#The dialogue in this is...weird...but they both use words in a horrible way

[apocalypse-shuffle]

AMBER FREEMAN | GHOSTFACE (scream 2022)

—

“Sent A Whole World Crying - pt1” (unrequited Amber Freeman x Fem!Reader) and (background Mindy Meeks-Martin x Fem!Reader)

| You accidentally let Amber know that you think she’s Ghostface (through DM’s); she’s not about to let you live through that mistake, obviously…probably.

| NSFW, canon typical violence, psychological trauma, unrequited feelings, angst (TW: general sadism, malicious concern, some taunting, reader-insert is harmed, slight metaphorical smut - some of the descriptors and dialogue I use are suggestive enough that it could be triggering.)

| Listen I’ve seen the analysis of who killed who in the movie, but for the sake of this fic I don’t care. (pic source: scream 2022 + promotional poster)

| Happy Early October!!

| 4k+ words

You:

- Mindy I’m telling you! - She keeps disappearing during the kills and then coming back all twitchy - Why aren’t you answering? You were all for looking into this shit earlier - Mindy! - I know you love Tara and they used to date or whatever but you know I’m right. - She’s probably Ghostface - Come on girl I’m being serious

You’ve been texting Mindy for the last two hours now and she’s still yet to answer you.

You didn’t know if it was because of how much shit you gave her for her insistence on trying to figure out who’d attempted to kill Tara a few nights ago (as if murder accusations were just mere gossip), or because she just hadn’t checked her texts yet, but this was bugging you to much for you to drop.

Hypocritical or not.

At first you’d blown off the signs, but red flags were red flags and eventually if they added up enough they started to look like blood splattered on the walls. Which didn’t help with the way your friend’s particular brand of paranoia was starting to rub off on you.

Now, you’ve managed to work yourself up so much at Amber’s most recent disappearing act that you’d nearly ran home so you could safely text Mindy.

In a circumstance that was beginning to be rarer and rarer for you both, you couldn’t be up underneath each other right now and so her DM’s would have to suffice.

She was busy with the film club at the moment, but she’d never once begrudged you texting her whenever. Plus, after going out with her and her friends last night, then stewing over your observations all day, you needed to tell somebody what you thought.

You weren’t very close to the group Mindy hung out with — you fucked with your own company just fine — but you and Mindy had become close over your mutual hate of your philosophy class and eventually she’d stumbled through asking you to hang out as a group (still blunt as ever even despite her raging blush) so you’d been with her friends at the bar only because she asked.

Friendship obligations, and all that.

It wasn’t like you didn’t want to figure out who would do something so horrible just as much as they did either. It was just that you only truly cared for Mindy and Chad’s sakes.

Or at least as much as most of them wanted to figure this situation out.

Amber talked a big game about caring for Tara’s safety above all else and vetting everyone the smaller teen came into contact with, but after that jerk who got y’all kicked out Amber had disappeared too. She came back overly excited — weird considering her best friend was almost brutally murdered — and there had been smudges on her shoes. You couldn’t confirm that it was that guy's blood, but you certainly felt like it was. The glint of something thick and wet was pretty hard to miss even on black boots.

Which was why you needed Mindy to answer you. You couldn’t bank on Amber fucking off around the same time the news reported Ghostface killed that man being a happy little coincidence.

Amber was pushy and rude on a good day and on a bad you’d seen her be downright malicious before, tripping someone down the stairs after he’d bumped into her type of malicious.

Plus ever since you started hanging out with Mindy you’ve noticed her staring at you more often, and no matter the contemplative look on Amber’s face whenever you caught her staring, her attention still made the hairs on the back of your neck prickle.

Sighing, you unlock your phone and check your messages again, pacing around your room all the while, before something catches your eye.

That wasn’t Mindy’s handle. It just looked nearly identical.

Shit, no wonder she wasn’t responding.

Jolting to a stop in the middle of the room, you rush to delete the messages.

It’s as you’re deleting the fourth that the green ‘active now’ dot shows up beside the unfamiliar username and then ‘read’ pops up underneath your last three texts.

“Damnit,” you grumble, still deleting the last couple texts. It won’t do much now, but if you were fast enough the person at least won’t be able to show anyone else or prove what you said.

Your stomach flips a little as you see the three dots pop up in the vacant space left behind by your erasing spree.

You freeze.

And then, heart in your stomach, you just react, exiting out of the conversation and going to the person's account and blocking them.

Oh god, you were so fucked. Shit. You really hoped that wouldn't come back to bite you in the ass.

You sit down on your bed with a huff, heart beating so fast it feels like you just ran the mile in gym class again. Dropping your phone on your comforter you shake out your trembling fingers. You suppose that was a sign that maybe you should just keep your opinion to yourself.

You rub your hands down your face.

Yeah, okay. Problem kind of (maybe) avoided for now. You’d just have to hope for the best.

You grunt, “Okay, I need a nap.”

And then you take that nap. As is your right.

─────

You’re jarred from sleep a few hours later by the sound of a continuous series of buzzing, and glare sleep crusted eyes up at your blurred ceiling fan.

Mindy had better not be calling you for some contrite shit again, like helping her beat Chad at whatever late night game they’d decided to occupy their twin insomnia with at — rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you look at your phone — eleven pm.

Honestly though, who else would be ballsy enough to start rapid texting you like this in the goddamn middle of the night? The other girl knew you went to sleep around nine on school nights, but Mindy did whatever she—

It feels like your heart stops beating as your Face ID unlocks your phone and you finally read the messages. Ones sent from what looks like a throwaway account with a handle you don’t remotely recognize.

The particular messages, on the other hand, are horribly familiar.

Unknown:

- Mindy I’m telling you! - She keeps disappearing during the kills and then coming back all twitchy - Why aren’t you answering? You were all for looking into this shit earlier - Mindy! - I know you love Tara and they used to date or whatever but you know I’m right. - She’s probably Ghostface - Come on girl I’m being serious - •••

Wide eyed, you can’t do anything but watch as another series of messages are sent.

Unknown:

- you think I’m some bitch faced little girl - well I’ll show you

And just like that you hear the power in the house cut off and watch with stilted breath as the service bar at the top of your screen goes down.

Immediately afterwards a message pops up on your phone to inform you that you’ve lost service even.

Shit.

You blink at your screen for another few seconds, brows furrowing, before whipping your head up to look around your room. Flashes of Tara battered to hell in the hospital and the memory of Sam telling you all about the attempted attack on her at that very same place, mere hours after Tara had been checked in, fill your brain to the brim.

Mind feeling stuffed with static you let out a harsh breath through your nose, hand squeezing hard onto your device, and take a glance out the broken blind in your window to clock that there for sure wasn’t a power outage happening anywhere else but at your house.

So someone was definitely fucking with you.

Fuck, you gotta think.

How the killer even got the dm’s you sent if they weren’t Amber wasn’t a question for now, but how you’d get out of this mess certainly was. With your younger sibling down the hall from you, and your parents still out of the house clubbing, there was only one other person you had to worry about.

Now you just had to figure out how to get to them without tipping off whoever the hell else was also in your house.

Hold on.

You never checked who exactly it was you’d been texting before.

Opening Snapchat, you simultaneously tumble as quietly as possible from your bed, only briefly getting caught up by your blanket tangling around your legs.

When you check you see that, yup, it was Amber’s account (who’s handle was now ridiculously similar to Mindy’s and was only saved on your phone in the first place because Mindy had asked you to send her one of your summer assignments from this year to copy).

Goddamnit.

“Why me?” you whisper; but truly, you should’ve made sure you were talking to the right person if you were going to start making fucking murder accusations.

This shit was on you.

Teeth grinding, you stuff your phone into the pocket of your shorts then start crawling around the floor till you can begin prying open your door. Opening it as far as you know it can go before it starts creaking then inching yourself the rest of the way into the hall.

Sure you had a problem if this wasn’t some elaborate prank — which you doubted, but the possibility was always there considering the kind of assholes you went to school with �� but you couldn’t jump out of your window and just leave your sibling to die.

It’s when your mission is about halfway accomplished, and you’re nearly to your sibling's room, that you hear a creak.

You freeze alongside it. Breathing with your mouth slightly open to minimize the amount of noise you’re making.

Should you just make a run for their room? Should you duck back into yours? Should you shout their name and hope for the best?

In your periphery a flash of white streaks across the dark abyss that is the rest of your house.

Then, you’re only allowed enough time to start the beginnings of a scream before you’re being thrown into the hallway wall, cutoff exclamation choking in your throat and something blunt and heavy slamming into your forehead before you can catalog anything but the sound of fabric billowing in a rush and the feel of hands grabbing at you.

The shout you let out at the second hit is muffled by a gloved hand slapping over your mouth, the impact stinging your face and making your eyes water.

In that same motion your attacker catches you by the hip, hauling, and combined with the force they barreled into you with that’s all they need to make you trip backwards.

You slam into the wall with an ‘oof,’ but your attacker hardly pauses before using their body to flatten yours against the wall and force your wrists together in front of you.

As you’re blinking the spots from your eyes and trying to make out the person in the darkness a metallic click sounds through the air. All you can do is flinch as two icy, metal bands are cinched around your wrists in quick succession and your vision finally adjusts.

The metal locking together pinches at your skin but there’s so much else going on that you don’t even grimace, too busy trying to find your breath after the sight in front of you stole it.

A face. White, screaming in agony, and floating in the shadow like something straight out of Munch’s worst nightmares.

There’s a Ghostface mask less than a foot away from you.

Real and unavoidable and close enough for the starkness to hurt your eyes against the blanket of night all around you.

In Woodsboro it's a familiar sight, whether on the screen during local stabathons and tv edits at home or in costume shops around any one of the many killing spree anniversaries or Halloween.

Up close as it is to you in this scenario, however, it almost doesn’t feel real.

The mask is tilted in a way that feels like the person behind it is examining you; like a dissection. A hand sprouts from the darkness and shifts it back straight over the person’s face, however, and instantly your worry is no longer an assumption.

If you’d thought before that the tilt felt violating, the full force of Ghostface’s direct gaze actually on you feels heavy enough to strip flesh.

Like acid dripping past your throbbing head, over your face, and down the upper half of your body.

From how crooked the mask was you’d guess that’s what hit you, what’s caused the drowning thump thump pounding through your skull and the stinging sensation traveling across your forehead.

The freak had head butted you.

Slow as you can, you shift your head to the side — hoping there isn’t a streak of blood against the wall left in your wake — just enough to press your temple into the cool wall with a groan.

It’s then Ghostface’s head truly tilts and you get to know what the weight of their curiosity really feels like.

The movement itself is silent, but the click of a tongue and the hand that comes up to press over your forehead is not.

At the first touch of covered fingers to your dark skin your blood practically flash-freezes in your veins.

Gritting your teeth against your possible concussion you make a valiant attempt to meld into the wall, but a hand making itself remembered once more on your hip keeps you from fully running away, and the other reaching for you doesn’t relent.

“You’re so pretty like this, Y/n,” Ghostface’s modulated voice says, deep and smooth, as your assailant pushes on the sore area where your temple meets the wall until you turn to face them again; their tongue wrapping possessively around the call of your name without hesitation. “Submitting for me.”

“Jesus,” you whimper, shaking against the insistent feel of their thumb rubbing against the angry vein showing on your temple. “How do you know my—?”

“—Uh uh,” their overbearing timbre cuts in as they pull themselves closer to you, “keep asking questions like that and you’ll ruin the surprise.”

What fucking surprise? Did this asshole plan on dragging this out all night?

Could you figure a way out of this mess by then?

Biting the inside of your lip, you meet the abyss of a gaze in front of you in spite of the chill it sends down your spine. Try to think past the sensation of spiders crawling through your bloodstream that Ghostface’s generous touch elicits.

You swallow, saliva thick past the budding lump in your throat.

“Can you stop?” you force out.

The killer freezes.

You nearly pass out trying to keep yourself from recoiling or apologizing or both by holding your breath before they finally talk again.

“Why? You don’t want me to be concerned?”

Concerned?!

“I don’t,” you say, lips stiff.

What you wanted was to have this over with, not whatever twisted brand of care this Ghostface operated on.

A beat passes where you think they’ll keep pressing, maybe make a point of knocking you again, but then they…stop. Slim hands retreat from your space entirely and down to the killer’s sides.

You doubt their hands will stay still for long, though, and you haven’t thought up how you’re gonna get around them yet — call for your sibling to go get help, maybe?

You cut your eyes at the ghostly specter, at their height and intense focus on you, and remembering the speed they’d ambushed you with earlier you reconsider.

Risking your sibling’s life over a hunch that you already weren’t confident on wasn’t happening. There was no part of you that believed you’d stand a chance at overpowering this Ghostface long enough for no one but you to get hurt.

Something glints in the corner of your eye and you come out of your head with a start. There’s a knife in the killer’s hand now, twisting and twirling around deft fingers before their gaze swings back to you and the blade swings out to lazily point your way.

“Planning?”

“No.”

They laugh, likely not trusting your answer for a moment.

“Fine. Don’t tell me. We can play a game instead.” They pivot once, angling their body towards the door closest, and your heart skips a beat. “I spy with my little eye something that squeaks and creaks and leads to fresh meat.”

And just in case you managed to miss the killer’s meaning, they use the tip of their knife to point towards your sibling’s closed bedroom door twice in a motion too similar to stabbing for your liking.

“What do you think?” they ask, and take a slow deliberate step to the door right afterwards.

“Don’t!”

Lunging across the space Ghostface has made between you, you grab hold of their wrist with trembling hands and bite the proverbial bullet.

The “Please,” comes falling out your mouth like water, and only a tinge of something sour follows it.

Ghostface doesn’t do so much as twitch when they glance back at you, though, shoulders shaking under the cloak.

“‘Please’,” they repeat, roiling laughter clear even through the distortion, “but I thought you didn’t want my concern?”

“I’ll scream,” you counter, pushing past the sinking in your gut to bring your other hand up to form a double clamp around the killer.

Bottomless perpetually gaping eye cutouts stare back at glistening ebony brown eyes for one breath— four, until you yank.

There is no plan when you rush past them, just the sinking feeling that something was going to have to give soon and the knowledge that you’d be damned if it was the person in the room you're running to.

Your hand is on the doorknob, your sibling’s name on the tip of your tongue, when a sound cracks through the air. Your leg buckles, there’s a pressure at the back of your knee, the heat of another body latches onto your back, a hand claps over your mouth, and then you’re tipping over.

Ghostface brings you down with so little fanfare you’d be embarrassed if you had the wherewithal. Wrestles your flailing ass to the floor right in front of the door and keeps you down with their legs pinning your hips.

It’s not until you hit the floor that everything catches up with you.

Heat like you’ve never known screams from the bend of your knee like a piping kettle, and the wail that scratches its way up your throat when you instinctively try to get away by gaining purchase on the tile with your injured leg leaves you shaking into the floor.

With a chuckle your attacker shushes you, gloved hand made wet from your drool and tears patting against your open mouth.

“Shhh.” They shift back and you whimper at the feel of every millimeter of movement that even that small motion forces your foot to make. “You wouldn’t want your little sibling to hear, would you?”

The voice modulator makes the question sound even more taunting and the deep timber of it curls your toes — the twitch making your left leg burn — coming from so close to your ear.

Gloved fingers run along the serrated edges of the hole in your cracked knee where the knife’s still embedded, circling the pounding back of your leg until shivers rack up your body.

The touch is light.

You want to saw your leg off so you never have to deal with even the memory of the feel of it ever again.

“I’d hate to have to deal with them if they come to investigate the strange noises, yeah?” Ghostface says, pausing right afterwards.

It’s a prompt if you’ve ever heard one. They even lift their hand from your leg.

Mind whirling with thoughts of the blood seeping out the sides of your knee to stain the floors and the agony emitting from the stab wound, it takes you a few seconds to answer.

You force your words out past your shaky lips eventually, however. The stuttering agreement tasting like ash on your tongue.

“Good girl,” the modulated voice damn near coos in response, and part of you wishes you’d gotten stabbed through the ears instead.

There’s shuffling from above you, the sounds of fabric slipping over something barely registering over the rushing of blood through your ears.

You’re bleeding—

You’ve been stabbed—

Fuck, your leg is on fire—

Without an ounce of remorse deft fingers press down on where the back of your knees’ been stabbed through again, hand holding tight to the side of your leg, and a whimper falls unbidden past your lips.

Breathy, throaty, feminine laughter sounds right beside your ear as your killer settles over you.

