Tokyo Ghoul:re Chapter 13 Spoiler Images

Mutsuki: There are too many people here it’s making sick… Sensei, have you been to this kind of place before…?

Sasaki: I went together with Akira-san once during an investigation. Akira-san wanted to drink, but I had to stop her.

Shirazu: Hey…

Shirazu: We… no, don’t you think I’m the only one who looks off here…? <— Shirazu used his usual masculine tone while speaking.

Saiko: No, no, it’s cute, pfff—

Sasaki: Hey, Shi-chan, you should choose your words carefully. <—Sasaki is basically telling him to speak like a woman. Btw, Sasaki speaks in feminine tone here.

Shirazu: But… Such a huge girl, you don’t usually see one around, do you?

Sasaki: Just think yourself as a really tall girl.

Saiko: Yo, Delmo.

Shirazu: Rather than that, Saiko, you bastard, there’s something wrong with this huge differences between Tooru and I! You did a clumsy job

Saiko: Oh no, I was pumped up because the material is good. It’s so amazing. That face is totally a woman. 


Shirazu: Even so, what’s up with Sassan who did it on his own? <— He basically protested the fact that Sasaki managed to make himself look perfectly like a woman on his own without Saiko’s help.

Sasaki: Stop making a fuss. And right now it’s Sasako.

[Learned it from the book] <— LOL, sure, he can learn anything from books. XD;;;

Sasaki: You want to make up for the mistake you did recently, don’t you? It’s time to unleash yourself.

Shirazu: (Urie… Why is he at a time like this…)

Saiko: Your face has been seen. It’s more fun— I mean I put a thick make up on you so you won’t be found out.

Shirazu: I got it already! <— He speaks in feminine tone here.

Sasaki: Ah, he accepted it.


From last chapter, right after Sasaki told everyone to become girls…

Sasaki: Let’s have a decoy.

Shirazu: Decoy?

Sasaki: From Nuts’ “material list”, it seems that the orders are mostly women from the age of 10’s to 20’s. Nuts gathered them under the pretense of “part-time job”.

Mutsuki: That’s why we have to catch her (Nuts) attention…

Mutsuki: (Girl’s clothing… It’s been a while…)

Mutsuki: (It’s not like I have “a heart of a man” inside me…)

Voice: (Oh! Woman! Woman! Woman! Woman! So nice! Talk to her! Right, hey!)

Mutsuki: (But… I don’t like it… Male's gaze… They are disgusting.)

Sasaki: Mucchan.

Sasaki: It’s all right. You’re cute.

Mutsuki: T-Thank you.

Mutsuki: (I wasn’t worried in that way… It’s like… It’s ticklish…)

Waiter: Service… please have a glass.

Mutsuki: Ah, thank you.

Sasaki and Shirazu are watching Nuts. Nuts is offering the women in the club “party helper” part-time job.

Sasaki: That person looks like she’s falling into the bait. If Nuts managed to get someone here, she might change location after.

Shirazu: About Saiko… I think Sassan, you’re too soft on her. Is there any reason to that?

Sasaki: Soft… Saiko-chan, she…

Shirazu: ??

Sasaki: Her mother left her husband’s house, while bringing the two siblings with her. With the support of her lover, she started a snack bar, but it didn’t seem to go well.

Because the tuition fee was cheap, Saiko-chan and her older brother were put in the CCG Academy’s junior school.

Sasaki: So while having no interest to become a Ghoul Investigator, during the time when she has to decide what course to take, the Junior students were asked to take part in the “Q’s Compatibility Test.” Out of 6 who are compatible, Saiko-chan was the best candidate.

Sasaki: From the beginning, she has no desire to become a Ghoul Investigator. She was terrible in both academy and practical skill, you know that too, don’t you?

Shirazu: Yeah, she brought games with her during class. The teacher often got mad at her.

Shirazu, Saiko and Urie came from the same Academy.

Sasaki: Her mother gave the approval to the surgery when she heard about the rewards. Even with the explanation in regards of the danger, it fell on deaf ears. …That’s what I heard.

Sasaki: My current position requires me to guide her, and that’s what I intend to do, but then… She took the Q’s surgery and became an investigator against her will, I think expecting her to do more than this, no matter how I think about it, it’s too much…

Shirazu: …What a terrible parent. Having parents don’t always bring happiness. Urie seems to have lost both. Tooru has his entire family massacred by ghouls… As for me… my old man is like that… And I don’t know where my mum went to… But as long as I have “that family”, I can continue working. If you in need of money, isn’t it fine to just work hard and earn them. With that kind of Mother, she could have just cut her ties off.

