Fairfax, and Frank Churchill travel to Box Hill. Emma and Frank Churchill flirt. Emma levels an insult. Mr. Knightley scolds. Frank Churchill returns to Richmond in the evening.

We know that this occurs a day after the Donwell Abbey party at “almost Midsummer” (vol. 3, ch. 6 [42]; p. 234), “not [...] above six-and-thirty hours” (vol. 3, ch. 9 [45]; p. 254) before Frank’s return to Richmond on “the 26th” (vol. 3, ch. 14 [50]; p. 289).

The party at Box Hill is the eighth and last “major scene” in the novel per Marcia Folsom (2004, p. xxxi).

Note that the sections “The Insult” and "The Remonstrance" contain spoilers.

Readings and Interpretations

The Great Outdoors

The outing to Box Hill closely follows the strawberry-gathering party at Donwell in time and in emotion; indeed the two scenes are often analyzed as a pair. For Margaret Doody, “a scene of near fulfillment and frustration among the red berries brings on the storm of sexual frustration and anger on Box Hill” (p. 348).

Doody notes that, in light of the fictional nature of “Highbury,” “[t]he important scene on Box Hill in Emma represents an unusual use by Austen of a real and specific outdoor site. In a most interesting departure the action moves away from the settlements (Saxon and Norman) so strongly insisted on elsewhere in the novel. We enter a kind of no-man’s-land, not quite civilization. The expedition transports everyone to a pocket of time as well as an alternative space” (p. 346).

Many critics note that the unusually far abroad setting of Box Hill coincides with a lack of moral or social cohesion. Samuel Burchell, for example, writes that physical space becomes a metaphor for isolation in the description of the outing:

Emma, alone in her selfish and thoughtless existence, is involved in one misunderstanding after another […]. In many ways the picnic at Box Hill becomes the symbol for this tissue of misunderstandings. At the start of the day the appearance of everything was splendid: “They had a very fine day for Box Hill; and all the other outward circumstances of arrangement, accommodation, and punctuality, were in favour of a pleasant party.” But reality—misunderstanding—appears as the people make their way onto the scene: “There was a languor, a want of spirits, a want of union, which could not be got over.” This want of union is more than merely simple misunderstanding of fact; it is the graphic presentation of man’s loneliness. (p. 150)

Burchell argues that, for Jane Austen, this isolation is morally culpable: “misunderstanding and isolation will exist as long as pride, vanity, and weakness exist” (ibid.). Similarly, Alistair Duckworth writes that “the specter of social fragmentation comes closest to actualization” on Box Hill:

On Box Hill, where, as one eighteenth century description has it, the mazes make it “very easy for amorous couples to lose and divert themselves unseen,” a “principle of separation” [p. 240] divides the company into separate groups. There is a “want of union” [ibid.] which the indiscriminately benevolent Mr. Weston is quite incapable of harmonizing: “The Eltons walked together; Mr. Knightley charge of Miss Bates and Jane; and Emma and Harriet belonged to Frank Churchill” [ibid.]. […] [H]ow greatly is the separation to be deplored, and how appropriately does Jane Austen distinguish between the selfishness of the Eltons, the social stewardship of Knightley—he at least is concerned about the fate of single women in society—and the continued and misguided collusion of Emma and Churchill, with Harriet, as usual, in tow. What follows on the hill is an emblem of a vitiated society where selfishness is uncurbed and no publicly accepted rules of behavior permit free and “open” communication. (pp. 176–7)1

Hating Miss Bates

Throughout the novel, Emma has a particular horror of Miss Bates. David Minter writes that “Emma stands in sharp contrast to her world” on this point, given that “the striking thing about Miss Bates is that everyone tolerates her with more grace than Emma, including people more than equally vain, self-indulgent, and callous” (p. 53):