Soft lips brush the shell of your ear and wispy black locks of hair fall into your peripheral.

“I guess it was me after all,” a voice you recognize croons, barren of any modulation.

Holy shit, Mindy had been right.

“A- Amber…?”

Your voice is small where you get it out from between pants for breath, leg throbbing hard enough to cut your focus completely.

Nothing feels real except for the throbbing, not the floor beneath you or the drool running down your chin.

“Mhm,” she giggles, breath ticking the side of your neck and making you shiver. It only takes a second for her to shiver back, breathe against your skin stuttering when she groans and presses down harder on your wound. You mewl and can feel exactly how Amber’s smile spreads. “Aww, just like that, Hun. Now we’re getting to the good part.”

Amber rises up from over you and then relentlessly grabs ahold of your shoulders and has you twist around until your upper body is facing her, and fifty percent of your concentration has to go to keeping your lower body in the opposite direction than the rest of you so you don’t aggravate your knee anymore.

Hair wild and damp with sweat atop her head the smile she gives you is all teeth in the faint moonlight that halos her face.

“Bet you’re reconsidering who you got close to now, huh?”

You grit your teeth, trying and failing to get enough leverage so you can spit in her face.

At the angle she’s forced you into her weight over your hips was more effective than you’d thought, though. Spitting from where you were would only serve in getting you smacked in the face with your own saliva.

“Gah— fuck! It’s not Mindy’s fault you’re a fucking sociopath,” you say behind clenched teeth.

You wonder if your friend would care if you died. Would Mindy cry when your death was announced? Would she immediately suspect Amber again? Confront her?

You’d been the one to comfort her when the news about Tara had come through before Chad could get to you guys. She’d struggled for a few minutes before a few tears had trickled down her cheeks, tears that she’d wiped away with a personal vengeance until you took one of her hands and wove your fingers together. Mindy had given you this wide look you’d never seen before, hazel eyes lost, before finally letting herself sob curled up to your side with her hand in yours. Did you hold that same amount of space in her mind, though?

In her heart?

Amber clicks her tongue, and instantly you’re reminded that whether Mindy and you could’ve ever been more than friends won’t matter anymore. “Wrong answer, Sweetie,” she says, and without another word rips the knife from your body in one pull.

Just barely you manage to stop the scream you want to let out by clamping down on your lower lip, teeth completely bypassing putting an indent into the skin and instead cutting directly through the plush of it as you buck uncontrollably against Amber.

Chest heaving and with tears sprouting in your eyes and beginning to pool, you watch for her next move and are heartbroken to say you aren’t disappointed.

With a flourish she brings the knife up to your face. You watch it with wide shaky eyes, heart sounding louder than your labored breaths in your ears.

The sharp side of the blade runs feather light down the side of your face, her gaze intent on it. On how the silver contrasts with the little streams of blood it leaves in its wake against your dewy brown skin. On how your lashes flutter anxiously, and the muscles in your face twitch beneath her touch.

“I didn’t mean that,” she says softly. She shifts the blade so that she can splay the flat of it over your mouth and purses her lips, eyes glittering and crazed and a little hurt. “I meant that you should’ve picked me, Sweetheart. I like you. And I like that you were thinking about me so much you figured me out. If you had just picked me I would’ve spared you,” she whispers last, face closer to yours now, before leaning in to press a kiss to the other side of the blade over your quivering lips.

The scent of your own blood makes your stomach roil, but the feel of her breath fanning your skin and the ecstatic expression that takes over her face when she leans away to lick her lips forces a sob from you.

Shuddering, you look up at her, a tear finally breaking free to roll down your face.

There is no one to hold you when you break.

Amber giggles, the flash of her teeth bloody.

“Just let me do it,” she whispers, voice low as she moves to run the warm tip of the knife down your side. “Be good for me, be mine this once, and I won’t go into that room and paint those walls red with your sibling’s blood.”

And so you cooperate; biting down into your forearm as muffled cries and wails tear up your throat. Amber plunges the blade deep, hits organs and cracks through bone with low grunts, and each stab feels like a little more of your soul drifting away.

You jolt, she adjusts her weight to accommodate your pained reaction like it’s practiced. You bite down so hard you break skin, teeth sinking into your body and feeling like masochistic relief that at least this pain was your own doing, she leans over to lick around your teeth with a groan. She gives and you take and you don’t scream out loud.

What a perfect victim you’ve made.

The tears never stop flowing from your eyes. So much salt they begin to burn alongside the bite in your arm that’s steadily mixing with blood and snot, and the entire rest of your body that’s near indistinguishable apart from the pain.

Nothing feels real except for the way Amber rides out your death spasms and the never ending stream of pleas to keep yourself silent that have long since turned into a sequenced tune in your head that you’re already forgetting.

As Amber’s honeyed taunts follow you under you know without debate that you have never known pain so intimate as what she’s brought upon you, and nothing so tender as death’s incoming embrace.

At least your younger sibling would be okay.

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!! I tried posting this yesterday, but it wasn’t showing up under any of the tags so I’m trying again. ❤︎

I missed some shit when editing for sure, but I will come back to catch them later. I also don’t know how I feel about the way this flows, but maybe I just need to not look at it for a bit idk.

So the reader-insert may not have actually died here, but I don’t know for sure just yet. I would like for the second part to be a GF!Mindy x Reader-Insert x Jealous!Amber type deal though.

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it!

[applecore6]

cw: use of she/her

“Do you think if we went to high school together we’d be together? Like high school sweethearts?”

“Hm?—” Her head perks up at the sound of his voice before processing the question. “—Oh we did go to high school together.”

“Hah?” Kuroo’s caught off guard by her matter-fact tone—as if it was common knowledge.

“Mhm. You went to Nekoma, right? I do recall hearing about the volleyball team. Weren’t you guys like really good?” She’s being way too nonchalant about this..

“Good is an understatement— What do you mean we went to high school together?”

“I mean we both attended the same educational facility??”

“No I mean, why have you never told me?”

She hums a sound as if saying I don’t know

“I’m not really one to come up to people and say “Hey, I recognize you. Did we go to school together?” that’s just breeding grounds for embarrassment.” She continues tapping on the screen in her hands, playing the mindless mobile game that just finished downloading. “Plus high school was a horrible time for me. I try not to dwell on it.”

“Horrible?” He tries not to pry. Tries.

“Yeah. Horrible.”

They had only been dating a couple months. A group assignment in their biology class marks the first interaction they ever had. He thinks about what she said a little.

“So.. if you hated high school so much, what drew you to me,” he vocalizes.

“The eccentric hairdo,” she replies curtly. “No but— I don’t know I’m not the best with words at the top of my head, but you really.. opened me up(?) not in a weird way. I just would’ve never voluntarily gotten to know a guy like you, but we started—y’know— being with each other a little more, and I thought, woah this guy is not what I expected at all.”

The words coming out of her flow out into the air straight into Kuroo’s brain. He feels the entirety of his face heat up at such a vulnerable confession from her.

“Umm.. back to the original question,” he mumbles out.

“Huh— oh yeah. No I don’t think we would’ve dated in high school. I was waayy too cynical. I probably grouped you with the rest of the jocks. At least now I know you’re a harmless little shit.”

Despite the lighthearted atmosphere, Kuroo couldn’t help but feel a little let down(?).

She hums out a sound at the sight of his face. If he had cat ears they’d definitely be pointed down.

“Hey. What’s with the face, don’t tell me you’re hurt little 17 year old me didn’t wanna date 17 year old Kuroo,” she teases him, but she can’t help the little bubble of pride she felt in her chest.

“I don’t know you’re just, you know, you. You’re really cool, and to be honest I’m kinda-what’s the word- I don’t know like. You’re telling me I could’ve known you even longer, spent even more time with you, maybe even know you a little better.” The words on his mind spilling out his mouth faster than he realizes.

It’s silent. She feels her chest tighten a little, and the feeling drops down to her stomach, spreading throughout her body. If this were a dumb 90s cartoon, she would’ve definitely gone comically red with hearts floating around her head like birds.

“Don’t worry you didn’t miss much—”she pauses thinking of the right way to word what she’s thinking “—I don’t remember much from high school if I’m being honest, but I remember the first time we met, I remember getting to know you, and I remember it felt good. I understood what people meant when they talked about young love, it feels like life before meeting you was kinda blurry, sometimes I forget that I’m a full fledged adult that’s lived years before this.”

It’s buzzing in both his ears. He doesn’t know what to say except—

“I love you, too”

Maybe they didn’t take the first chance they had together, but they’re with each other now. And they know they’ll be with each other tomorrow.

my writing is very bland and dialogue heavy, but i’m trying to get into it which is why im just vomiting into my tumblr drafts rn. forcing myself to write so i can get better T_T. theyre also very dialogue heavy cuz i dont rly have many ppl to yap to so in my head im having yap sessions with these characters.

this is kinda inspired by troy and annie from community with little crumbs of myself. (i fear im projecting myself onto the reader too much, but who cares this is my outlet)

[raconteur-wanpi]

One Piece 1130

Here comes another review / reaction!

Starting with the Yamato cover stories again, it seems whoever is the suspicious kidnapper is also trying to steal Yamato's katana! Or at least, I'm assuming it's the same person. I feel like this means we're going to find out who it is rather soon. Is my bet on Perospero going to be completely and utterly debunked? We'll just wait and see.

Franky and the rest of the strawhats remaining on the giants' ship seem to have decided to call off the search! It's certainly the right decision, because as we'll see later, the rest of the crew is indeed already on Elbaf. It's interesting to see Franky specifically showcasing determination and speaking out the decision, I kinda love it. You have to remember he was the leader of the Franky Family for a long while, nice seeing that element of his again.

The rest of the New Giant Pirates are starting to show up! I remember both Gerd and Goldberg, but getting more dialogue from them is nice, they seem like genuinely charming characters and I love both their designs. They even showed up in Vegapunk's flashback, helping out Saul pick up all the books in Ohara. They seem to not like Rodo very much, which is kinda funny but makes total sense. It's also worth mentioning that apparently, according to Linlin's childhood flashback, Loki, Rodo and Goldberg were all born on the same day, or at least very close to each other! (From chapter 866)

The strawhats unfortunately don't recognize these two, who are certainly their allies, so instead they hide away from them.

This panel of all of them making their escape from Rodo's weird creepy dungeon is pretty cute, I always love seeing the strawhats casually interact. Sanji saying he used to cross a rope bridge like this is very interesting to me, surely there was one in Germa, right?

* Edit: oops, turns out that's Chopper saying it! Big thanks for the corrections in the replies. It's really hard to tell, but that makes more sense, we do see that in Drum Island.

Anyway, Luffy seems to spot something that catches his interest during this walk-away.

Meanwhile, back on the ship with the Giant Warrior Pirates....

Dorry and Broggy have been framed for the Egghead incident by Morgans also! Well, they did go against the government, so it's to be expected. Their bounties increasing to such numbers seems to actually align with real life inflation rates, Oda did his research.

Aaaandd here it is, one of the biggest things in this chapter. Vivi left a message to the strawhats!!!!!!! Being with Morgans, she was obviously able to draw the marking on the photo before it started getting reproduced for publishing. Everyone predicting Vivi joining the strawhats this arc is probably correct, hopefully! Please let it happen. Go get your girl kids!!!!!!

OK, this is the other huge (pun unintended) thing revealed this chapter. More information on Loki and, well.... the revelation Harjudin might be his brother!? They're both the King's sons, right? They both get referred to as princes here, aren't they!?

King Harold is referred to as Loki's father here, so it's safe to assume he was Harjudin's father also. If this is the case, Harjudin going after the Flame Flame Fruit in Dressrosa makes more sense.

Hmm, this narrative is pretty interesting, Loki getting called things like "cursed", "the shame of Elbaf" "not right in the head" etc, it feels like pretty cruel words. Even if he is indeed a horrible and dangerous person, something tells me we're meant to be wary of people being spoken about that way, so it might be a case of the people of Elbaf taking their measures against this guy too far and pushing him into what he eventually turned into.

One Piece loves this narrative, when you have things like Wano's unjust treatment of the Kurozumi Clan or Doflamingo's treatment when he was a child. Yes, Orochi and Doffy did turn out into terrible, horrible people, but the implication of those narratives is that it's the systems that failed them that created those monsters. It's not to feel sympathy towards them or anything, they really don't deserve that at this point, but rather to understand how they were created, and that the people who unwittingly turned them into such dangers were in many ways in the wrong as well. After all, Tama is also a Kurozumi, for example, and Wano needed to get over their treatment of entire clans for the crimes of a few. We even see that with Yamato being hazed for his father being Kaidou in the cover stories, only for Denjiro to scold the younger generation for this behavior. Not to mention, "the shame of Elbaf" does immediately make me think of "the failure of Germa" and such similar things. In fact, if we wanna push that parallel further, Loki being almost married off to the Charlottes' in a similar way, might have in fact been an attempt at "getting rid of the failure" and letting someone else deal with him, rather than an attempt at making amends with Linlin. I do think it's most likely that Loki will be a bad guy, but I think there will also be a narrative on how cruelty breeds more cruelty. Oda's favorite!

And here he is, the "accursed prince". Wow, what a panel! This is such a good drawing in sense of scale and danger. Incredible artistic work. Immediately leaves such a strong impression on who this character is, it's quite the introduction!

[screemnch]

The Pathologic Russian and English analysis: Clara Saburova the Changeling.

Time is a flat circle, similar to a frisbee, and the world is using it to wack me repeatedly on the head with it. So anyway, I finally got my shit together and made another addition to this madness project. This time including images of both English and Russian text. Let us begin

It’s a bit… difficult to pin down what kind of person Clara is in the English translation - partially because you don’t always know for sure which Clara you’re talking to, as well as the fact that she is, most of the time, an obstacle. She seems to shift between “mean child who’s acting like she hasn’t learned about empathy yet”, “kind earnest and trying her best”, and “ominously inhuman and deceiving”. This is, obviously, because of Clara’s main schtick - the fact that there’s two of them (and also because she knows a lot more than the two other healers). Most of the time, however, she comes across as someone with either good or dubious intentions. It’s like she’s trying to help (or acting like she’s trying to help), but things keep going horribly wrong. Since we’re not playing as her, we don’t get nearly as much insight into how frightened she is and how shaky and unstable her current situation is, so she is judged by both of the healers in a very harsh way. She seems a bit verbose for a kid/teenager, however that is nothing out of the ordinary in the town on Gorkhon. Her lines, a lot of the time are either indirect or very direct jabs, so there is an impression that she thinks she is smarter than the other two and is quite fed up with them. It’s difficult to say much else about it without getting into specifics, so here we go.

As the bachelor: Clara only gets interactions on days 3, 6, 11, and 12. You might think that that would make it difficult to write about her, but wow did they put so much stuff in the very few conversations she gets to have with Daniil. There is a level of consistency between how she speaks in English and Russian here, though she seems a bit more earnest in this campaign. Like she’s trying to help, but she also thinks that Dankovsky is unable to receive the help she’s trying to give. Or unwilling. Mainly, however, in Russian there is a very weird quality to her way of speaking that I’m not quite sure carries over well to English. See, (and this is where it gets the tiniest bit anecdotal) I’ve had my fair share of hearing religious talk in Russian (but not in English, which is why I’m not sure if this is even a valid point) - I’ve been to orthodox churches, and in general Christianity is very largely propagated in the part of Russia I grew up in. So I, like presumably many others, am familiar with the very distinct way that religious figures speak. It sounds ancient, but not the same “fairy tale” ancient that I talked about before. Instead of changing the sentence structure, they utilise more biblical words in places where any other person would use regular modern words. Best way I can explain it is how someone might say “t’is” instead of “it is” but like… Religious? “For” instead of “because.” And that is the tone that Clara takes on sometimes. It meshes really well with her “divine messenger” persona, even though she still acts like a child every now and then. It’s a very unique combination that gives her way of speaking a distinct sound that exists outside of time. Overall, however, the translation was pretty close to the original Russian version, so let’s look at where these two diverge.