Sasaki: …You’re probably right.

Shirazu: (Sassan… is different from us… or Saiko. It’s not about whether having parents or not, it’s not knowing anything. If it were me, I would be scared… it’s amazing, “senpai”) <— The senpai might be a reference to Shirazu overhearing Sasaki calling Nishio “senpai”.

Shirazu: Um… Sassan…

Sasaki: Hmm?

Shirazu: If you regain your memory, will you quit becoming an investigator? 

Sasaki: What? Are you lonely?

Shirazu: N-No! That’s not it! If Sassan isn’t around, Urie will be gloating.

Sasaki: Haha, indeed.

Sasaki: I’m not going to quit…

Shirazu: R-Right… Sorry for asking a strange question…

At that moment, Mutsuki’s laughter can heard from a far.

Mutsuki: Ahahaha!

Sasaki & Shirazu: ??

Mutsuki: No, really, it’s great, that hairstyle. Really great!

Sasaki: Mutsuki-kun…?

Shirazu:: Tooru… What is he…

Sasaki: Is he drunk?

Saiko: Maman~

Sasaki: Saiko-chan?

Saiko: Mucchan-ko, it seems that he drinks… He stinks of liquor.

Sasaki: EH!? Is that why he went with such a bold approach? And isn’t he barely a minor? What is he doing?

Mutsuki: !

Sasaki: He’s coming here!?

Mutsuki: Sensei! Just now, she invited me to a “part-time job”!

Sasaki & Shirazu: !

Mutsuki: I also got their contact information! We can proceed to spy further!

Shirazu: You’ve done well, Tooru!

Mutsuki: He-he-he~

Sasaki: …

Sasaki: Mucchan… But…

Mutsuki: Then I shall dance, the dance of victory!

Sasaki: But why?

Saiko: I’ll accompany you!

Shirazu: Hey, Saiko!

Sasaki: …Geez.

SasakI: (…Shirazu-kun… If I gain back my memory… )

SasakI: (Will “I” die?) <— “I” here refers to Haise.

Sasaki: (I wish I can keep remembering… all of you…)

Nico: Roma, we have seen that face before, right?

Roma: Nico-neesan, is that… The rumored one? The rumored one? 

Roma: …Haise-kun. He’s coming! He’s coming! Not only the atmosphere feels different, he also cross-dresses. but he’s still look just like Kaneki-sama. But then… he looks so happy, doesn’t it annoy you?

Nico: Is it?

Roma: It is! Kaneki-sama being sucked by the swamp of tragedy, that painful struggle is so beautiful… How should I say it… I don’t want him going “I won’t lose to tragedy!”. That’s what Roma thinks.

Hurry up and return~, return that white and beautiful Kaneki-sama to Roma… Isn’t better that Haise-kun died?

***Everyone, grabs your shields. We need to protect Haise. (ノಠ益ಠ)ノ

Nico: Geez… You really do whatever you like… But indeed, overflowing wine is beautiful. The upcoming auction, we might be able to see something interesting, right?

Washuu Matsuri (29) Associate Special Class, 179 cm, 79 kg.

Matsuri: Sit down.

Chapter 13 Random Thoughts

I finally finished translating the full script.

This chapter makes me want to cry. We finally get to know pretty much most of the Qs background. In particularly Saiko’s one in detail. It turned out she has a really screwed up mother who sold her off for the rewards.

Mutsuki is confirmed having no other family members left, and Shirazu is working hard for his family. It seems that he has his own family problem.

But the biggest bomb is perhaps the conversation between Sasaki and Shirazu. Oh, my feels. I can’t read the chapter with a straight face. I feel like crying a Niagara fall now. TT__TT

To complete the tragedy, now the Clowns are back full force to screw with Kaneki/Sasaki’s life further. Why are there so many foreshadowing that Sasaki will 100% disappear once he remembers? No, please, Ishida-sensei, have mercy… QAQ

And Roma, oh man… She is one crazy woman.

SSS: When the Moon, Ch 13 (final teaser!)

This is pretty much the last non-spoilery moment in the whole chapter, which I’m planning to edit and post before the end of the week. (No promises but I’m aiming for a day or two after the trailer…maybe Thursday?)