Far from being a matter of one hasty insult, the problem is of long-standing. Emma has always been “rather negligent” in her conduct to Miss Bates [vol. 2, ch. 1 [19]; p. 99]; in fact, she simply finds Miss Bates “too good natured and too silly” (p. 65). But what is here meant by “good natured”; and how does it differ from the qualities Emma consistently admires in the members of her family […]? The distinctive form Miss Bates’s good nature takes can, I think, be defined; and it is closely related to the particular form her self-indulgence takes. Complacent and uncritical, Miss Bates simply refuses to be demanding either of self or of life. From first to last she stands as an embodiment of implicit refusal to demand that self and life compel abundance and style to cohere. From Emma’s point of view, Miss Bates is too good natured precisely because she is content to be, like her speech, an undifferentiated “incessant flow” through which is “lost” the peculiar richness Emma deems most worth cherishing. (pp. 53-4)

John Wiltshire similarly notes Emma’s tolerance of others, and others’ tolerance of Miss Bates, and asks “[w]hat then is it about Miss Bates that gets under Emma’s skin?” He answers:

Miss Bates’s frequent effusions of gratitude are so intrinsic a part of her social presence—‘You are very kind’; ‘so very obliging’; ‘such a very kind attention’ etc.—that they obviously contribute to Emma’s irritation and antagonism. […] The iteration of ‘so very obliging’ is a constant reminder that, as Knightley is to put it later, Miss Bates has ‘sunk from the comforts she was born to’; a reminder of social inequality, and thus, as Emma must instinctively recognise, of the obligation to oblige. Thus Miss Bates, unconsciously and as it were helplessly, exacts her due from that social contract which has so much to do with the kindness that is Emma’s conceptual nexus. (p. 112–3)

The Insult

Emma insults Miss Bates on Box Hill in a moment that the “interpretive history of Emma repeatedly records […] as ‘the emotional climax of the novel’” (Rosmarin, p. 332): As John Wiltshire writres, “[y]ou brace yourself for this moment, however many times you have read Emma, and when it comes it is still ghastly. ‘Ah! Ma’am, but there may be a difficulty. Pardon me—but you will be limited as to number—only three at once’” (p. 115).

Emma’s especial dislike of Miss Bates, and the awkwardness, discomfort, and disappointment of the much-looked-forward-to outing, perhaps combine to produce the conditions for her insult. Wiltshire, amongst other critics, notes the strained circumstances of the day:

If at Donwell, Emma is at ease, the opposite is true of her mood at the picnic. Here she is the victim of the tensions running though the ill-sorted group that Mr Weston has assembled. (He’s assumed that Emma won’t mind Mrs Elton’s being in the party, and that Mrs Elton won’t mind Emma’s; he doesn’t realise that Knightley and Elton are on awkward terms, and he certainly doesn’t know that Frank and Jane have had an altercation the previous afternoon.) Churchill, tense and cross, pretends to be light-hearted, forcing Emma to flirt (she might consider how she’s wounding Harriet: he is knowingly wounding Jane). (p. 114)

Similarly, per David Minter:

Both Frank Churchill’s role and Emma's response to deficiency, to languor, to disunity, and to dullness are central throughout the Box Hill outing; in particular, they are essential to appreciation of Emma’s rudeness to Miss Bates […]. For one implication of the extreme demands Emma makes of life is precisely that she is dangerous—is a threat both to herself and to others—when she is disappointed. This and frustrated and bored […]. Both in this episode and elsewhere, Emma’s extreme demands [for variety and excitement life cannot supply] turn on her to lower rather than exalt her and to injure rather than benefit those around her. (pp. 52–3)2

Emma, therefore, is unable to “resist” uttering her unkind witticism. Per Wiltshire, it is “the ‘mock ceremony’ of Emma’s manner [that] gives her insult its wounding edge”:

What is so confronting about this moment is not just that it exposes the underbelly of Emma’s feelings about Miss Bates—the antagonism and irritation that, as the novel has hinted, runs very deep. It is a shameful betrayal of her own kindness, and, as Mr Knightley soon tells Emma, it is cruel. What makes it so much worse is that because one likes Emma, is committed to her, one instantly feels the shamefulness with her. (p. 115)

In keeping with an interpretation of Austen in which everyday matters have monumental moral significance, dire readings of Emma’s insult predominate. Alistair Duckworth, for example, writes:

[W]hat Emma does when she so flagrantly insults Miss Bates is to violate a social contract; spurred on by Churchill, she forgets her social obligation (or proper role) and adopts the role of an ironic and theatrical wit. After the insult, and a short-lived attempt to play a conundrum game (the last game of the novel), the group erupts into barely concealed hostility (between Mrs. Elton and Emma, between Elton and Churchill, between Churchill and Jane), and were it not for Knightley’s fidelity to his social duty and Emma’s ability soon after to realize the “evil” of her words and wit and truly to repent of them, the ultimate social vision of the novel would be bleak. (p. 177)

Similarly, Mary-Elisabeth Tobin argues that “Emma’s insults and slights at Box Hill have enormous political significance”: “In neglecting her duty as a member of the gentry to care for those members of her society who are less fortunate than she, Emma has clearly violated the rules of an intricate and delicately balanced system of duty and obligation, of benevolence and gratitude. Neglecting her charitable duties is tantamount to severing the ties that bind this society together” (p. 421). Some critics emphasize the personal as well as the social and political stakes: for David Southward, Emma’s behavior amounts to nothing less than a “ruthless humiliation” (p. 769).

In response to this general tendency, Claudia Johnson writes that “[t]he leisurely eddying of Emma’s pace, combined with the insistent ordinariness […] of so much of its material, makes strident moralizing sound a bit strained. As a result, the identification and assessment of the faults which are supposed to make [Emma’s] humiliation and reform necessary have a hyperbolic ring to them” (pp. 127–8). She allows that “Emma transgresses in much the same way [as Mrs. Elton] when she mocks Miss Bates at Box Hill”; however, “shameful” as this insult may be, it “stand[s] out precisely because” “infractions” of its kind on Emma’s part are “infrequent” (pp. 129–30). Johnson also notes Emma’s charity to the Bateses (p. 128): indeed, Tobin’s charge that Emma’s conduct towards Miss Bates has before this been characterized by “neglect” stands against Emma’s later reflection that she had been “remiss, perhaps, more in thought than fact” (vol. 3, ch. 8 [44]; p. 247).

Jenny Davidson, for her part, expresses uncertainty as to “to what extent we would condemn this moment ourselves, as readers, or find Emma deeply morally culpable for what is partly just an inability to resist showing off her own verbal ingenuity,” were it not for the fact that “the novel stages a significant reproach for her in the form of Mr. Knightley’s most severe reproof” (p. 72).

M and A.

Immediately after Emma’s mockery, “Frank’s father […] tries to break the silence caused by Emma’s cruel witticism by producing an ‘indifferent piece of wit’ of his own” (Knoepflmacher, p. 652). U. C. Knoepflmacher writes:

Amply demonstrating his indifference to Emma’s gravest imperfection in the book, Mr. Weston asserts the “two letters of the alphabet” best expressing “perfection” to be “M. and A.—Em—ma” (III, ch. 7, [243]). His gallantry, as inopportune as it is inappropriate, only helps to sharpen our sense of Emma’s fault. But Mr. Weston’s incongruous praise also applies to an imperfection less applicable to Emma than to his own son: the disparity that may exist between the empty professions of a sentiment and an actual truth of feeling. (ibid.)

Critics take this conundrum (as Duckworth noted, the last in a string of games in the novel) as representative of various things. For Cecily Devereux, the joke demonstrates “the narrative’s concern with the slippery nature of words, and the ease with which they may be misunderstood” (p. 43). Joseph Litvak writes that the disaggregated “characters” of Emma’s name remind us that “character need not be a homogeneous entity, that it is an aggregate of many different characters, that the self is no more a fixed identity than the name, a construct susceptible to fragmentation and rearrangement” (p. 770). Thus Knightley’s “characteristic moral seriousness” in objecting to the descriptor of “perfection” (since “[t]wo letters have been left out of Emma’s name, and Knightley wishes to see Emma’s character made whole”) does not succeed in tamping out what there is to “enjoy[]” in the “badness of the pun” (ibid.).