What’s a little weird to me here is that umm… This is the conversation Daniil has with Clara on day 3 about the Taglur and when I read this in English I was a little confused, because it sounds like the Bachelor is asking a question about Clara’s plans for making a new world or whatevsies, but… This dialogue option is one of those that immediately ends the conversation, which didn’t make sense to me at all. In Russian it’s a bit more akin to “And who’s bright idea was it to place this miracle here?” (or literally “to whose head did the idea to place this miracle here come?” A bit more confusing, but yeah) See, the word here for “miracle” is “чудо” (pronounced smth like “choodo”), which can mean miracle or wonder, but can also be a shorthand for “чудище” or “чудовище” which is a word used to describe monsters. You know. Wonder-creatures. In this context, the word “чудо” when aimed towards a person (Clara) is meant to signify someone either ugly, eccentric or nonsensical. So to sum up, the best way to understand this line is “Who’s bright idea was it to bring this weirdo here?” in which case… Yeah, I can definitely see why that would end the dialogue.

Here’s a fun little thing: I’ve mentioned before how the Haruspex defines Clara in very vague terms. Here, when the Changeling (the real one, guys, trust me) is asking the Bachelor to deal with the Changeling pretending to be her(yeah, go figure), in English she calls her a “loathsome creature”. However, in Russian she calls her (according to Google translate) an “abomination”, “filth” or (in my own translation) “grossness”, which - you guessed it - is indeed a very vague term. Regardless of who you think is talking to the Bachelor at the moment, it’s still very interesting to see, for various reasons. She also does this later in the dialogue (and the English translation ignores it again)

More out of the same dialogue tree where the Bachelor is trying to get Clara’s blood. I’ve made a point in the analysis of the Bachelor from the Changeling’s perspective, where he calls her “darling”  where the original was something like “sweet/dear creature” and almost had a sombre mood to it. In this one, however, it is the complete opposite. Not only does the word he uses here actually translate the best to “darling” (or dove), but it also has the same kind of ironic connotation to it as I mentioned. In this particular scenario he almost sounds… Thuggish? The words he uses, as well as the use of the “-ка” sounds similar to the snarky, confrontational way that thugs and bandits speak in cartoons. Something like “c’mere, dear” that makes it clear you’re about to get beaten up.

Two things here: firstly, in this dialogue line Clara refers to Daniil using the informal version of “you”, while the lines said by the Changeling whose blood he doesn’t get uses the formal version. In the interaction on day 3 Clara doesn’t address him directly at all, but I think in other dialogues she also addresses him informally (It isn’t surprising to see Clara address Daniil of all people informally, because not only does she see herself as, at least in part, a tool of divine whatevertheheck, she also rightfully believes that he is an idiot. She does not need to be polite to the stupidest man this side of the Gorkhon (I say this lovingly, of course).

Secondly though, I’d like to point out the way Daniil talks to her in here, because when I did my analysis of his lines I talked about how the English translation dials down the intensity of the stuff he says. This here is a prime example, as the Russian version is not only more curt, but also uses a much more cutting insult. Of course, people are well aware of the Russian language’s rich curse word vocabulary, but it also has the wonderful capability of making non-curse words sound like the most humiliating thing ever. I think maybe it’s the way Russian combines rolled “r”s and multiple consonants (which is less prominent in English) that allows its words to have that added weight to it. Here he calls her essentially “trash”, specifically - something that’s been so torn up and worn out that it's become useless. The way the word rolls off the tongue when you say it out loud is almost like a spit in the face, and it’s not softened by calling her “little” or anything. He calls her trash. How dare.

I’m bringing this up because it has me genuinely confused? The English version makes sense, or so I thought until I read the Russian version? Because the Russian version kinda states the opposite. It says “You can’t come up with a better knife for this than a conversation - of course, only if you’re in a hurry.” Which is very different from “unless you’re in a hurry” because those meanings are like… The opposite? The English implying that a conversation is a good way to see what’s going on in her soul, but the Russian one alluding to the fact that it’s only good if you’re in a hurry? Or is she agreeing to give her blood because they don’t have time for a conversation? I don’t know. I’m confused. Help.

I think the metanarratives of pathologic are very cool, so when I read this line in English I got really excited, because I thought it might be implying that Clara is aware of the fact that the player may have died a few times during the bachelor route alone (similar to how she calls the other healers her past or future). Then I realised that it simply could’ve meant “dying” as in being close to death. Then I got excited again, because I thought the Russian version might elucidate the issue for me. And… I think I was right? I think she implies here that Daniil has died several times, although it was probably just left vague for this specific purpose. Either way, the fact that it can be read this way and was probably worded like this just to confuse the players (and reward those who may have been on the lookout for it) is really cool to me. Also in response to that (where in English Daniil says Clara has “a shrewd eye for human condition”) he calls her a psychologist, and then brushes her off as trying to charm him, which means we don’t get to gauge the meaning of what she was saying through his response either.

This one has a couple of fun differences. Firstly, instead of referring to the town in its “true form” Clara refers to saving it “the way that the town turned out.” This, to me, is a slight difference that paints the contradictory nature of the town in a different light. The English version claiming that it’s the town’s “true” form almost makes it seem like a design from an outside force, both bringing up vibes of intelligent design and the fact that the town was made this exact way by the children. The Russian version’s implication that the town “turned out” this way has a more “nature is a chaotic force with no purpose” vibe to it, that would more suit a person unaware of the whole “we’re dolls for a children’s game inside of a video game” thing. Maybe I’ve just gotten used to being picky about the tiniest word choices because of my studies, but I feel like this difference changes the overall vibe. Like painting with the same colour but using a different brush.

Secondly, in Russian Clara calls Aglaya’s mission “simply a performance for fools” which to me is a wonderful choice of words, given all the theatre themes included in the gameplay.

I’ve kind of set a precedent where I make all of these “translation differences” have some sort of significant meaning for the narrative, but I just think this one is genuinely cool? It’s a bit of a “same colour, different brush” situation, where the sentiment is the same, but the word choice carries a different vibe. Focusing on the last sentence here, the Changeling specifically says “You were supposed to bribe him with your honesty” instead of “get at him”. And I just think that’s neat, because like. I always thought of “getting at someone” as like… An attack or provocation? But “bribing” someone has a bit more of that slimy vibe, which clashes with “honesty” so well, and… I guess it’d technically be an oxymoron.

During the conversation in regards to Clara acknowledging Maria as a mistress, in the Russian version she frequently switches between formal and informal “yous” when talking to the Bachelor. However, as it becomes clear here, this is an instance in which instead of a sign of respect, it seems that she is referring to several people at the same time. Namely, that she is directing her words both at Daniil and Artemy. During the Bachelor’s campaign she seems to think that the Haruspex is a lost cause and they seemingly don’t interact (and she even believes that he is dead during this day), so I doubt she actually ever spoke to him about this. It’s interesting then that she still tries to convince the Bachelor, even though she often calls him a fool. Makes you wonder what the differences are between this scenario and the Changeling campaign (in which she can invite Artemy to the Cathedral on the final day fully knowing that he chooses to stay oblivious).

Here’s some silly Clara on day 12 (right after giving a whole speech about the Polyhedron) and I just wanted to point out this very fun change. Instead of saying “pretty face” she instead says “мордашка” (pronounced “mordashka”)  which is a diminutive of “морда” (“morda) which is usually the word people use to refer to an animal’s face. Except it can also be used to refer to a person’s face if you’re calling them ugly. The addition of the diminutive adds a little mischievous tone to it, which turns it from ugly into a “cute” kind of thing. Like… Derpy, I guess. Anyways, I think it’s absolutely hilarious that Clara says that while also talking about the eldritch concept of being a multitude of people, or perhaps just one person controlled by the will of different people at different times (which they all are, by the way).

Big difference here that I found absolutely odd as in why they cut it out of the English version? This is from the “did you know we are toys?” dialogue tree and if you look carefully, you’ll see that there’s a bit here in Russian that for some reason wasn’t included in the English version. The last sentence after Clara says that she has an advantage. She adds “and I intend to use it.” Which like… I feel to someone who hasn’t played patho before would sound antagonistic, but to those who know - this is a direct indication to how it feels like playing as Clara in the campaign. You know a lot more about the game and the characters from other campaigns. And you already know that the kids are there and that they are toys. While playing you use all this knowledge to your advantage to play the game better. So yeah, don’t know why they cut that out of the translation.

Alright, I think that’s about all I’ve got for Clara’s role in the Bachelor’s campaign. I’d say the biggest differences that I notice is, of course, the biblical language (which I didn’t get good examples of unfortunately, but the whole “your eyes are white for you are blind” is a good example) and the subtle ways in which the words Clara uses hint to her knowledge of what is going on. As always, it’s something that’s also present in the English version, but there are also things that are characteristic to the Russian language that allow her to break the fourth wall. Like, with the change to a formal “you” we can get a bit more clarity on whether the Clara we’re talking to is real or not. With the specific verbs she uses we can almost see the outline of a false bottom to everything she says and I think that’s really cool. Outside of the translations, I think it is genuinely fascinating to get a better glimpse into Clara’s story during the Bachelor campaign - I feel like if we got more of her, it would give the whole game away. In what she says already, talking about the wills behind her, behind the Bachelor (although she does count Artemy as part of the “special toys” camp, she always says it with such disappointment. Cuz she compares herself to him, but is also frustrated that he refuses to get it) she alludes to being aware of not only the stagehands, but also the player and the power that they have. It’s also really cool because you can almost compare her to Aglaya, what with all the knowledge, sacrifice, and being doomed by the narrative. Except Clara’s approach is entirely different, although it’s difficult to glimpse through her frequently changing attitude. They both know “the Law”, both talk about how miracles should not be captured - except Aglaya seeks to undo what has been done, while Clara wants to forge ahead, accept the changes as part of the world. They both seek to fix what’s wrong, but what to them is considered “fixing” is so directly opposed that they have to destroy each other. I don’t know. I just think that both of them are really cool characters that totally don’t make me wanna scream, cry, and throw up, and you know… They deserve just as much love and obsessive analysis as the men in the story (speaking of which, in one of the dialogue trees where Clara talks about Block essentially becoming a crusader she can also admit that she knows it’s not true and that he’s also doomed, but she feels so bad about it that she pretends that he isn’t. And who knows, with a miracle worker like her it might just become the truth).

Also I'm thinking of maybe at one point or another making a name pronunciation, meaning, nickname, and literary references guide? Idk, sounds like it'd be fun.

I feel like a weird little bog creature whenever I emerge with one of these. Have fun and remember to engage your critical thinking skills, fact check, and let the media you encounter change you (be it through vulnerability or empowerment) instead of just being fodder for your consumption.

[ichinose-kazuma]

I got nothing against the NINE messages part of t9 but I kinda wish it was better... As in make the characters type the way that most people do, instead of just giving off feeling that they might as well just stand in a room together and talk directly because the messages are all identical to any other kind of dialogue. They even write s-stammering in them or use "...!" whenever they get cut off or something, are we even sure it's not a voice chat. But what I actually care slightly more about than that is to just, give them different typing styles corresponding to their character. That'll actually be really cool and would make the NINE chat different from just regular cutscenes. Alright now onto the post. Yo doesn't use punctuation marks he will never end a sentence with a period. Saigo types extremely slowly like a grandpa and keeps using ridiculous amounts of periods like this.............. Though this actually has basis in the game since I remember that some texts there kinda alluded to it but not gonna check. Q on the other hand types like a 40 year old father of two despite being like in his twenties or something. Miu is typing for an extremely long amount of time with occassional pauses to ponder her wording before deleting the whole message and just saying "ok". Gotanda and Oi canonically types in the most formal way possible like they're writing a business email. Hyakuichitaro responds, "that's so sigma". Tsuruko points out all your typos. Jio types only horrible disgusting things. Tsuki regularly keysmashes. Enoki's caps lock broke apparently cause why else would she keep screaming, attempts to bond with Hyakuichitaro over incomprehensible slang but they both got like way opposite ends of this spectrum. If Sui didn't go fuck himself he would say "LOL check out this funny video I found" and it's gore. Kazuki usually only types in lowercase and has a suspiciously large collection of weird reaction images that he uses whenever he doesn't have to that all look like this

[dangerouscommiesubversive]

and found - more outtakes

I'm in a fic-posting mood, I just put up two proper actual story things, so here I am rounding it off with some more cut content from "and found"--in this case, the scene wherein Xiangyi actually meets the Word of Honor and Lord Seventh guys. It's a good scene, and I like it a lot, but in the end it kind of slowed the story down in a bad way? Which makes it perfect for a post like this. It has an alternate opening to the section of Chapter 9 where they travel to China, Wen Kexing's pink dress ("it's just like the clothes I wore when I was young, I don't see why people have to be weird about it now"), and Zishu's ducklings.

Past the actual scene-and-a-half here there's a little bit of dialogue for the ducklings which didn't make it in even more than the scene itself, and also another goofy interview thing like there was in the first outtake post.

***

Fang Duobing's weird friends

After all of his nerves, it’s deeply funny to Xiangyi that the first thing he notices about Fang Duobing’s weird friends is the pink dress.

They get to Beijing in the middle of October, a week and a half before their lunch date, and spend most of the first few days alternating between doing every tourist thing that Xiangyi expresses even vague interest in and desperately trying to avoid Fang Duobing’s housekeeper as they have sex in basically every room of the house that isn’t the apartment where she and her family live. The one time she does catch them at it, she just rolls her eyes, but she’s in her sixties and reminds Xiangyi uncomfortably of Yuze’s mom, so it kills the mood for him anyway.

Finally, though, they’re approaching the restaurant where Fang Duobing’s friends are supposed to meet them, and when they’re about a block away Huli Jing starts yelling, which prompts someone in the outdoor seating area to spot them and start waving and swatting their table companion on the shoulder. At first Xiangyi thinks whoever it is decided to come out in full hanfu, but as he gets closer he realizes that it’s not that at all, but an ankle-length pink dress that looks like it came straight from the 1970s, with a deep v-neck and massive bell sleeves. As they approach, the person in the pink dress moves away from their table, so gracefully that they’re practically floating, and says, “Fang Xiaobao, you never visit us–you cut your hair.”

Fang Duobing laughs awkwardly. “It got to be difficult to manage with all the traveling I was doing.”

“What would your mother think–wait, is that a duckling? Do you have a duckling? Since when?”

The other person at the table rolls his eyes. “Lao Wen, that’s not a student, that’s his boyfriend.”

“Wait, is it? How do you know?”

“Because they’re holding hands.”

“But he brought his horrible gangster with him! Speaking of which, Lao Di, it’s wonderful to see you again, thank you for coming!”

Di Feisheng huffs irritably and doesn’t reply, to the man in pink’s apparent delight. Fang Duobing elbows him and murmurs, “You know he only calls you that because he likes you, right?” and gets a mouth twitch and an eye roll in response.

Meanwhile, the seated man is saying, “Well, maybe they’re both dating him, Lao Wen, you could just ask like a normal person.” Then, with a slight turn, “Hello, dog, good to see you again,” as Huli Jing snuffles at his hand.

“I’m not a normal person, I don’t see why I should act like one.”

Xiangyi is trying to figure out whether it would be offensive to start laughing at them when Fang Duobing finally steps forward and says, “Hi, Kexing, it’s good to see you too. How’s the mountain?”

More expansive gesturing, accentuated by the whirl of pink sleeves. “Awful, thank you for asking, Fang Xiaobao, this global warming thing is ridiculous. We’re considering having a walk-in freezer installed and moving our bed into it. So is that a duckling or a boyfriend? And either way, what’s his name?”

#

There's a whirlwind of introductions, in which among other things it's established that Xiangyi is perfectly capable of being two things, thank you, and by the time those are all finished Xiangyi finds himself sitting at the table between Di Feisheng and Fang Duobing's other friend, Zhou Zishu, and feeling slightly lost. He doesn't feel unwelcome, but there's a degree of connection that everyone else has by dint of being so, so old that just isn't available to him, especially given that he doesn't feel like going into the whole reincarnation issue. He almost wishes that he were at the next table over where Zishu’s students are sitting, Mingming from the letter and her large, shy girlfriend A-Qian, but then again, he’s afraid that he doesn’t have much in common with them either, and he likes being able to lean against Di Feisheng’s side a bit. And then two more people show up, other immortal friends of Kexing and Zishu but not his guys, and there are more introductions, and as one of the new guys and Di Feisheng and Zishu are dissolving into an argument about assassination methods the other new guy looks directly at Xiangyi and says, suddenly, “Can we speak privately for a few minutes?”

This is so far from what Xiangyi was expecting that it takes him a moment to reply. “...sure?”

Confused, he lets New Guy–Beiyuan, his name is Beiyuan–lead him away from the others to an unoccupied portion of the seating area, where Beiyuan stares into the air for a moment before saying, “So it’s been a very long time, unsurprisingly, but I recall reading a book when I was young that referenced a Li Xiangyi, the founder of Sigu Sect, who died approximately two hundred years before I was born. Is that you, or is it just a strange coincidence of names?”