And on that note: good night, everybody. :) :) :)


As surely as I am a fox, my boy is a bear: broad and strong and soft all at once, with honey-scented breath. I want to climb into the nest of his paws and scurry up one powerful foreleg to nuzzle his neck with my little snout.

He looks up as I arrive and clambers to his feet, his jaw slack. “My little fox,” he breathes.

My own jaw drops in response, not because of my silly fox-maiden musings of a few moments ago but something much deeper and sadder and far more beloved. “What did you call me?” I rasp.

He blushes a cranberry-crimson. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I saw you wrapped in the fox fur and it reminded me of an old tale my father used to tell, where a prince met a little fox beneath an apple tree.”

I raise my brows in surprise. “A golden-haired prince?” I wonder, because I know this story too, or rather a different version thereof, where a little fox meets a prince beneath an apple tree. Two species find each other: a fox, tiny and wild and endearingly obsessed with chickens, and a yellow-haired boy, and the fox teaches the curious prince how to tame a wild thing. Even as a child the ending broke my heart to bits, because the fox came to love the prince almost at once but his heart belonged to a rose, whole and entire, and after taming the fox he left to return to his flower.

My father rarely told it without tears in his eyes.

“The ending always broke my heart,” Peeta says. “I always wondered why he didn’t stay with the fox or take it with him after winning its trust.”

“Its heart,” I correct in a whisper. “It was a girl fox – a little vixen. That was how my father told it.”

“A little vixen,” Peeta echoes, and somehow, mysteriously, his hands are on my shoulders, drawing me close. “My little vixen,” he murmurs, “do you suppose anyone, prince or poor boy, could leave you behind after winning your heart?”

About Chapter 12 and 13

I got so many asks about this. It seems that a lot have missed this, so I will say it here again.

Imperial Scans are working on Chapter 12. They said the timing is bad so they have no idea when they will release it. It’s New Year so some people might have holidays. It’s normal to have a delay.

For chapter 13, there are two double issues for Christmas and New Year, so expect 2 weeks without chapters. According to some forums, the earliest spoiler might come at 17 January.

I understand it’s difficult to wait, but mangaka/translators need breaks too. In the meantime, you can relax, chill, drink tea/coffee, reread TG chapters again, or read my ramblings/theories/speculation~ XD

Oh, and TG√A is coming in 4 days~

Valiard Chapter 13 is Out!

I’m releasing a Beta Copy of Chapter 13 for those of you who can’t wait another week for the next Valiard instalment. It still needs some polishing, but it will remain largely identical to the edited copy that will be published in a few days. You really won’t miss out on anything by reading this early draft. :)

Hope you guys like it! ^_^

Writing Check-In: When the Moon, Ch 13

A little bedtime treat for you. Hope okay. :)


I focus so entirely on working the brain mash into the skin that I nearly miss the quiet knock from the direction of the workshop – from its back door, which faces the woods. Frowning, I wipe the worst of the slurry from my hands with a length of rag and get to my feet. No one ever knocks out here, save for Lavinia waking me on New Year’s morning and Peeta coming to my door on New Year’s Eve to collect a suitably large stocking to fill with holiday treats and ask what I wanted for a present. Unless Pollux is being especially silly, which seems unlikely today, there’s no reason for anyone to be at the back door of the workshop, let alone knocking at it.

I wonder for one wild moment if it could be my night companion, beloved of the woods and dwelling in its shadows, coming boldly to me by daylight. I wonder if he brought a second wintergreen sprig for my hair or perhaps some equally rare and impossible treasure: an armful of golden honeysuckle, perhaps, or a branch of downy silver catkins.

Of a certain he won’t linger at the door, my silent, elusive sweetheart, but if I ran to answer it I just might catch a glimpse of him. Of the cheek that laid on my rabbit-skin pillow last night, wet with tears; of the lips that pressed the crown of my head in three precious kisses or the hands that tied a red ribbon around one perfect orange before tucking it snugly into my palm.

A red ribbon that lies at the heart of my right braid at this very moment.

Driving the whole ridiculous notion from my mind while, at the same time, cursing the lack of a window in the shop, I slow my steps to a deliberate pace, take my skinning knife from the workbench, and edge the door open the smallest crack.

As I expected, there is no one standing outside, only a fresh trail of boot-prints…and the chopping block, posed like a little table, with a fairy’s feast spread across its surface, over a red handkerchief for a tablecloth. I discard my knife and shoulder the door wide open, approaching the display with the cautious intrigue of a hungry chipmunk.