Mark Loveridge writes that “there is another reason (one which is probably over Mr. Weston’s head) why M and A should add up to perfection”; he speculates that the conundrum may be a reference to Francis Hutcheson’s Enquiry into the Original of our Ideas of Beauty and Virtue (1725), in which “M” represents “Moment of Good” and “A” a moral agent’s “Ability”. Thus:

Benevolence, or Virtue in any Agent, is as M/A, or (M + 1)/A, and no Being can act above his natural Ability; that must be the Perfection of Virtue where M = A, or when the Being acts to the utmost of his power for the publick Good; and hence the Perfection of Virtue in this case, or M/A, is as Unity. (Hutcheson, volume II, section iii, p. 172; qtd. in Loveridge, p. 215)

This and the other occasional reference to the Moral Sense writers in Emma evidence a “habit or method of filling the novel with small jokes and party games to do with words and phrases”: this one, in particular, is likely a joke “made for the author and the reader (or those readers in the know) to share, at the expense of the characters” (p. 215). Jillian Heydt-Stevenson writes of this joke that, “unknowingly, Mr Weston identifies what is missing from Emma’s character as well as from almost every member of the Box Hill party: each ‘agent’ acts for his or her own interests rather than for the […] ‘publick Good’ (p. 157).

The Remonstrance

Mr. Knightley famously chides Emma for the insult she levels at Miss Bates: “‘I cannot see you acting wrong, without a remonstrance. How could you be so unfeeling to Miss Bates? How could you be so insolent in your wit to a woman of her character, age, and situation?’” (p. 245). (Of course Miss Bates, as a woman, had not received “an education that would enable [her] to earn [her] livelihood”—she is one of those “women of the middle and lower upper classes who without fortune and independence either lived in genteel poverty or worked as governesses or teachers” (Tobin, p. 415).)

Critics tend to read Knightley’s remonstrance as unbiased and morally righteous. Lynch Hall writes that Knightley “brings Emma (and the reader) to realize that she must tolerate the ridiculous, and that Miss Bates’s ‘situation should secure [her] compassion’ [p. 246]. Mr. Knightley’s disinterested charity and chivalry, then, is brought forward by Miss Bates’s limitations; he is solidified as the hero and is revealed as worthy of the heroine’s hand” (p. 173). David Medalie likewise sees Knightley’s chiding as arising from the immediate circumstance of Emma’s insult, contextualizing it within the social and economic system of Austen’s day:

In many ways, Mr Knightley’s scolding of Emma comes as a surprise—not that he reprimands her, but the way in which he does so. One might have thought that he would deprecate discourtesy in general, insisting that Miss Bates is as entitled as anyone to that due measure of courtesy which is the right of everyone in a civilised society. But that is not what he does. Instead, he bases his criticism on a very specific assessment of the two women’s respective positions in society. […] [H]ere he seems to be taking his insistence on always seeing people in terms of birth, class and money to extraordinary lengths, with the rather startling suggestion that he might even have been willing to overlook Emma’s conduct if Miss Bates enjoyed the same social and economic status […]. What appears to be a form of tendentious morality in him shows instead an understanding of the vulnerability of those disempowered through penury or lack of social status, and the extent to which such people cannot defend themselves against someone like Emma. (p. 6)3

Michele Larrow, who argues that “[a]s Mr. Knightley becomes more aware of his love for Emma, he uses his sympathetic imagination better,” differs from this tone of unmitigated praise. She views this incident as an intermediary step in Knightley’s learning sympathy:

In Mr. Knightley’s remonstrance of Emma’s insult to Miss Bates at Box Hill, he again assumes the role of judge and seems oblivious to the pain his comments will cause Emma. His words are harsh, yet they echo Adam Smith’s view that one has to consider the situation of others to understand their feelings: “‘How could you be so unfeeling to Miss Bates? How could you be so insolent in your wit to a woman of her character, age, and situation?’” When he tells her, “‘It was badly done, indeed! . . . to have you now, in thoughtless spirits, and the pride of the moment, laugh at her, humble her,’” his moral censure is almost overpowering. (n.p.)