“Uh…” Xiangyi shakes himself. “Yes and no? Like, I’m twenty-three, but I’m also him. I was him. He was him, he died, now he’s me, I’m a different guy but we’re the same guy, it’s a whole–”

“--really confusing reincarnation thing?”

“Wait, did you do the same thing?”

“No, mine’s more confusing, I reincarnated as myself. Which is to say, the exact same person that I was before, but different, because now I was me.”

Xiangyi can feel another one of those headaches coming on as he says, “What,” but it’s immediately overtaken by a surge of relief as he follows that with, “Don’t answer that, I don’t need an explanation, does this shit happen a lot?”

Beiyuan grins at him. “No, just occasionally, and it’s different every time, which makes it even more confusing.”

“I hate that.”

“So do I! Except that it let me meet Wu Xi and not get tortured to death and everything, so really it’s fine. You just looked slightly lost in a way that felt familiar, and then I heard the name and it rang a bell, and I thought maybe you’d want someone to talk to who’s dealt with similar bullshit.”

Xiangyi thought about it, nodded, and said, solemnly, “I’m going to text Yuze right now to let him know he’s been bumped to third best friend because of his lack of understanding of reincarnation bullshit.”

“Third best?”

“The dog is first. Obviously.”

“Oh, right, of course.”

“So we should probably get back to the table before someone notices we’re over here and starts–” but before Xiangyi can finish his sentence he freezes, as Beiyuan’s shirt rustles and then a beady-eyed face pokes out from his collar. “–do you have a tiny, adorable ferret in your shirt?”

Beiyuan blinks. “I guess she just woke up, she must like how you smell if she’s coming out in public like this. She’s not a ferret, she’s a sable, my husband breeds them. Her name is Arsenic.”

“Ok. Ok. Ok. Vitally important follow-up question. Can I hold her please.”

Arsenic answers this herself by climbing the rest of the way out of Beiyuan’s shirt and making a short hop onto Xiangyi’s shoulder as Beiyuan says, warily, “Please be careful, she’s venomous.”

“Lao Wen, don’t be ridiculous, I was teaching basics to my juniors when I was fourteen. Just because we’re eight hundred years old doesn’t mean everyone else is children.” Zishu glances at Xiangyi, who snaps back to the conversation with a start. “Right? Am I allowed to ask how old you are?”

They don’t get back to everyone else until several minutes later, when Kexing finally turns around to shout, “Beiyuan, if you’re trying to steal Xiaobao’s duckling at least half of the table is going to be very upset with you.”

--

(and then a bit that was theoretically going to be later in the scene)

--

“–really? But he seems like he’s so young to be teaching.”

Xiangyi blinks. “Twenty-three. Uh, mostly. It’s, it’s complicated. Anyway, I only teach little kids and teenagers, my buddy Yuze’s got most of my classes while we’re here.”

Wen Kexing nods thoughtfully. “All right, true, I’ll concede that I have a slightly skewed view of age. Your accent is interesting, where are you from?”

“Los Angeles.”

“Los–where’s that, A-Xu, I forget that one.”

“The USA?” At Wen Kexing’s still-slightly-blank look, Xiangyi frowns a bit, struggling for further distinctions. “West coast of North America, across the ocean to the east of here.”

***

ducklings

Xiangyi grins. "That's great, though! So how'd you two meet?"

Mingming glances at A-Qian and takes a long sip of iced coffee before saying, "She's attracted to violent women."

A-Qian laughs. "I mean, sort of? We met when I was going to university, she was already studying with shizun, she's been living with them since she was little. Anyway, I'd gone out to lunch so I could work on a paper, it was at an outdoor cafe a lot like this one, and there was this big fuss, and I look up and see the most beautiful woman on Earth completely wrecking a couple of guys who were half a meter taller than she was."

"They were being creepy at a street musician." Mingming makes a face and has another sip of coffee. "You shouldn't talk to girls that way. And they weren't that much bigger than me, come on. Anyway, I finish that up, I turn around to grab my bag that I'd dropped, and there's this--she looked really different at the time."

"You can say, it's fine--this was pre-HRT, and I had a really bad haircut."

"Yeah, and she was just staring at me, and I was already a little bit pissed off, so I said, 'do you have a problem with me?' and she said--"

"Can I buy you lunch?"

"And we've been together for six years now."

***

“Ok, so, we talked about tech, so now we’ve gotta talk about art, what's your favorite artist or piece of art from…I guess past the end of your original human lifespan?”

Fang Duobing: “Oh, I think Godzilla. The character, not just the original movie, although the original movie is very good.” (“You…can’t watch Godzilla movies, though?”) “I can watch Godzilla movies, I just have to be in the right mood for them.” (“...which is?”) “Well, I suppose you or A-Fei would also need to be in the right mood to put up with me intermittently crying for about an hour and a half.”

Di Feisheng: “I like Miike Takashi movies.” (“Ooh, which one's your favorite? Is it Ichi the Killer?”) “Diamonds Are Unbreakable was good.” (long pause, followed by unholy screech from Xiangyi)

Wen Kexing: “Oh! Good question! Taylor Swift. I love Taylor Swift.” (“Don't get him fucking started on Taylor Swift.”) “Hush, A-Xu, she's so cute, and as your insane wife I think I have a right to enjoy the work of someone else's insane wife. Especially ‘Blank Space,’ that's my favorite.” (“I could have made her into an amazing assassin.”) “Right, there's also that, she's got those big soulless eyes, I could have introduced her to Xie Wang.” (Xiangyi: “I’m sorry, you knew someone called the Scorpion Prince?”) “Well, I think legally his name was Zhao Xie’er, but most people addressed him as Xie Wang, yes. Anyway, I would have loved to introduce him to Taylor, I think they’d deserve each other.”

Zhou Zishu: “I like comics.” (“...any specific comics?”) “The Adventures of Tin-Tin.”

Jing Beiyuan: “I enjoyed reading Journey to the West when it was first published.” (“Wait, it wasn't…already out when you were alive?”) “No, that was Ming Dynasty, we predate that. Don Quixote was published not long after, that was also very fun. And I enjoy Doctor Who, the Seventh Doctor especially.”

Wu Xi: *has not put down his copy of The Three-Body Problem* “What was the question?” (“He reads a lot of science fiction. He also really enjoyed that novel Guardian, they made it into a TV show a few years ago?”)

Orlando: “I’ve enjoyed watching the development of romantic comedy as a genre, it's fascinating sometimes how little it's changed from when I was growing up.” (“What was your favorite from then?”) “Twelfth Night. I saw a number of Shakespeare's plays performed, but that one I liked best.” (“Ok, so what do you think holds up best against that from more recent centuries?”) “Oh, there was that one film with Ewan McGregor…right, yes, Down With Love. I enjoyed that one.”

Kenzaki Kazuma: “I haven't passed a normal human lifespan yet, ask me again in two hundred years if the world hasn't ended by then.”

Kurenai Gai: “I’m not sure you realize how long I’ve lived, it's kind of hard to pick one thing.” (“Come on, man, just give it a shot?”)

Hob Gadling: “Impossible to pick, there's been a lot of good art since I was first around. Honestly I just like that there’re cheap paperbacks now, it's so much easier to get a book to read at all.”

Wen Ning: “Oh, I really liked Land of the Dead, the George Romero movie? Train to Busan was also really good. Um, Shaun of the Dead was great…I like zombie movies.” (“Wait, seriously?”) “Well, they're always having a much worse time then I ever did, and a lot of them are very funny.”

Song Lan: [ i read a lot of webnovels. very much enjoyed omniscient reader’s viewpoint. young writers these days are incredibly creative. ]

[thanatologie]

i guess it's just my life now that Deep Thoughts About Emmrich™️are some of the first things to brain worm me after regaining consciousness (waking up), but hear me out okay-

emmrich has, really, four - no, sorry, five - paths his story can take, right.

mortal and romanced

mortal and unromanced

mortal and dead

lich and unromanced

lich and romanced

it's the first and last two i really wanna talk about, and mostly the last, but let's consider:

the implication is, i think, when you choose to romance emmrich, it's an in it to win it kind of romance. it, more than the age gap, is why harding brings up how fast he and rook are moving (i'm sorry i love her and calling her lace is going to forever feel weird, forgive me), she gets that he's in deeper probably than intended, way faster than intended. like lich or mortal, it doesn't matter, it's very much implied rook becomes his Person™️in a way, say, an unromanced emmrich going out with strife doesn't have happen. that's just a date. but as a romanced emmrich progresses through the story, after the big fight he and rook have, after they kiss and make up post-fade prison and leading up to the last push for elgar'nan, there's a chance to have an interesting piece of dialogue with him where he talks about how he has so many plans he wants to share and talk about once everything's over and they're back home.

i don't think it's a stretch to assume where those plans lead, is what i'm saying, right. like...maybe more so than another of the other companions, emmrich finds his soulmate with rook. guy's just been handed everything he's ever longed for on a silver platter, especially in the mortal and romanced path, because he has manfred, and he has rook, and that's it. he's gotten his family. and i'd be lying to you if i didn't say he was probably terrified going into that last fight, because he could lose it again, just that quick, either by his death, by rook's, by something happening to manfred.

but this ain't about him.

where it really has interesting implications - and by interesting i mean horrible - is if emmrich's gone the lich and romanced path. because the tone changes in...a lot of stuff. the fight is different, because while both boil down to his fear of losing rook - which i will argue is actually greater than his fear of dying himself - a lich emmrich is very much kind of...overbearing? in a way? trying to get rook to hang back because now he's no longer as easy to kill (and i don't even know if kill is the right word there, either for me to use or emmrich, destroy might be more accurate). it's no longer an issue of his fear of death - if they've been all aboard the bone express with a lich emmrich, it's now all about rook. losing rook. how he's now afraid he'll mourn rook forever. and now he no longer has manfred.

so, my thought on this is - and not to make it dramatic, because emmrich's got enough of that nonsense for the both of us, dude just feels things incredibly deeply and 0/10 shows it - romanced and liched out is the worst possible ending for him. worse than a mortal him dying in the battle - that's quick, it's over in the blink of an eye. a lich emmrich...sure, he's got someone that loves him no matter what, that's nice. who supported his choice in becoming something more. but he has immediate buyer's remorse about that decision, because for all his talk about keeping rook safe, etc etc, the truth is, he's going to end up mourning them forever regardless. he's still lost manfred, and it clearly hits him harder than i think he would like people to think. i think the crushing weight of the certainty that, no matter what, he's going to lose rook regardless also comes crashing down on him.

all ground i've stomped on before, i know. but consider the implications of that. people like rook - heroes, is what i mean, i've got a lot of experience with heroes - don't die easy in their beds, you know? some people can settle down after something like this and live a quiet life forever after, but those types are going to be rare, because the types of people who answer the call to be a hero can't leave shit alone once they've been bitten. they see trouble and run toward it.

i think....a romanced lich emmrich goes bad. i don't mean a mwoo ha ha kind of bad, i don't mean...i don't know...a corypheus kind of bad (is that even going bad, though, considering- you know what, never mind). i think all those oaths he's taken as a watcher, and all those he probably had to take as a lich lord go out the window. i think there would be a lot of line crossing. a lot of big flashing no nos. mostly because no, i don't think emmrich is equipped for eternity. i don't think he can handle others passing through death when he can't. he might get, hell, forty+ years with rook, but what's a handful of decades with the love of your life when eternity stretches like a yawning void without them in front of you, right?

what that looks like, i don't really know. does he do what others have done before him and try to bring them back from wherever they go after death? i don't know, maybe. he's a necromancer, play to your strengths, i guess. whatever it looks like, i do think there's a distinct possibility for him to get pushed over some edge. like...it's hard to imagine, i guess, because he's so damn kind, but he's also not built for what he's asking himself to do, and i think instead of his (trauma-induced anxiety disorder) fear of death very quickly could become replaced by an all-consuming dread for the inevitable which could take him down some very, very dark roads.

[martianbugsbunny]

In all the videos I've watched about the modern character structure of Disney princesses, I've seen people say that Rapunzel, Anna, Moana, Asha, Raya, Sisu, and Mirabel are generally very samey characters in terms of personality traits and movement styles. But I have yet to see someone say that in Frozen 2, Elsa took on some of those traits, and my horribly capped evidence is under the cut.

Alright, to start with, let me explain a little bit more. Elsa in her debut movie is very restricted and repressed, that's true, but she's also by nature elegant and graceful. Once she figures herself out a little bit more, and she's comfortable in her skin, these aspects of her don't go away, in fact I think they're enhanced by her new confidence and self-assurance. Anna, by contrast, is clumsy and a little awkward, and that's not all down to her upbringing, either. It's who she is, and the contrast between them makes both of their personalities pop. It also makes them realistic, because in human beings and in sisters, you will not have two people who are identical in nature.

However, in the second Frozen movie, Elsa moves and gestures more like Anna. More like the new cookie cutter of the awkward (I hesitate to say "adorkable" because I'm utterly sick of the word at this point, but it's kind of apt) Disney girl.

This is the worst cap I have but watch this little scene where Elsa is startled and her powers activate is one of thee most egregious examples. The entire sequence of movements she has here feels completely detached from her; it's more like the way Anna would move than the way Elsa would move.

This. this is from the scene where she tells Anna she woke the spirits and decides to go to the forest. There is no universe in which the woman from the first Frozen movie would make these faces.

These are from the scene in Ahtohallan where she's watching her past. The cringe, once again, in the way it's animated, feels incredibly alien to her character. The little dance and the facial expressions when she comes across ice!Weaselton are incredibly Rapunzel, I think, but not very Elsa.

This one is the least offender in the bunch. But I still think in this particular scene, where she's doing the typical-of-modern-Disney thing where she's talking to the cute animal friend made to sell plushies, she doesn't feel quite right. The whole "they're all staring at us, aren't they" bit of dialogue contributes to the off-ness of the scene.

Now, allow me to present exhibit B: some of the expressions that I'm comparing her to.

You can see how similar they are, right? All of these to each other but also to the caps of Elsa? It's become the new style to just have all the characters making these faces. It's weird to see it all on them (particularly when it makes no sense for Raya, Asha, and Moana, but that's besides the point) and it's even weirder to see it on Elsa, a character who did not originate with this trait.

Here are a couple of caps of Elsa from Frozen. Her facial expressions are distinct from Anna's, because they have different personalities and would express their emotions physically in different ways. Elsa has a reserved grace and a boundless joy by the end of the movie and it shows through in the way she smiles, the way she frowns, the way she moves. Who she is, is indicated by her movements, which is an individual being and not a standard model.

Now, I'm not dunking on any of the other princesses listed here. I love most of them. I'm emotionally invested in their stories and I cry during their songs and I spend hours sketching them. But do I think I could love them just a little more if they each moved a little differently and their cores were expressed in their physicalities? Yes, I do. I also think it might force Disney to develop their individual personalities better if they weren't just falling back on standardized traits, because more specifics in one department might lead to more in others.

Anyway, that was my little thesis....kay bye.

[tsukkilody]

This is for clautsukki!!!

Funniest Kiss Memory

What are your contact names for each other?

What games do you play together?

What are your inside jokes?

funniest kiss memory

we were staying at his family house for a couple of days , we were in the middle of heated make out season on his bed when suddenly his mom knocked on the door and we both jumped and tried to look as normal as possible, when she entered she asked what we wanted for dinner but when she looked at us she seemed like trying not to laugh, well at least that's how i interpreted it, i couldn't see very well... oh? ... i eyed Kei and i could see how he was squinting as well. We replied quickly and when she left we looked at each other registering how our glasses were all foggy and nasty and we didn't even notice giving us away... (,,>ࡇ<,,)

what are your contact names for each other ?

already answered here ᯓ★

what games do you play together ?

when playing minecraft he's one of those people who's really into redstone so he starts making farms and automating everything so quickly we get bored fast and start another server from scratch, we added a dinosaur mod and he was so happy about it that I started teasing him about how he's got the look of a little kid full of joy and he said something like "Shut up. Let me enjoy this one thing in peace." not actually mad just a little embarrassed teehee but i just complied cause i love to see him happy.

with stardew valley we are pretty chill and have a farm in year 7, he's more focused on getting the 100% completely and eventually i want that too but I'm more into making the farm look pretty and getting us fat money. Sometimes he starts fake arguments about how I'm always flirting with Sebastian, I don't really have anything to comeback with since he's right...

we also play those choices affect the story horror games like until dawn, he locks tf in and tries to think about all the possibilities and I panic bc I feel like we are running out of time so end up choosing whatever, he argues that he has everything under control and I argue back on how he takes too long and it's giving me anxiety. why horror in particular? well i do hc that he likes horror maybe I'm projecting oops

keep us away from more competitive or pvp games cause I literally transform into a horrible person...i can't take a loss, so when I don't win i start cursing at everything and everyone, i actually can get so mad that's not fun anymore. but when i do win it's like a fucking adrenaline rush and i get so cheeky it's so annoying. I'm not joking it's quite horrible, not for him tho, he enjoys it like it's his favorite show, this is the only time he gets to see me being so mean, he teases the fuck out of me making the situation way worse and I get so defensive seeing that smug smirk on his face that I want to slap it off. If i get too mean I feel very bad and embarrassed afterwards and he tells me that it's okay,he knows I'm not serious and he likes this side of me even if it's bad. Other times the tension of the situation has us reconciling in a more heated and intimate way.... ;)

what are your inside jokes ?