There’s the enormous bowl-sized mug in which Peeta delights to serve me hot drinks, topped with a towering heap of whipped cream and cross-hatched from edge to edge with glimmering threads of what must be cinnamon-honey drizzle, a Katniss-sized loaf of nut-and-seed bread with a dish of soft white goat cheese, several slices of Rooba’s finest holiday sausage…and half of a freshly peeled orange.

Are you my sweetheart? I ask the woods in thunderous silence, but before it can reply my attention is recaptured by the final, centermost piece of the fairy’s feast: a tiny round cake, just a little larger than my palm. Its color and heady aroma betray it instantly as a ginger cake, but rather than a drizzle of hot custard it features a glaze – a thin, opaque sugar-shell crowning the cake like a pane of ice and spilling artfully down its sides in frozen drips – and at the center of this sugar canvas is painted, as dainty and intricate as frost-feathers on a windowpane, a bird. A mourning dove, all soft cooing grays and dusty browns and one bright black eye, with a tiny red stocking cap – exactly like the one I’ve worn for the better part of the day – tied at her downy throat. Above her head, arching to follow the curved edge of the cake, is a kissing bough, woven with so many sweetheart ribbons that the branch is as much red as green, and at her feet is a platter of pinhead-sized cookies: crosshatched circles of peanut butter, golden shortbread squares, and tiny, adorable butter-cookie snowmen.

It’s more than I can bear. I’m suffused by a wave of love so strong that I can’t draw breath and I double over with a cry. “I love you,” I moan to the little cake, hugging my knees as I rock in the snow, because if I don’t let the words past my lips just once my heart will burst and Pollux will find me slumped dead – or, at the very least, insensible and unresponsive – over the brain-slurry tonight.

My boy. Oh, my boy. My sweet, sweet boy.

Judging Books By Covers

TITLE: Judging Books By Covers

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter Thirteen

AUTHOR: wolfpawn


Imagine Loki is cast out into a castle in his Jotun form, under a spell that will return him to his Aesir one if he learns to accept himself for who he is, not what he looks like, and can find another who will do the same. Angry and repulsed by his own appearance, Loki fears he will live out his days as the monster he so greatly loathes. 


Lagertha gasped as she looked around the room. Loki stood to her side gazing at her so he could gauge her reaction. “I take it you like?” He smiled.

“I love!” She shrieked, jumping up and down, her eyes darting side to side, not knowing where to start looking. Suddenly she became aware of her behaviour and began to blush profusely. “Sorry.” She whispered as she looked to the floor.

“Do not apologise.” Loki smiled wider. “I was hoping for a good reaction, so for you to react as well as that is most certainly welcome. But I fear I must confess something.” Lagertha looked at him in concern. “There’s more.”

“More?” Lagertha was unsure she could handle more. Excitement coursed through her like lightning.

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The Prince and the Youtuber - Chapter 13

Description: Dan Howell is the Prince of England and the first grandson of a late King, and Phil Lester is a famous Youtuber who turns out to be the first grandson of a late King’s Hand, the best friend of the late King. On one night of celebration of their daughters’ pregnancies 18 years ago, the best friends made a drunken pact to marry their first grandchildren to each other the year they both turn 18, completely forgetting to consider that their first grandchildren could both be male.

Tags: Fluff, Royalty AU, Humor(???)

{A/N: it took me ages to write this chapter jfc sorry if this one’s badly written ((i honestly think it is)) bear with me :c i just got terribly stuck on this one *phew* glad I finished it tho, i hope y’all still enjoy bc i had to drag myself out of bed while sleep-deprived to publish this now bc i forgot to queue it yesterdat and this morning, i was still on post limit omfg D: feedback is welcome ;) *plz*}

Masterpost here c:

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*Dan’s POV*

It’s official. I have no talent with avoiding embarrassing and awkward situations and conversations.

“Muuuuum… We don’t have to talk about it, really, please don’t,” I groaned, shaking my head in protest. This is embarrassing enough already.


“Oh, but we do, Daniel. I think you’re forgetting that you’re the Prince of England, we need to know details so we could be sure you’re going to be alright,” my mum said, trying to sound stern. I rolled my eyes, already seeing through her bluff. I could see her mouth twitching, knowing that she’s fighting a grin of amusement. She’s totally enjoying this.


“Fine. He wants to take me out and about London. On the 9th. I was thinking I could just let someone pick him up from his flat and bring him here, then we leave from here together,” I muttered, glaring at a plate of cheese which suddenly looked so interesting in my perspective. My mum simply nodded, her forehead creased.