Larrow also reminds us that, at this point, Knightley fears that he has lost Emma to Frank. In light of this fact, we can consider that he is trying to issue one last corrective lesson before he resigns Emma to Frank’s bad influence (thus “I will tell you truths while I can,” p. 246, emphasis mine); or else, that his vociferousness is partly fueled by the jealousy induced by watching the two young people flirt all afternoon.4

The Remorse

A conventional reading of Emma views it as containing cycles that are repeated, but with a difference: Emma goes through several iterations of mistake and remorse that ultimately leave her morally improved. For Marcia Folsom, the aftermath of Box Hill marks Emma’s “second great epiphany” (p. 49):

She actually experiences the loss of self-esteem implied in the word “mortified”: “Never had she felt so agitated, mortified, grieved, at any circumstance in her life.” Emma’s habit of expressing herself in triads is here compressed, and this compression makes the blow palpable: “She was most forcibly struck.” In a surprisingly clinical word for Emma’s mood, the narrator says, “She never had been so depressed.” Unlike her buoyant return to her mind’s youthful cheerfulness the morning after Mr. Elton’s proposal, this time, “Time did not compose her” [vol. 3, ch. 7 [43]; p. 246], and she is “just as determined when the morrow came” to fulfill her resolution as she was in her night of remorse [vol. 3, ch. 8 [44]; p. 247]. The difference between these two nights of painful self-criticism suggests she has actually changed and is now more capable of truthful self-examination. (2016, p. 50)

Davidson questions the idea that Emma’s complete moral reform has resulted from this incident:

The skeptical reader may note that it is the fact of Mr. Knightley’s thinking badly of her, rather than deep remorse about the cruelty of her words to Miss Bates, that seems to be emphasized by the language here [“The truth of his representation there was no denying”], and many readers have felt about Emma that the novel’s drama of correction and submission is undermined or at least ironized by the fact that Emma is the stronger personality of the two and has no good reason to reform herself permanently. I think this ambivalence or uncertainty is embedded in the novel’s very language; at the very least, it’s something that can be argued back and forth nearly endlessly. (pp. 72–3)

I would note, however, that Mr. Knightley has disagreed strongly and even displayed anger in arguments with Emma elsewhere in the novel (about Harriet and Robert Smith, for example, or about the probable merits of the as-yet-absent Frank Churchill) without producing in Emma an immediate conviction of “[t]he truth of his representation.”

Ultimately, the Box Hill scene is an enigmatic one. Michael Gamer writes of the “pleasure [Austen] takes in providing surfaces that point to corresponding depths, only to expose those apparent depths as surfaces that are never fully known or explained”:

Emma’s final chapters may expose the "real" alliances that have driven the episode and that constitute Emma’s ending, but they cannot account for Frank Churchill’s behavior or describe Jane Fairfax’s feelings, let alone explain Emma’s loathing of Jane or her reasons for attacking Miss Bates. Even Knightley's attempt to close the episode by chastizing Emma leaves fundamental questions unanswered, such as whether Emma should support Miss Bates because she has fallen from her former stature (i.e., has become an object of sympathy) or because she remains, however tenuously, of the same class (i.e., is a person whose fall matters). Knightley’s attempt to reduce the episode to class, moreover, occurs at the end of a chapter until then surprisingly free of such awareness; and class analysis, so useful in previous chapters, does not even begin to provide insight into how people behave at Box Hill. It neither answers why the parties divide as they do nor explains why they converse with such strain. […] I find myself, therefore, believing less in the deep interiority of Emma’s characters—an interiority that would defy surface—than in Austen’s belief in a social density that is unsortable, unexplainable, and therefore unanswerable to any discursive formation. (n.p.)

Footnotes

On Box Hill’s association with lovers and sex see Doody (pp. 346–9).

Contrast Susan Morgan, who argues that an essential aspect of Emma is how it demonstrates that the demands of the imagination need not be unfulfilled.

For another formulation of this argument see Tobin.

On Knightley’s remonstrance see also also Babb (pp. 187–8).

Discussion Questions

What makes Emma fail to tolerate Miss Bates despite being able to tolerate her father? What motivates Emma’s insult?