I have a weird sense of humor, it's very random and absurd. We were watching a movie and I repeated some dialogue but changed it slightly to make it more random and he looked at me like 'wtf' which made me giggle, it wasn't that funny at that moment but then the next day I randomly said it again out of nowhere and he snorted a laugh, then later at the most perfect unexpected moment he repeated the same words making me almost die of laughter and it's like three words that don't make any sense. so now we randomly say that and crack ourselves up. this is really hard to explain i could think about something better and more specific !!!

[dailyanarchistposts]

Do you worry that you validated and perhaps encouraged the irrationally violent desires of the school shooter who called your radio show through your shared desire for de-industrialisation?

Ishkah: You talk a lot about school shootings on your show and it’s such a horrific thing and it’s a sign of atomization, and culture being fragmented.

You had a weird case of someone phoning your radio show who years later committed a school shooting. And there was a CNN piece… [8]

Zerzan: Adam Lanza, yeah that was pretty incredible. He acted out the very thing that he was trying to raise awareness about, the chimpanzee attacked its owner in a very horrible way and you know he said that’s us, we’re forced into these impossible unnatural ways of being and people are gonna snap, like the chimpanzee and then he snapped. I mean talk about incredible irony there.

Ishkah: Yeah, I mean it’s a really difficult one, have you thought about how you maybe would have handled it if you had the amazing foresight of interpreting what he meant or what his state of mind was.

Zerzan: Well that would have been really nice, but he struck my co-host as kind of a quiet troubled high school kid, but picking up on on the reality of life in late civilization and how bizarre it is and the pressures one’s under.

We both said yeah exactly, thanks for the call, I mean it certainly did not occur to us that he was part of the very thing he was warning about and I guess that was about a year later that that happened. That would have been awfully nice, but we didn’t, we thought that that’s quite a good insight, that’s quite a good parallel that you’re making and you know that was it, there wasn’t any dialogue, we didn’t even… he was just trying to bring out that point and bothered to call and yeah, ‘thanks for the call’ and that was that.

If only we could have or seen that he was actually going in that very direction, it would have been nice, we could have tried to do something, tried to engage him in terms of where he was at, with how his life was, in his own life.

Ishkah: Yeah and I mean I know primitivists in my own life and I know a lot of them get a lot of value from it, when they get into the philosophy and they start an allotment and they feel more connected to the earth and all the stuff and maybe work on a food no bombs stall and stuff, they’re often very much part of campaigns on the left.

But, saying all that, I’m not a primitive so I know that if if I’d had that call I might have tried to challenge him a little bit on domestication and how inevitable violence is, even if you feel pushed to an extent through bullying in school or something, like whether I don’t know… I guess my fumbling over my words now shows that it’s hard and I wouldn’t necessarily have the perfect words to say, but I don’t know, I wonder if there wasn’t someone he could find with a shared philosophy of de-industralisation and he’d phoned up someone who had challenged him a bit, that it could have been a turning point.

Like with the CNN piece, the doctor of criminology they had on at the end said:

“the subtext of what he’s [the school shooter is] saying is violence is innate and instinctual to humans, and really should not be punished because it’s their natural basis, that’s the message I think he’s trying to get across, and the parallel to himself is obvious, he feels possessed by this need, this compulsion to commit violence.”

So do you agree with that? Do you think that he was saying something like that or…?

Zerzan: It sounds very, very off base, that people are innately homicidal, is that what he’s saying?

Ishkah: Well, I think the criminologist was saying that Lanza was bringing up the story because maybe he felt those impulses within himself because of domestication, because of like bullying at school, and so if there wasn’t domestication, it wouldn’t have happened to him, so then his violence is justified in some way.

Zerzan: Well yeah, that seemed to be the lesson of what he phoned the show about, you know that’s what you get, that’s why this chimpanzee freaked out and attacked its owner, I mean precisely because of the domestication control, the so unnatural and painful, and it just caused the animal to snap. And you know he was saying of course that corresponds to the situation in society, it’s so unbearable really and I bet there was quite possibly bullying in the picture. There have been other cases of mass shootings where there was in fact bullying and then that’s part of the you know the onerous life that somebody’s living and they… it’s intolerable so yeah…

Ishkah: I mean still I would have liked to try to challenge him or challenge anyone who talked about violence as somewhat inevitable, I would have tried to say it’s not acceptable the way schools are structured at the moment, the way bullying is allowed to happen, and the way we are domesticated by technology to a degree, but I just worry that because there’s a sect of like nihilist primitivism of the ITS variety, that think nature is violent in some way, rather than nature just being destructive, that think they are justified to do it, so if I came across someone like that, I would hope that I would try and talk them over to a kind of personal low tech lifestyle, but to see that like there’s a future in building better schools and not being justified to take violence in that way.

Zerzan: You have to see… I mean is somebody coming from an anti-authoritarian point of view or not? You know that’s kind of basic. Or to put it another way, is this person an anarchist? Are we starting out with the same sort of general approaches or values?

I don’t know, some of this stuff is just off the table, like this ITS stuff, that just strikes me as completely unworthy of making any contribution at all. I was just appalled that people like the Little Black Cart folks were saying ‘oh we can learn something from this’, really? Murdering random people? No, it’s not, that’s just sick and fucked up and if that’s what passes for being an anarchist, no thanks. You just have to distance yourself from shit like that.

Ishkah: Cool, okay yeah, definitely agree on that.

[ladyirisreviews]

Breath of Fire 2 - REVIEW

After playing Breath of Fire 1, I was very excited to see what the sequel brought to the table, and honestly, I am glad that I played this, despite not being exactly what I wanted out of it.

I'll skip the prelude to talk about the stuff that happens in the "current time".

The protagonist and his friend, Bow, are both orphans who became rangers when they grew up, but someone framed Bow for a crime he didn't commit, so he is forced to flee the village, and it's up to the protagonist to clear his name, You'll meet several characters along the way and discover something sinister brewing in the land.

In this game, characters are more fleshed out and move along the plot, unlike in the first game where it's only the bad guys showing up and you have to beat them up.

Characters still join you without much reason, but at least most of them get some spotlight, they still don't interact with each other but it is a step forward.

There's also a place where you can directly talk with them, and they will comment about what is going on, which I think is a neat detail even if the dialogue is shallow.

I wish they could have had dialogue for all of your party members every time the plot was progressing, but for the most part, they are as silent as the protagonist, the exceptions being when they are first introduced and when their time in the spotlight comes.

The plot is also a huge step forward, the introduction does a good job at building a specific type of atmosphere and some mystery, as well as having some pretty well-made cutscenes throughout the game.

It's still pretty simple, both the story and the characters, but it is a noticeable upgrade.

I also liked how in very few instances, the game used the battle screen to make a cutscene play, I thought it was pretty cool, and I wish the game used that trick more, it would have made some scenes even more impactful.

As much as I appreciate the work that was done in everything related to the writing, The translation work is kind of terrible.

There are multiple instances where the text will be badly formatted, sentences will have weird wording, pronouns will be wrong, and even options will do the opposite of what they say.

I like everything that the plot tried to do, but the horrible translation does bring it down a bit, thankfully it doesn't make the game unplayable, or make you unable to appreciate some of the stuff that it does.

But man, I wish they released a re-translation for it.

Now going into the combat.

Right off the bat, I think getting rid of the icons was a good choice for the UI, which felt kinda clunky in the first game.

On top of having an attack option and a special option, every character has a special skill unique to them.

The main character, for example, recovers HP depending on how low his HP currently is, the effect being stronger the lower it is.

I felt that overall they didn't influence the battles a lot, the one for the main character is nice but I felt all the others were disposable, but it is still cool that each character has unique stuff.

Also, you can defend and switch formations by pressing L or R.

Formations are kinda neat, it's a step above just making a character be in the front or back row, deciding the risk of a character being attacked in that way was interesting for me, and I found myself changing the formation multiple times during my time playing the game.

As for magic, there are points when it feels underwhelming, especially around the middle of the game, but at the start and the end, magic can pack a punch.

Which is a big upgrade compared to how it was in the first one, where the only worthwhile spells were the healing ones, weaknesses still feel like they are kind of an afterthought, but at least they exist.

I do have to say though that making bosses immune to all the status-inducing spells and debuffs is very lame, I don't mind bosses being immune to things like sleep or poison, but being immune to debuffs as well makes the debuffs feel completely worthless, you won't be needing them on random fights either, since they end very quickly.

Despite this, the combat feels like a huge step forward compared to the original game, bosses will have you managing resources and you will need to watch out for random fights towards the end of the game.

A lot of random encounters are still solved by pressing the auto-battle button though, but if you use it during the last dungeons of the game odds are one of your party members will be KO'd.

There's also another mechanic that impacts combat, and that is the shaman system.

You will encounter shamans along the way that can fuse with your characters to increase their powers, there's a total of 6 shamans in the game and you can unite a max of 2 shamans to any character.

The catch is that characters are only compatible with some of the shamans, some being able to unite with most, and others with only a couple.

Also, if you happen to discover a special combination the character's color will change and the effect of the bonus will be stronger, or even better, their form can completely change and get a bonus in all stats.

I have some problems with the system though, it's lame that you can't fuse the shamans with everyone.

Allowing that extra customization would have been very cool, of course rewarding the secret transformations but still giving a little bonus for a non-special fusion.

Another problem that I have is that the fusions come apart very easily, when a character reaches critical health, or passes out, the fusion comes apart, but it also happens after a lot of cutscenes, which is pretty lame and annoying.

It would be better if you could have access to the fusions everywhere, or even at safe spots, but they are restricted to only 1 city.

So if you lose it in a long dungeon it's either go all the way back or finish the dungeon as is, which makes them feel a little bit worthless.

The overworld abilities make a comeback, but like last time, they feel a little bit like an afterthought, I saw it being used mostly to force a certain character into the party.

It would have been better if some character interactions led to them being forced onto the party, since if they are not with you and you encounter the obstacle you need them for, you need to go all the way back for them, which is the same place the shamans reside after you find them.

This can be kind of annoying.

And the worst is that they were perfectly capable of just forcing them on your party.

There is this section where you need a specific character to be with you to talk to another character, you get transported into a dream world with some save points available where you can change your party, but the character you need can't be removed.

And there is nothing inside the dream world that requires them, they don't even get dialogue inside, it's a bit frustrating.

This is one of the only things I think were better in the first game, you could freely change your party from anywhere, and that type of backtracking didn't exist thanks to this.

And like I mentioned, if they forced characters into your party with some plot in the middle it wouldn't be a problem, it would even flesh out the characters more.

Breath of Fire 2 has a way lower encounter rate than 1, so at least the backtracking isn't as bad.

Moving forward though, there's another new mechanic.

As you advance through the game you get to build a town of your own, and there are a lot of factors that change quite a lot of stuff.

Depending on the carpenter the look of the town will change, and you get to recruit people from around the world to open shops, only 6 though, and once you invite them to your town they will remain forever, so choose carefully.

Some sell pretty good stuff and others are useless, by talking to them when you first find them you will be able to know what purpose they would serve in your city.

And you could just save, recruit them, and then check out what they do, I think it's a very neat feature.

With the main features out of the way, I want to talk about the rest of the details.

Like in the first game, the overworld feels pretty small and looks pretty similar all over the world, at least there's more variety in the locations you get to visit in the dungeons, but also, like in the first game, they are very short and have barely any puzzles, the reduced encounter rate makes them more enjoyable to me though.

I had a nitpick in the first game, in towns, whenever you entered a house, the town theme would fade out and a different song would start playing.

This bothered me very much, and I am happy to say that doesn't happen in this game, but I have a different nitpick related to the music now.

And is that almost every dungeon plays the same song, this also applies to the towns, and they are not even that good in my opinion.

I am very glad the last few dungeons had unique songs, I would have been pretty mad if they didn't, but outside of those 2 songs, I think the game has a pretty good soundtrack.

Not every song is that great, but there's a couple that are very remarkable in my opinion.

I'd say I would definitely recommend this game over Breath of Fire 1, you don't miss on much lore if you skip it, as stuff that you would need to know is explained in the main plot of the game.

Writing this review made me realize how much I appreciate this game, especially when comparing it to the first one, it's such a big improvement.

I wasn't very optimistic about the series after I played the first one, but after looking at all the improvements they made in 2, I am a bit hopeful about Breath of Fire 3, and what improvements they could make.

Like more character development, a tighter combat system, or better dungeons.

Unlike the first game, which I think only people who enjoy very simple RPGs with almost no plot would enjoy, this game feels a bit more accessible, and I think you lose nothing in giving it a try.

The horrible translation could make it difficult to get into it, but once you do it's pretty fun to see through, at least in some parts.

It still has some issues, especially for how optimized RPGs are these days, but I felt it was a genuine attempt at making a better game, even if it still falls short in a lot of things.

There's a lot of plot-lines and concepts that I wish were developed more, characters that had more screen time, and of course, a better translation.

I kind of wish Capcom would remake this game someday with the proper care put into it, I think it would be incredibly good.

They don't need to waste millions in giving it mind-blowing graphics, as long as they get good translators, polish some of the rough edges, add some QoL stuff, and maybe add the Game Boy advance portraits.

It could be a very good quality release, but I know that will never happen, I still can dream though.

[wybienova]

additional reblog since i got some questions

but there’s already a route called no mercy!

functionally though, that’s just a neutral route! there’s no major differences in how events go, all that changes is a few lines of dialogue at the end. sure, you won’t be able to do the papyrus date if he’s dead, but it’s really just an alternate way to do neutral.

also, if you really must classify that one differently, why not change it too?

but we’ve already been calling it the “genocide route!”

yeah well that can change! i did too, but recently i got to thinking about it and decided you know what. im going to make an effort to call it no mercy instead!

and it’s not like this stuff hasn’t changed names before! deltarune first had simply the “alternate route,” which then evolved into “weird route” or “snowgrave.”

ALSO, in terms of undertale yellow specifically, “no mercy” IS the official name. check the patch notes, that’s what the devs themselves call it!

but what you do in that route IS a genocide!

it is, if we apply the term to it. i just worry that it takes away from the actual use of the word. the language we use to talk about stuff is important!!

like, nobody is inherently a bad person for doing a “genocide run” of undertale. you didn’t Do Genocide. you played a video game. if someone openly supports genocide, then they ARE a bad person! it can be kind of confusing and unhelpful to talk about them both this way. genocide is a very horrible and very real thing, and the enemies you kill in a video game really do not matter all that much.

final thing i want to say is just. why do you care so much? some of the replies ive gotten have been in good faith but some i can’t really tell! i made this post because i want more people in the undertale fandom to have more awareness and to think about this kind of thing!!!

go take this energy and direct it somewhere else. spread awareness, call your reps, donate to organizations like care for gaza, boycott zionist organizations, do whatever you can!!! fight like hell for the living!!!!!

since ive been thinking abt undertale a lot lately: can we as a community start calling it the no mercy route. please.

“genocide route” has never been an official name, and “no mercy” describes it better anyways. but more importantly i feel like we shouldn’t be making light of this when there’s actual real-life genocides happening in gaza, sudan, congo, and more.

i don’t know maybe this isn’t that big a deal. but it’s been on my mind lately and i just feel like we should be taking this more seriously!! genocide is serious! stop calling this route a genocide and learn about the real ones happening

[siriussly-serious]

So...I was minding my own business, and all of a sudden out of nowhere this bumble bee buzzed in through my window, and he threatened to sting me if I didn’t write this fic....so...to save us both...I wrote some Xenophilius and Kingsley fluff. 