“So… So, do you want to be seen with him? Or will you put on a disguise of some sort?” She asked, sounding unsure of herself.

“Actually, mum… I think I don’t want to be seen with him just yet. Also,” I peered at her, my hand finding its way into my hair again, fidgeting. “I think I want to be alone with him for the date,” I bit my lip, holding my breath. I mentally crossed my fingers, hoping for the best.

“What? Alone? Do you mean you don’t want bodyguards?” My father spoke, sounding a bit surprised. I exhaled in relief. At least he didn’t sound mad. I looked at him and nodded, to which he just cocked an eyebrow upward in response. He looked at my mum, and they shared a look, making my stomach do nervous flips. My mum shook her head at him, then stared at me sadly, and with the gesture, I tensed in my seat. What was that about?


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Sleepytime Teaser/Writing Check-In: When the Moon, Ch 13

I may have promised someone one last treat before turning in for the night… :)


I slip my hands free of Peeta’s but he catches me gently by the wrists before I can step away from him. “What is it, Katniss?” he asks, the words quiet but direct. “I can feel it in your touch. One minute you’re soft and open and just…melting into me,” he says with a little catch in his voice. “And the next you’re like stone, rigid and closed off and you can’t get away fast enough. Is it me?” he wonders softly. “Something I say or do? I ask myself that every time but it never seems like anything’s changed from one moment to the next. I’m hugging you or you’re hugging me when all of a sudden you freeze up and push away, like you’ve been hurt or are afraid you will be.”

This, of course, is true, if not quite the way he perceives it, and for a moment all I can do is stare at him, startled and speechless. I never knew he could tell – never thought he would care – that I was withdrawing from him, but with these words it’s clear that he’s been aware, maybe longer than I have, and that it’s confused and even saddened him. I can’t imagine why and then I recall rare moments from my childhood when I held a wild animal, a dazed fledgling or a merry peeper or once, for half a heartbeat, a terrified rabbit kit that had nearly become a snake’s breakfast. My father steadied my hands and gently stayed my fingers when I tried to pet or cuddle with too much enthusiasm, and he always hugged me afterward when the animal inevitably sprang from my hold to return to its burrow or mother. Letting go is the most important part of taming, catkin, he whispered against my braids as I sniffled, my heart breaking for just one more finger-stroke over powdery feathers or a downy belly. But that doesn’t ever make it easy.

I look at this boy who understands taming perfectly well, despite all the reasons why he shouldn’t, and wonder how he’s borne it this long. However content he may be to feed and house a wild thing, the reward of taming is companionship and devotion, whether he expects it or not: feathers against his cheek and soft paws on his chest and an eager snout nuzzling its way into the musky burrow of his neck. I remember all too clearly how it hurt to feel an animal struggle from my hands after I had soothed its trembling with gentle pets and sometimes even a stolen kiss on the head, and I realize that this is what I’ve been doing to Peeta all along.

The only pain that results from his touch stems from my own heart and mind, which are foolish enough to want something they’ve always known they couldn’t have.

“I’m sorry, Peeta,” I whisper. “I never meant to hurt you –”

“You didn’t,” he assures me, releasing my hands and raising his to cradle my nape once more. “Never, Katniss. I was afraid I’d been hurting you.”

“You couldn’t,” I assure him in turn, leaning back a little to rub my head against one strong hand in a stolen caress. Perhaps I’m a vixen after all, I think wryly. A little girl-fox, hungry for her boy’s touch and terrified when it’s given, so she steals pats and strokes on her own terms. “I guess I’m just…more wild than I realized.”

“And all the lovelier for it,” he says with a smile. “I’ve lived in the woods long enough to recognize the beauty of doves and does – of all manner of wild things, Katniss – and their trust is a treasure beyond price. I wouldn’t expect it to be easily won.”

     Kíli gripped Fíli’s coat and hiccupped a sob into his shoulder.
     "We’re alright,“ Fíli said.
     "I thought you were gone,” Kíli replied brokenly.
     Fíli leaned back, holding Kíli at arm’s length so that he could see his face. Fíli shook his head, and he was grinning despite the moistness of his eyes.
     "I know how desperately you want to be king, but you’re not getting rid of me that easily,“ he chuckled.
     Kíli smiled, a goofy, lopsided thing. "I guess I’ll just have to try harder next time.”

Illustration and excerpt from Fate Be Changed Chapter 13: The Front Porch.