Do you agree that the general critical tone of moral condemnation of Emma’s insult is overweaning, as Johnson suggests?

Should we perform a “humanist” or “transhistorical” reading, “interpret[ing] Emma’s thoughts and actions as a variation of the growing pains endemic to a universal young adulthood” (Tobin, p. 413)? Or is an understanding of “political, social, and economic problems specific to early nineteenth-century Britain” necessary to understand the significance of this episode (ibid.)?

What is the significance (on the level of textual effect, plot, or character) of Mr. Weston’s conundrum?

What motivates Mr. Knightley to reprove Emma? What is the overall tone of his remonstrance?

Does Emma’s remorse stem from her own reflection and moral code, or from Mr. Knightley’s disapproval? What hinges on the answer to this question?

Bibliography

Austen, Jane. Emma (Norton Critical Edition). 3rd ed. Ed. Stephen M. Parrish. New York: W. W. Norton & Company, [1815] 2000.

Burchell, Samuel C. “Jane Austen: The Theme of Isolation.” Nineteenth-Century Fiction 10.2 (September 1955), pp. 146–50. DOI: 10.2307/3044229.

Davidson, Jenny. Reading Jane Austen. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press (2017), pp. 144–8. DOI: 10.1017/9781108367974.

Devereux, Cecily. “‘Much, Much beyond Impropriety’: Ludic Subversions and the Limitations of Decorum in Emma.” Modern Language Studies 25.4 (Autumn 1995), pp. 37–56. DOI: 10.2307/3195487.

Doody, Margaret Anne. Jane Austen’s Names: Riddles, Persons, Places. Chicago: University of Chicago Press (2015).

Folsom, Marcia McClintock, ed. Approaches to Teaching Austen’s ‘Emma’. New York: MLA (2004).

_____. “Emma: Knowing Her Mind.” Persuasions 38 (2016), pp. 41–55.

Gamer, Michael. “Unanswerable Gallantry and Thick-Headed Nonsense: Rereading Box Hill.” Romantic Circles.

Heydt-Stevenson, Jillian. “Games, Riddles and Charades.” In The Cambridge Companion to Emma, ed. Peter Sabor. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press (2015), pp. 150–65. DOI: 10.1017/CBO9781316014226.013.

Johnson, Claudia L. “Emma: ‘Woman, Lovely Woman, Reigns Alone’.” In Jane Austen: Women, Politics, and the Novel. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1988, pp. 121–43.

Larrow, Michele. “‘Could He Even Have Seen into Her Heart’: Mr. Knightley’s Development of Sympathy.” Persuasions On-Line 37.1 (Winter 2016).

Litvak, Joseph. “Reading Characters: Self, Society, and Text in Emma.” PMLA 100.5 (October 1985), pp. 763–73. DOI: 10.2307/462096.

Minter, David Lee. “Aesthetic Vision and the World of Emma.” Nineteenth-Century Fiction 21.1 (June 1966), pp. 49–59. DOI: 10.2307/2932698.

Morgan, Susan J. “Emma Woodhouse and the Charms of Imagination.” Studies in the Novel 7.1 (Spring 1975), pp. 33–48.

Rosmarin, Adena. “‘Misreading’ Emma: The Powers and Perfidies of Interpretive History.” ELH 51.2 (Summer 1984), pp. 315–42.

Southward, David. “Jane Austen and the Riches of Embarrassment.” Studies in English Literature, 1500–1900 36.4 (Autumn 1996), pp. 763–84. DOI: 10.2307/450975.

Tobin, Mary-Elisabeth Fowkes. “Aiding Impoverished Gentlewomen: Power and Class in Emma.” Criticism 30.4 (Fall 1988), pp. 413–30.

Wiltshire, John. “The Heroine.” In The Cambridge Companion to Emma, ed. Peter Sabor. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press (2015), pp. 105–19.

#Emma #Jane Austen #Emma Woodhouse #Mr. Knightley #Mr. Elton #Mrs. Elton #Frank Churchill #Mr. Weston #Mrs. Weston #Jane Fairfax #Harriet Smith #e

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