NOW...before you even THINK about saying anything...I love a rare pair okay. I can’t help myself. 

Okay so maybe I didn’t save the life of a bee...I’m just weird....anyway...

Enjoy. Or don’t. That’s fine too.

When Pandora died, Xenophilius didn’t react in the way that people thought he would. When describing him, it was impossible to leave out how eccentric he was, and it bled through to his emotions. By no means was he overly emotional, but he certainly didn’t subscribe to the idea that men needed to be made of stone. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t help but doing th epolar opposite at the funeral. In all honesty, he wasn’t entirely sure what to feel. He’d loved this woman with all of his heart. She didn’t care that he sang to his plants or if he danced barefoot in the garden on the weekends, and she never batted an eyelid when he kept troll spit in the fridge beside the milk. She was his and he was absolutely hers, and then one day, she was gone. That was the only day he’d ever worn all black. He’d tried to smile for Luna’s sake, but he couldn’t keep it up. He didn’t quite remember when he took himself away from everyone celebrating Pandora’s life in the living room, but before he knew it, the sun was coming up and he’d been sat in the garden, crosslegged behind a rosebush the entire time. Kingsley’s sudden presence almost made him flinch in surprise. He’d have loved to return the soft smile, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. Instead he found himself just staring up at the man, stoic as he had been the entire day. The last thing Kingsley wanted was to give him ‘that look’. It wasn’t fair. Most people hated sympathy and the puppy dog eyes wouldn’t help anyone, so instead he took a seat beside the other man and pulled in a deep breath. Xeno made a mental note to remember the usual scene. The stunning shades of deep blue that seemed to swirl over the fabric of Kingsley’s waistcoat didn’t seem right being so close to the ground, and yet…

“That was a beautiful service, Xen.”

“Thank you, Kingsley.”

A moment of silence passed and then he spoke again.

“It’s peaceful out here.”

“I come here when the Wrackspurt’s start buzzing around.”

“Am I interrupting?”

“Hm? Oh, no. I think you might have frightened it away.”

It’d be a lie if Kingsley were to say that he understood absolutely everything Xenophilius ever said, but understand them or not, he certainly enjoyed them. The corners of his mouth turned up in a way that he hoped wasn’t too patronising, and with a soft grunt he pressed the palm of one hand into the grass to push himself back up to his feet. 

“Come on. You should get some rest.”

“But Luna -“

“Is asleep. Tucked in safe and sound.”

“Oh…well the house is -“

“Clean and tidy. Kettle charmed to stay hot.”

“Kingsley…”

There it was. Those fabled emotions that Xenophilius was known for. Over the years, the two hadn’t exactly been the best of friends, but things change. When The Order was formed, it seemed as though the children that’d all gone to school together had stopped existing and had been replaced with adults. If adulthood was having to bury the people you loved, Xeno wanted absolutely nothing to do with it. Begrudgingly, he gracefully eased himself up to his feet. Soles pressing into the soft grass as he guided himself up without the use of his hands. 

“Since the kettle is already ready, would you like some tea?”

Kingsley had learnt from experience to never agree to a cup of tea offered to him by Xenophilius Lovegood, but in this case, he’d politely nod and follow the man inside. It was Luna who first realised that the two had been spending more and more time together. She’d bought her dinner plate over to the kitchen, pausing to look over at Kingsley who was in the midst of preparing desert.

“I think it’s nice that you make daddy happy.”

For a moment, the man hadn’t been entirely sure what to say and when he’d lifted his eyes to find Xenophilius for some sort of help, the man was nowhere to be seen. He was good at that. Just slipping away without anyone noticing. It really was a talent. An infuriating talent. 

“You don’t have to be embarrassed.”

“No, I’m not I just…did he…say something?”

“He didn’t have to. Everything smells yellow when you’re around. That’s his favourite colour. He’s happy. With you.”

Almost as if he were summoned, the sound of Xeno’s bare feet sounded in the room. Half of the long wavy blonde locks pulled up into a bun at the top of his head, held in place by his wand. In one swift motion, he’d pulled the length of wood out of his hair, letting his hair fall about his shoulders, and charmed the record player to fill the space with an upbeat vinyl. Before Kingsley had a moment to gauge what was happening, Luna had skipped across the room and the two were dancing around each other. It really was a sight to see. Luna would bow, Xeno would curtsey and crouch low enough for her to be able to twirl him. It was hardly graceful, but Kingsley couldn’t tear his eyes away. 

“Come and dance with us!”

“Kingsley does not dance, sweetheart.”

“Now, hold on. I can dance.”

“You absolutely can not.”

“I can, thank you very much.”

That was an absolute lie, and the second the words came out of his mouth, he knew it’d been a mistake. That being said, if there was anything that Kingsley was not, it was a man who went back on his word. So he forced aside the sensation of his stomach falling into his polished boots and stepped forward to try and mimic what he thought seemed like an appropriate way to dance. Needless to say, it was hardly his best work. Luna was giggling into her hands, and Xeno swayed his hips watching in the hopes that Kingsley might eventually find the rhythm. No such luck.

“You look like you have had a run-in with a Heliopath.”

“Well I thought I was doing quite well. Luna?”

In turn Luna snorted out another laugh, head dipping forward and sending a few strands of her pale blonde hair into her eyes. Xeno set the wand down, stepping in closely and bringing his hands up to rest on Kingsley’s waist. When the next song started, he felt tender hands guide his hips to the beat of the music. His eyes instinctively lowered to the grip, but when he lifted them again, he was caught by the bright eyes lingering on his own.

“Like this?”

“Much better. Is it not, Luna?”

When the question was greeted by silence, neither man had to turn and look to know that she’d inherited her father’s ability to slip out of any room with barely a sound. Without a thought, Kingsley’s eyes momentarily snapped down to Xeno’s mouth, where his teeth caught caught his bottom lip. That simple glance was all the encouragement Xeno needed to tip forward and connect their lips in a tender kiss. While the kiss didn’t come as a surprise, how easily Kingsley felt himself melt into it certainly was. One hand came up to push through the blonde locks and settle at the nape of Xeno’s neck, and in turn, the other pulled them closer together. Without realising it at that point, Xenophilius had found another person who would cradle him when one of his plants died and wordlessly move the toad bile when it was in the way of the milk.

[brdpch]

{4} a game of cats, mice and hearts like ice

desktop: previous ✧ next mobile: previous ✧ next

synopsis: in the world of deadly games and their lives at risk, a very smart medical student meets a very cunning girl who claims his life as hers.

warnings: canon-typical violence, graphic descriptions of violence, sexual abuse, substance abuse, niragi, literally everything, you name it.

formatting: it's a glued-together dynamic roleplay between me and @bvrdel-mama, so the replies are separated by ♠♥♦♣, and the dialogues are written like — This. — yes, the symbols look horrible on mobile - we'll try to fix that in the future. or not. who knows.

statistics: 2,681 words 14,777 characters.

author's note: it's a mix of manga!chishiya with show!chishiya, and also i think so many people forget (and even the show creators lol) that the phones could record and take pictures et cetera - Chota discovered it in the first episode and recorded the game arena, which Arisu used later on for game clear. also! what's worth noticing - in this rp there are dice involved. the mechanic is called a d20 mechanic, and it's based on dungeons and dragons 5th edition. we also use other dice rolls for other outcomes, so future events might surprise both me and my roleplaying partner. enjoy!

The blonde girl giggled at Chishiya's response, tucking a piece of her hair behind her pierced ear, finally resting her back on the carseat, giving Shuntarō well deserved space.

— [english] I have one more riddle for you. — she stated, ignoring his comments completely, a playful smile back on her lips. — [english] For now, you're the only Beach member I can recognise without any issues. Why is that?

Shuntarō didn't change his position at all, but was now looking closely at Unmei analyzing her shamelessly and smirking knowingly.

— [english] It must be because of attractiveness. — Shuntarō said matter-of-factly.

♠♥♦♣

— [english] So close, — she said shamelessly. — [english] yet so far. That's just a symptom. How do I put it nicely… — she paused. — [english] You should think about the illness instead.

Shuntarō opened his eyes widely and touched his chest mockingly.

— [english] Am I sick, doctor? Is that the plague? — he asked, raising the sleeves of his hoodie and his shirt as if inspecting himself for weird bumps that a disease could cause.

♠♥♦♣

Unmei giggled.

— [english] I like you.

♠♥♦♣

— [english] Oh, just don't fall in love. — Shuntarõ commented, getting out of the car with Unmei.

♠♥♦♣

The game arena Unmei and Chishiya were dispatched into, turned to be a large multi-story apartment complex, dimly lit up with orange light. At this point at night it was rather chilly, and so the fate tucked herself more in Niragi's shirt, scanning the surroundings with a focused gaze.

— I'm gonna check out the place. Won't be long.

She didn't wait for any permission to move out of Chishiya's sight, which she probably should have done. He was there to judge her performance, but he also assured Niragi (and Unmei herself) that he'll protect her to his best ability. Wandering around the game arena with various people gathering around wasn't necessarily the safest option, but she wouldn't take „no” for an answer - Chishiya deduced simply by her tone of voice, suddenly lacking its sweet aftertaste. Since arrival, something in her demeanor changed, and it wasn't just the way she focused on the task ahead. For now it was too hard to pinpoint what exactly.

They were far enough to hide possibly the only working car in the nearest area, and also to arrive at the entrance by themselves, and not as a group. That's why Unmei was the last of The Beach members to scan her face with a phone. She looked stressed, but Chishiya noticed a while ago it was just a façade.

♠♥♦♣

She went in front taking the initiative before bravely exclaiming of her intentions of „checking the place out”. Chishiya shrugged because by the tone of her voice he deducted that there was no convincing her otherwise. Soon he followed her around some distance behind silently when she wandered around the arena scanning the area closely with her cold eyes that now had none of her previous sweetness left. She's actively thinking about the strategy instead of pissing about the main lobby - smart.

Shuntarō took two glances at the area and already picked up a couple of interesting places to situate himself, depending on the game. He then took out his hand-made stun gun and plugged it into a socket. You never know when you need to protect yourself, and there was nothing in the rules against bringing weapons, so he did take one with him. 

He stood by the wall, put in his earphones listening to some tunes on the old cassette player he found long ago. It calmed his mind before the coming task, though he probably looked suspiciously calm on the outside. Shuntarō also followed Unmei with his gaze, observing her every move.

♠♥♦♣

Unmei soon disappeared into the distance, consumed by darkness of the Toei Sendagaya apartment complex, apparently taking a stroll around the area as well.

The players kept gathering, like moths to a light source - which meant not only the experienced ones joined, but also the noobs. Unmei observed people, staying far from Chishiya, playing a dumb foreigner role. She stared at her phone screen looking puzzled, playing with the edge of Niragi's shirt.

Other Beach members did not intervene, because even if they wanted - they simply couldn't, knowing very well it's Unmei's test. Soon enough there was chatter with hushed voices. Is she able to read the rules?, should we help?, oh no, a fuckin' beginner, good for us - a cannon fodder!. She hid her amusement with no difficulties, as well as the military knife attached to her belt, right under the black fabric of her shirt.

Players gathered concluded:

two girls dressed up neatly, standing near each other; one in a mint knee-high skirt, the other one in a loose white mantle with a flower print - and it looked like they posed no threat,

a man in purple shirt, a vest and with fedora on his head, looking shady, scanning others in search of potential allies,

an old lady with glasses, clearly stressed, but trying really hard to stay composed,

two older businessmen in suits,

a young woman with short brown hair, currently stretching and warming up,

two Beach members neither chishiya nor Unmei knew by name,

a guy in blue wearing a baseball cap, clearly lost,

and lastly, two newcomers, one in a navy hawaiian shirt, the other with longer messy black hair.

The man in blue shyly approached the sporty girl.

— Mm, excuse me... — he pointed to the phone in his hand. — Wha-, where did all the people in Tokyo go?

One of the businessmen interrupted their conversation, passing in between them to grab the phone. Sporty looked annoyed.

— This thing here-

— There's a lot of people here. maybe one's a doctor.

It was Shaggy who now interrupted Sporty and Blue. in the company of Hawaii, they reached for the phones.

one per person.

Blue approached another player, yet again, clearly stressed and lost.

— E-excuse me. What is this? — he pointed to his phone. — I was brought here... — he chuckled nervously. — and i... I don't know what's going on.

Poor boy, Unmei thought, biting her lower lip and looking as helpless as she could.

— It's a game. — Shaggy finally spoke, giving Blue the answer he needed. It was Hawaii who then scolded Shaggy, and Unmei turned her attention to them - they were speaking, and even if she pretended to not understand the language, she had to be curious about the sudden commotion.

— Shut up. Newbies will slow us down. they might hate us, but i think it'd be a good idea to do what Shibuki did.

registration has closed.

there are a total of 14 participants.

d i f f i c u l t y : 5 of ♠️

g a m e : tag

r u l e: avoid whoever is >it<.

c l e a r c o n d i t i o n : discover and touch the symbol hidden in one of the building's rooms within the time limit. you clear the game when this objective is fulfilled.

t i m e l i m i t : 20 minutes. after 20 minutes, the time bomb hidden in the building will explode.

the game will commence in two minutes.

— It's gonna be physical. — now it was Fedora speaking. — Only the strong survive.

Oh well, Unmei smiled to herself, barely visibly to others. No one paid attention to her now, anyway, besides her supervisor.

Shaggy, Hawaii and Fedora continued their conversation, Fedora explaining some of the general rules and bragging about the number of games he previously cleared. Unmei listened, now planning carefully how to proceed. Chishiya didn't know it, but could easily deduce that she wasn't really into any sports besides dancing, which did require some strength and agility, but not enough for these deadly lands. Also, she was wearing sandals. High heel and platform ones. Unfit to run at all.

♠♥♦♣

Chishiya did observe his surroundings even though he had his hood on and looked busy with his music - he noticed more people gathering. Lot of them looked like newcomers barely situated in this new reality which surrounded them. Well, he thought, at least they will have their use as human shields if anything happens. There are a few which stood out - a girl with short hair who looked like she was prepping for a run, and two young men - one looking like a criminal, the other one like in his old life barely saw the light of day. They were talking about something, Chishiya couldn't hear them but he could read lips  - they were looking for a doctor. Shuntarō smiled, in his past life he would probably be eager to help them as he had medical training, but in the Borderlands everyone works for themselves or for people who they could use to their advantage later.

His contemplations were cut short by the ping of his phone. Tag, hm, that narrows down the places that are the safest by two options - the highest floor by either of two corners of the staircase, he thought. He took the headphones out of his ears and went up behind Unmei clearing his throat and looking at her expectedly. Let's see if she figured it out, he thought. She tried to hide behind the mask of a dumb foreigner the whole time, smart, make them underestimate you so that when things turn ugly they won't even see you as a threat. They had two minutes to situate themselves around the complex.

— Shall we? — he inquired.

♠♥♦♣

When the players started getting up stairs, Unmei frowned and pushed the elevator button, not paying much attention to chishiya. as she entered, she moved aside, so he could use the ride up, too.

— Don't get in my way. — she stated coldly, pushing a button.

The building had seven floors. she pushed the button with number 6.

— Need an explanation of my doings to evaluate my performance?

♠♥♦♣

Chishiya chuckled slightly and smirked.

— Of course, boss. — he snapped matter-of-factly.

Sixth floor, that's it. Unmei figured out almost the same thing he did. 

— I am here to simply observe passively and help you as a last resort, if your life or mine were in immediate danger. — he shrugged. — But if that happens and we'll still be alive and clear the game, well - your dream of becoming the executive will crumble. — he added coldly, smirking slightly.

♠♥♦♣

— What makes you think you'll be much help? You're not a spades player, after all.

♠♥♦♣

— I think I can handle myself just fine, worry about your performance, Unmei. Let's see if fate is on your side. — he stated coldly with a tinge of irritation, insulting his intellect was something he couldn't stand.

♠♥♦♣

Ding.

The door opened, and Unmei shivered under the cold night breeze's embrace.

She quickly took in her surroundings, or rather - other players' positions. No one chose the elevator, meaning they were slower, scattered now across the floors, some of them helplessly trying to open blue-painted doors.

— I am the fate. — she replied matter-of-factly, not even bothering with looking at Shuntarō. With no Beach members around, her mask fell off. Maybe she, too, recognized a wolf.

Unmei navigated towards a corner nearest to the elevator, taking off her sandals and placing them by the sliding door, making sure if the button is pushed, the machinery won't budge - the mechanism would simply fail due to being unable to close itself.

It was obvious she wasn't suited to walk barefoot, especially on the cold concrete; she embraced herself with her arms, checking the phone.

the game will now commence.

the time limit is 20 minutes.

commence now.

— In case you can't handle yourself, let me explain my thought process. — she started, putting her phone on the half-wall separating the hallway from the empty space beneath them. — So maybe you'll catch on in case of an emergency.

…and she pressed the record button. The phones had options such as „record” and „take picture”.

— If the „it” starts from the bottom, it's easier to corner all players to the top. But, „it” could start on the top floor, too, and now that the elevator is unusable, they would have to take the stairs. We could hear them and spot them if they chose stairs near us. If they do, though, run to the elevator. Got it?

♠♥♦♣

It was colder than downstairs so Chishiya zipped up his hoodie exiting the elevator. Everyone was scattered and some were already running around panicking, he could hear their hearts pounding with fear and compared it with his own - it too was beating slightly faster but more in excitement and anticipation than fear and panic, although his face betrayed no emotions.

— You're repeating yourself. — he stated coldly, rolling his eyes.

The shoes were an interesting choice, they would only slow her down so getting them off was the only way, but the cold ground won't be easy to walk on either. Creating an emergency exit and preventing others from taking the elevator - smart, he thought and smirked to himself.

Chishiya listened to her strategy and nodded. He only assumed that the „it” will start from the bottom, he didn't think about the top at all. He raised his eyebrows slightly for a brief second as to express his shock but the gesture faded as quickly and as subtly as it appeared.

— [english] Sure thing. — he said leaning over the balcony and waving to the shaggy basement dweller he saw earlier. He and the criminal looking guy seemed panicked out of their minds, it was... amusing.

♠♥♦♣

Unmei had her eyes focused on other floors, knowing well that the top one and the ones right below them were out of sight. She took the phone and put the camera below, screen tilted, so she recorded some footage of the hallways below. She then checked the video.

— If it's a game of tag, — she continued, quietly, alert to any sounds that might announce that someone is coming their way. — the tagger has to somewhat „catch” and „tag” their… ugh, [english] can't you stick to one language? — she rolled her eyes, briefly focusing her gaze on Chishiya.

— [english] Anyway, if it's a game of tag, the tagger has to tag its' victims. Do you think the creator of the game would like to run around? And if not themselves, then whom? — she asked rhetorically. — [english] It's the players who are supposed to run away, so the tagger has to have a way to tag them. Or maybe kill. — she shrugged.

Her words were followed by gunshots, but she didn't budge, like she was used to hearing such noise. Tatatatatatatata. She tilted her head slightly, hearing the screaming, observing as Fedora was shot on his back multiple times. Tagger started somewhere in the middle, unnoticed. He could have used one of the apartments as his starting point, then.

— [english] Machine pistol. — she stated matter-of-factly, putting the record button yet again, now - just the sound.

Horse-head was obviously visible right now, much to her…  impassivity.

— [english] The masks block their field of view. — she hummed. — [english] So their goal is to kill the opposing team. Ours, that is. — she explained, with a pretty bland tone of voice, but as detailed as possible, questioning or rather mocking Chishiya's intelligence and comprehension capabilities.

— [english] Otherwise they would have to leave the game arena before the explosion, giving the players extra time to find the safe zone. — she added, now turning her gaze to Chishiya, lowering her voice even more - she was recording sound, after all.

— [english] Do you believe in the morphogenetic field theory?

[just-some-random-blogger]

Death By Bagel

NCT Culinary Student!Mark Lee x Fashion Design Student!Reader Summary: Mark makes a cake cause he's realized he can't lose you to some f-boy. Word Count: 3k+ Warnings: Fluff, childhood au, college au, slowish burn, slight cursing, reallllly fluffy, some broksi-dude action, typos sksksksks, etc.

R E Q U E S T my friend: mark lee, slow burn, friends to lovers

A/N: I wrote a fic that already had like 1k+ word then I LOST IT (i think i deleted it) thus this. It took me 10 years to write this msmsmkskskks. PLEASE TUMBLR IS MESSING WITH ME AND MIXED UP THE ORDER OF SOME OF THE DIALOGUE

“As a doctor, I don’t think you should be doing that,” Mark says, not even bothering to look at his patient seated rudely on the floor. Oop, he’s lying down now.

Mark huffs and looks up from the clay block he was molding on his tray, “YOU’RE SO UNPROFESSIONAL!”

Mark’s mother nearly spits out her coffee upon hearing the words of his five-year-old son. Her husband snorts, “He got that from you.”

The woman throws a look at the man and was supposed to give a snarky retort, up until the sound of the doorbell ringing. She grins from ear-to-ear and dashes to get the door.

When she comes back to the living room, she’s accompanies by another woman and a tiny version of her.

“Markie! Say hello to your Auntie!” Mark’s mom calls.

Mark from the carpeted floor looks up and blinks, examining the stranger-woman and its human-ling. Mark turns to his father who was sat on the couch and receives a nod of approval almost. Mark purses his lips and waves at the woman.

The woman waves back and then crouches down to the little girl, “Baby, say hello to Mark.”

Unwilling, she shakes her head.

“Aw come on, baby. Don’t be shy. Mark over there is a really sweet boy. I knew him when he was in his mommy’s tummy, just like Mark’s mom knew you when you were in mine. You’re the same age so you’ll get along just fine.”

With the unnecessary explanation that gave no justification to the scene whatsoever out of the way, the girl was fooled into peeping up, “Hi, Mark.”

“Hello,” Mark says, not particularly interested, as his patient was still in the midst of dying in his office. He turned to his stuffed toy called Mr. Lion and attempted to stand him up once more.

At this point, the girl makes her way to Mark.

“We’ll be back in two hours, honey. Keep an eye on the children,” Mrs. Lee tells his husband who had been occupied with TV the entire time.

“Yeah. I got this,” he smiles to his wife then goes back to watching.

The bumble bee clad figure sat down to Mark in blue and watched him play.

Mark ignored her for a few seconds, needing to assert all efforts on standing that dumb toy up. Once successful, Mark turns to her, “Do you play doctors?”

Mark was then met with the same lack on enthusiasm. She hums, “I like playing baker doctor.”

All at once, Mark gasps, “ME TOO!”

It was unbeknownst to the children it was oddly specific and the chance of this happening was pretty slim.

And in a blink of an eye, excited giggles erupt in the room, as if they had been having so much fun before this scene. It was here and there the two would become best friends to the very end.

... so I guess it means the reckoning is upon us.

“MARK LEE I SWEAR TO THE FU--” “WHAT! WHAT!?” Mark laughs.

"YOU ATE MY BAGEL! AGAIN!" I growl in a loud whisper, throwing the wrapper at him and his flat head before he could think to dodge it while he annoyingly laughs.

"I asked if I could have it though!" he says, fully knowing his sins.

I glared at him and say lowly, "I thought you were referring to my notes, bread for brains."

Mark snorts loud enough for our teacher to wake up from his nap. Once the class notices, we all pretend to be doing something productive and Mark plays it off with a cough.

"Mr. Lee." Mr. Kim says sternly, clicking his tongue, blinking his eyes rapidly.

Mark finishes coughing and turns to our seated professor, "Yes sir."

"Don't go to school if you're sick and going to cause a racket with your coughing."

Mark nods firmly and Mr. Kim closes his eyes again, mumbling, "page 65 is due tomorrow."

The entire class grumbles. Mark beside me scoffs and makes a face, "Yeah, yeah, Doyoung."

I turn to him and elbow his side.

"Whatever," Mark shakes his head, "professor bunny-teeth won't hear me."

Once class ended, we both get our things and head out for lunch. We walk to our canteen, fussing over assignments, deciding we should do it together later in our mutually free period.

I groan and narow your eyes at him as we have an argument over how he hasn't finished the essay for English, "That's not the point."

"Yo Mark!" a voice calls from afar. Mark and I turn, looking for the voice, and I spot the dimpled senior, Jung Jaehyun, in a table with the rest of his squad.

I nudge Mark and point at the pale guy seated by the corner.

Mark throws him a smile and waves. I follow closely behind him as he walks over to the table. "We're going to sit with them?" I say in some sort of gasp.

"Yeah." Mark replies simply, not bothering to turn to me, "they're cool."

I knit my brows at that and nod, "Yeah I know. But I'm not cute today."

Mark stops in his tracks and throws me a confused look, "what?"

"I didn't put any make-up on today, also I'm pretty sure there's a visible stain somewhere on my jacket, I just don't remember where."

Mark scrunches his face up again, even more confused. "What? How do you... forget a stai-- that's not the point. Why do you wanna look cute today?" He scoffs and continues lowly, "hardly as if you ever look cute."

I let out an annoyed groan and punch Mark's shoulder. "Like when you panicked when Seulgi came over and asked for notes."

Mark openes his mouth, "That is so not the same! Jaehyun's a fuck bo-"

"Just shut up already," I snap and shove him forward so he'd continue walking. "Let's not keep him waiting," I add and mumble, "also I know. Dong Sicheng however is very cute."

Mark chuckles, "he's dated every girl on the dance team."

"Okay, maybe not that cute."

"Ya, Mark," Jaehyun grins and greets the said person with a high-five and chest bump. He turns to me and speaks my name with a smile. I smile back politely and wave.

I'm about to sit next to Sicheng, but Mark shoves me and so I end up sitting on the other side of the bench table with Jaehyun. I turn to Jaehyun with a small, non-awkward smile and shoot Mark a glare. He seems unbothered though.

"So, you up for a round later?" Jaehyun asks Mark.

Mark talks over me, "you know it, dude."

Jaehyun flashes his dimple smile all the stupid girls fall for. I'm only half falling for it cause I'm only half stupid. He raises his brows, "you bought the dough, right?"

This makes me knit my brows.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I really did this time," Mark mumbles quickly. "It's my turn anyway."

Jaehyun gives an off look, "that's literally what you said last time bro."

"Yo, no for real. It's in my bag, if you wanna check."

Jaehyun shakes his head when Mark begins to scramble for it, "no, Lee, it's good. We wouldn't want you friend to get dirty."

Is it just me or do you feel slimey all of a sudden?

Jaehyun then gives me a somewhat, somehow sincere smile, "so. I hear you're in fashion design."

I give a soft chuckle, "yeah. That's me."

"I could tell from a mile away. Mark looks horrible next to your getup."

I look down at my sweater and ripped jeans. Mark exclaims in protest, "shut the hell up, Jae."

I give a soft smile at Jaehyun, "don't know where that comes from but thanks I guess."

Jaehyun chuckles, "I'm kidding," he eyes Mark, "I saw your Fashion Design pin on your bag when you sat down."

"Oooohhhh, haha, okay, that makes sense."

"Ya, Jeff," Sicheng calls for Jaehyun, "it's almost time."

Jaehyun turns to his friend and nods. He turns back to me and Mark, "well, it's nice to meet you. Mark won't put a sock in it even if I beg. See you around, fashionista."

He stands and slaps Mark's back, "see ya later, broski."

"Yeah, bruh," Mark replies.

Once it's just Mark and I, I snap at him and blurt out in a whisper yell, "YOU'RE ON BROSKI LEVEL WITH JUNG JAEHYUN?!"

Mark gives me a weird face, "bruh, I think he calls the principal broski, for real."

I smack Mark, making him whine, "you know what I'm talking about, Mark! And what, are you doing drugs?!?"

He shakes his head in confusion, "Wait, what!? Who the hell told you that?"

"Uhhhhh you were talking about dough and showing up later. Sounds like you owe him money for drugs, Mark."

"??? In what universe did we even mention drugs?? Does this," he slaps his face, "look like a face of a drug addict to you?"

"A gullible idiot maybe."

Mark's jaw drops, "oh wow, okay. I'm done with this conversation." He proceeds to stand attempt to walk away. I scoff, "not on my watch bitch."

Like the true idiot that he is, Mark begins to legit run away from me, like a criminal who stole my cookies. It's embarrassing that he, a man much taller than I, could not even outrun me. I suppose I should be grateful, but this just fortifies my thoughts of him being an idiot even more.

But okay... I wasn't actually expecting this... like... Mark and Jaehyun... like... actually baking bread after school with dough Mark premade at home. Also, uh, Jaehyun looks super cute in an apron that I'm having a mental breakdown. And what's new, so does Mark.

"I can't believe you thought I was a drug dealer," Jaehyun says in a soft pout as he rolls out dough on the marble counter of his friggin large kitchen in his friggin large house. Like dang, I knew he was rich, but he's like Rich™ Rich. Rich with a golden diamond encrusted Rolex watch rich that's in a glass display rich-- wtf.

Mark wheezes in his telltale high pitched laugh as he opens a pack of unsweetened chocolate pellets, "she thought dough was some sort of metaphor or something."

"Cute," they say at the same time. Mark turns to Jaehyun in slight surprise and Jaehyun turns to me. I roll my eyes, though I feel my neck burn. I avert my attention to the scene I was sketching on my pad, Jaehyun and Mark baking croissants. I clear my throat, "I'm just making use of the single braincell between us, cause if he doesn't die falling down the stairs, he's gonna pull some idiotic stuff like baking with Jung Jaehyun."

Oddly, it's Mark that reacts to that with a, "hey!"

Jaehyun rubs his chin on his shoulder, "I also can't believe you think so little of me.'

I break a sweat but decide to answer honestly, "... ... ... You have a reputation."

"Of being a fuck boy?"

Mark loudly transfers the chocolates into a metal bowl, making the two of us snap at him. Mark makes a face, "oh gosh, sorry."

Jaehyun sighs, "well. I admit I get around, but that's only because I get dumped every time."

I raise a brow.

Jaehyun purses his lips, "nah, let's not make this weird. The croissants will be flat."

"Dude," Mark turns to him, "that's literally only because you messed up the recipe."

Jaehyun grits his teeth, "no. It's because Kun's a little teacher's pet and sabotaged me so he could get the best grade."

"No, but like Kun is really nice, he helped me with the fold techinique."

Jaehyun scoffs, "He stole me vanilla extract, Mark. Who does that?!"

"No, listen, he's cool, like, for real--"

"No, you listen, he's a little shit and--"

The two begin to bicker like a married couple, and I begin to draw inspiration form the scene to design some random sketches of wedding dresses.

I look back to the two and still can't get over the fact that I learned Jaehyun was a culinary arts major with my best friend, and that I was currently in the Jung's boojie home because I thought Mark was buying drugs from him. Not what I was expecting at all my day to go like, but I'm not mad this is how it went.

"No, no, no, no," Jaehyun says. He turns to me and points, "let's just get an outside opinion. Babe, what's your favorite color?"

"BABE?!" Mark barks.

I take a moment to reply. I blink slowly, "uhh... pink?"

Jaehyun bites his lower lip and claps his flour covered hands, "Right. Pink croissants it is."

Mark shoots him a glare and turns to me, back to Jaehyun, "she has a name."

Jaehyun nods, "yeah, and she wants pink croissants."

Mark makes a face and Jaehyun examines it, chuckling under his breath. "Wah, you two are something, huh."

No one really responds.

We began to always eat lunch with Jaehyun and his friends. It's funny cause I realized Jaehyun, although I still firmly believed he was out to get nasty with every other girl he sees, he was actually just like Mark. A total loser with a love for cooking.

"Hey," Mark says with a snippy tone.

I give him a look and suddenly receive a paper bag to my face. Mark sits on his chair next to me, as per usual. I smell the thing before I realize what it is. It's a freshly baked bagel. I perk up and smile, "Aw, you baked me a bagel?"

Mark raises his upper lip, "no. Jaehyun did."

I knit my brows, "what? Why?"

Mark narrows his brows, "do you, like, like him?"

I give him a look. I take a bite of the bagel, making Mark look at me in disbelief. I answer, "You do know I only hang with him cause you do, right?"

"Then why'd you eat the bagel then?"

"Uh, a number of reasons. 1) it's a bagel, 2) free food, 3) I'm starving, 4) it smells amazingggg."

Mark does a face, "fair. I've been meaning to ask how he does his seasoning for a while now too." He releases a breath, "and anyway, I'm pretty sure he made a bagel cause I told him you liked them. Never talking about you to him anymore though."

I look at him, "why do you talk about me so much to him anyway?"

"Uh because you're amazing," Mark says instinctively.

I feel my heart skip at that. I coo and place my hands on my chest, "wait that's really sweet."

Mark looks at me. His face begin to shift, "too bad it's a lie- haha."

I give him a look and rebut, "jerk."

"Loser."

As quickly as I found out about Jaehyun being Mark's friend, that's about as quickly as I found out he didn't like hanging out with him anymore. It's kind of a shame I never got to go back to his boojie house.

There was this one encounter I had with Jaehyun though... which was a little weird, not gonna lie.

He was waiting for me outside my Tailoring class, smiling and waving when he saw me. I Reluctantly reciprocated and walked over to him.

He releases a breath, "I've been waiting for about 20 minutes for you. I didn't know when your class would end."

I raise my brows, "you could have asked?"

"Well I would need your number for that, and that would have ruined the surprise," he pulled out a brown paper bag, reminiscing the same one Mark chucked at my face.

"I made you two this time," he smiles.

I take a moment to reply, "you don't have to make me bagels, Jaehyun."

He grabs my hand, "yeah, but I want something out of ya," he places the bagels in my hand. He proceeds to lead us off and we begin to walk down the hall.

Truth be told, it's a little scary that his ulterior motive is up in the air. Jaehyun places his hands in his pockets, "I like your dress, by the way."

I smile, "thanks. I made it."

He smiles and nods, "right. That makes sense as to why it suits you well."

I can't help but blush at that, and simultaneously feel conscious when I realize a bunch of girls in my course are looking at me and Jaehyun as we strut down the hall.

"So, what did you want, Jaehyun?"

"Well, I clearly wanted to ask you out."

"..."

"..."

Jaehyun smiles and give a soft laugh, "is it so ground breaking?"

"... Uh..."

He sniggers, "hey, you can say no. I mean I hope you don't but you can." Jaehyun leans in and raises his hands, "I won't like it, but a man should take rejection from a lady well."

I turn to him as he straightens up. I turn to the bagels he made me and bring it back to him. He laughs, "no, I made them for you really. It's not poisoned, in fact it's made with love."

I visibly react to that, which makes Jaehyun wheeze. I can't help but laugh back, "that was hella tacky."

"Worth a shot though," he says. "Good luck with Mark."

I look at him with silence and he chuckles, "ya, you can't fool me."

I'm about to retort but then Jaehyun gets called by one of the frats dudes I identify as Johnny Seo. Jaehyun does a curtsy and clicks his tongue, "see ya later babez."

"You know, I would have said yes if you didn't do stuff like that."

Jaehyun purses his lips, "no you wouldn't."

I shrug, "worth a shot though."

Jaehyun places a hand on his chest, dramatically calling, "Uh, rejection hurts, man."

Yeah, I never went to Jaehyun's boojie house ever again.

Silver lining though was Mark's dorm smelled equally as nice because of all the food he cooks, although it came with a whiff of axe body spray from his roommate, Lucas. It's cool though, he was almost never around for me to smell it in its whole intensity.

"Aite," Mark calls from his side of the dorm. I perk up from the two seater dining table they had and turn to Mark who was covering the cake he was making for his finals.

"Don't, like, peek, okay. I want you to see the cake all at once and give me your honest reaction to it. Please, like, all my lives kinda depend on it."

"How many lives do you have?"

"9, I'm pretty sure."

I stand from my seat, "not you faking your life as a cat, but get it I guess."

Mark raises a hand at me as I walk over, "can you not, I'm high-key panicking right now."

"Over what? You literally made a box of donuts for your midterms and it looked better than Misty Mreme! I'm sure your cake is hot."

"It was in the minifridge for a day. I mean it barely fit cause of all of Lucas' mountain dew."

I groan, "just show me it, Mark Lee!"

Mark whined and dashes over to me, grabbing my shoulders, "okay, but like, don't be mean about it. I swear, I might cry."

I give a sound and fake cough, "it's ugly."

Mark doesn't respond to that particular jab, "I'm serioussss. Please be kind, okay?"

I look at Mark's nervous face and give a soft pout, "Markie, please, not that I think it would be ugly, but I promise you don't have to be nervous about my reaction."

He isn't soothed by that, but he does release a sigh, "okay. So for context, Mr. Moon wanted the cake to be one or two tiers, but I went with one, cause there aint no way I'm going to the other side of the campus to freeze a two tiered cake. Then, the theme was something from your childhood, so, I, uh, thought this was fitting. The exam is 60 percent decoration, 40 percent taste by the way."

Mark gives me a hesitant look, but steps way for me to see it. I then see a heart shaped, medium sized cake in my favorite pastel pink color. By the top there's a little boy on the floor playing with a toy oven set and little girl in a bumble bee dress, holding a stethoscope. At the bottom of the cake, there were jelly letters spelling out, "I like you."

I cup my cheeks at the sight of it and feel my eyes start to well at the sentiment.

Wait... was this really happening?

Mark heaves in and out, "okay, so like when Jaehyun began to like hit on you, that sucked pretty hard because he's known for getting girls and I thought maybe he'd get you too and I got panicky. Anyway, I....... have liked you since we were kids... And... I know you probably don't feel the same way but I have to try, you know.... Yolo."

My feel my tears retract from what I hear. I rub my eyes. I turn to Mark and find his nervous face. "Did you just say yolo in your confession, Mark?"

He looks like he's about to throw up.

I can't help but chuckle and pout, "dude..."

I prolong the moment. Mark gets even more nervous as he repeats softly, "dude..."

"We could have dated in grade school all this time."

It takes a moment to register in his head.

Like, a really long moment.

I sigh, "Mark! I like you too, dummy."

He freezes and blinks. His face begins to burn. He breaks into a soft smile, "nice."

I break into a laugh.

"... Uh... So... Can I like... Kiss you?"

I snort and feel my own cheeks begin to burn, "I think you should refrigerate your cake first."

Mark snaps out of this trance, "oh shoot, you-" I give him a quick peck on the lips.

He is dumbfounded.

I feel butterflies go wild in my stomach.

"I'll wait over there for when you've fixed that."

Mark watches as I walk away, "yooo.... That's not fair though."

[youamongthemelissas]

hi mwah <3

may i have a scenario with zoro being a brat who doesn't want to go down on his girl, but she just puts in his place by sitting on his face? 👀

ara ara, it seems that the fifteen hours I've been sleeping have made me reap the rewards uwu

well, I really hope you like the result and that those 3,3k words make up for the delay in my writer's block. i've only reviewed it a few times because i'm really really sleepy right now, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes! :(

warning: oral sex (giving and receiving), fingering, face sitting, etc. only for +18. smut everywhere

Zoro and I had known each other for almost two years, but he changed his position from hookup to boyfriend two months ago. Our chaotic relationship started at a horrible party. Everything that night was horrible, except when the handsome guy approached me offering his help when some ramshackle human being spilled water on my shirt. To complete my disaster, the outfit I wore was white and cotton, so it marked the contours of my breasts just right. Damn day I decided to leave my house without wearing a bra. Too embarrassed, I just crawled into the bathroom – which didn't even have a lock – and waited for the crowd to dwindle or for my shirt to dry so I could get out of that unhealthy place. But fate didn't have the best plans for me, as I saw the bathroom door open and a man enter that cubicle.

"This is the ladies' wc, you know?" I informed the guy angrily.

“I know,” he replied simply. "I saw the whole scene, so I decided to come make sure you're okay."

I arched my brow and stared at him with half-closed eyes. Was he feeling okay? I looked for signs of drunkenness in him, but his voice was steady and he looked too sober.

“Very nice of you, but you can't just lock yourself together with a strange woman in a cubicle. You know, I can interpret this as sexual harassment!” I snapped.

“Oh, fine. I was going to lend you my shirt so you could wear it and wouldn’t have to wait for yours to dry, but I see you don't need my help. Bye and sorry for the inconvenience,” and so he left, not giving me a chance to respond.

I cursed the Universe, but then I stopped myself because a tarot reader had informed me that a situation like this could happen throughout the week and I didn't listen. In the end, it was my fault for being a stubborn and skeptical one.

I really couldn't tell how long I was locked in that fetid cubicle, but when my t-shirt dried enough not to leave me practically naked from the waist up, I walked out and saw the same guy as before, he was talking to a red haired girl, actually it looked more like an argument was going on between them by his annoyed expression and her restless gestures. Would she be his girlfriend? Was the discussion focused on me and the bathroom incident? Well, I wouldn't stay there to find out and risk getting hit by the girl for something that wasn't my fault. He was the one who entered the ladies' room with an unknown woman!

And my disastrous night ended when I lay in my bed and turned off the light to finally sleep and erase all memories of the party from my head. But that boy's face has not left my mind.

The days followed normally, and when I was already forgetting the cool guy, I saw him for the second time in a bakery. He wore the same shirt that day of the party and sweatpants. His sleepy face gave away that he had just woken up and had just left the house to go buy bread for breakfast. He saw me but pretended not to. I got the feeling I should have apologized for the misunderstanding, but he was already making the request. Luckily, we were assisted together as soon a second attendant appeared who assisted me as well.

As soon as we paid the bill, we silently left the place and I got a chance to talk to him as we were heading in the same direction.

“Hey,” I called him, being ignored. "Boy, wait a minute"

“What is it, girl?”, he snapped at me sharply.

“I wanted to apologize for the misunderstanding… Seriously, I was just freaked out by a guy walking me into the bathroom…”, I was sincere.

"It's all right. Go on with your life in peace.”

“And you had a girlfriend, right? Like, you were still wrong in the end…” I couldn't hold my mouth before needling him.

This time he stopped abruptly and turned to me, making me smack my face into his chest.

"Girlfriend? First you accuse me of sexual harassment and now besides being a harasser you think I'm a traitor?”

“I didn't accuse you of anything! Except the girlfriend part. You and that red haired girl seemed to be fighting really bad, like boyfriends do,” I clarified.

“Redhead girl?” he seemed to search his memory for what I was referring to. “Nami? God forbid me dating that devil woman! She's not my girlfriend, and we were fighting because…”, he stopped mid-explanation. “This is none of your business, girl. But she's not my girlfriend,” he ended the pseudo-argument.

I nodded and went on my way.

“How long will you follow me? Now I can interpret that you're a deranged stalker”, he told me right after we turned down the same street, after walking close for a few meters.

“I'm not following you, my house is on this way”, I replied.

And that's how I found out that we lived in the same condominium.

Although I clearly remember the first two times we met, I can't say when exactly we started to change our cat-and-mouse relationship and elevate it to a more intimate one. Maybe it was when he fucked me for the first time in the laundry room in the building. I was taking my clothes out of the machine while he put his clothes in another one, and then we looked at each other and as if we had the same idea, he grabbed me around the waist and lifted me up to put me sitting on top of the machine he had just finished stuffing with his own clothes, putting it to work and taking me in a kiss while taking off my panties. When he entered me, I moaned loudly, but the sound was drowned out by the shrill noise of that old machine. Zoro confessed to me later that he chose precisely that one so my moans could not be heard. I think it was the most insane thing I did, because at any moment someone could come and catch us, but luckily for us that only happened after Zoro had cum on my thighs and taken me off that old thing. It was weird walking with my legs sticking together because of his cum, but I didn't have time to clean up, just lift my panties and straighten my skirt before passing the newcomer, who didn't seem to have noticed our presence.

After our first sex, we didn't get apart anymore. We couldn't be alone as we caught fire and had sex wherever we were.

As time went by, we calmed down and our meetings became more spaced, but our chemistry didn't extinguish even a little bit during these almost two years, on the contrary, it only earned us the beginning of dating. And we became more than just hookups, we became friends too, those who know about each other's lives and I got to know Nami, the red-haired friend he was fighting that night at the party. I came to discover that they could never be boyfriends, because she loved money and women.

Everything with Zoro was almost perfect. He was a good boyfriend, and even though we're two hotheads, we never fought. There are always dialogues in our relationship and this helps a lot to avoid unnecessary fights. Besides, sex is wonderful, everything just right, except for one small thing that bothers me. We combine a lot in bed, I always try to please him and give him pleasure at all times. I've lost count of how many blowjobs I gave him and how many times I let him cum in my mouth, but the problem is that he never even gave me oral sex. And that makes me a little frustrated and scared. Was the problem with me? I took good care of myself, but he always shifted position when I tried to get him down on me.

One day, while I watched him playing his favorite game, I stroked his hair.

“Babe?”, I called him.

“Hm?” he mutters, not moving an inch.

“Do I disgust you?” I asked bluntly.

"What? Where did you get this ideia?”, he turns abruptly to face me, doing something wrong in the game because soon there are some curses directed at him in the chat.

“It's just a question.” I shrugged.

“It can't be just a question. For you to ask me that, there's definitely a reason behind it,” he replied, no longer looking at the TV screen, and not realizing that he was being offended by the other players. Damn virgins.

“Nevermind…”, I hesitated, unable to let myself be affected by the comments, which weren't even for me. "Your game friends are very angry with you."

"Fuck them, the issue here is you.", he held my face with both hands, making me look at him. “Tell me what made you think about it,” he looks deep into my eyes, almost reading my soul and I immediately regret opening my mouth. But it was too late, lying was out of the question, because he knows very well when I lie, so I had no choice but to tell the truth.

“You never gave me an oral. So I deduced that the problem is with me”, I said at last and he let me go.

It was his turn to shift the focus to another corner.

“It's nothing to you, it's me who is the problem. I've never done that to any women, and in the movies I see them “squirt”, what if that happens?” He looked a little frustrated and embarrassed.

I got up from my seat and stopped standing in front of him, making him glare at me.

“You have to stop thinking real life is a big porn movie, Roronoa,” I said, putting my index finger on his forehead. “I really admire you knowing how to fuck without looking like a caveman”, I said that last sentence more to myself.

“Hey!” he heard and seemed offended. "It hurts, okay?"

“Sorry, but that is nothing but the truth”, I rolled my eyes.

Even though he didn't suck me when we had sex later, the seed of doubt was already planted in his head.

I know this, because days later he was more committed to making me cum. Before he seemed to care only about his pleasure, but after our conversation, he even put his fingers to work on my clit – which were presented by me –, as he moved in and out of me, until I came on his fingers. It felt good, but I wanted to feel his tongue down there, and wanted to see his head between my legs. I wanted so badly to squirm in pleasure beneath him as he sucked everything I had to offer him.

When the dream day finally arrived, all my thoughts turned opaque as I felt him hug me from behind and lean his body against mine as his lips found the skin of my neck.

“Do you know how hot you look wearing my shirt?” he asked huskily, pressing me closer to his body, making my ass fit into his crotch. And I already felt it was hard. "Even more so I know you're not wearing anything under it."

I couldn't hold back the moan as I felt his fingers travel up my waist until they reached my breasts under the fabric. He squeezed it first and then circled the nipple with his finger, making it hard. He knew how sensitive I was in that area. And to my delight, he lowered his other hand to between my legs, and slid it to find my sex, which was already starting to get wet.

When I was in his apartment, I liked to have just one piece of clothing. Walking around his house half-naked was one of the most satisfying things for me, because I knew that anytime we were going to get laid and being too undressed would get in the way of the process. So I opted to wear just a pair of panties or a T-shirt with nothing underneath, as was the case now.

He removed his hand from my body and pulled me away, but only to pick me up and take me to his bed, where he laid me down and leaned over me and started kissing me.

His kiss tasted like the whiskey he drank a few minutes ago. I ran my hands over his body and scratched him lightly on his back, inside his shirt. He ended the kiss and rolled off of me, but only to undress. I watched the scene intently, looking at each piece of skin that was revealed to me little by little. When he took off his underwear and his cock popped out, I felt my mouth water. He was there in front of me, completely naked.

I got rid of his t-shirt I was wearing and crawled until I was close to his body, took his hard member in my hands and started masturbating before putting it in my mouth. Unconsciously, I reared my hips up, and ran my tongue over the glans, tasting the pre-cum. Without waiting, I felt him lean over to smack my ass, and it made his cock almost hit my throat, making me gasp. I pulled it out of my mouth, gasping for air, but went back to sucking on it. When I relaxed, I put him in one piece and this time I got used to that intruder so deep, and I heard him grunt. He loved when I swallowed him like that, but before I could make him cum, he gently withdrew from my mouth and lay down on the bed, turning me to stand beside him.

He kissed me again and wrapped his hands around my waist and slid them to my ass, where he slapped my ass, making me moan into his mouth.

We made out until he was on top of me, making me feel his hard cock on my thigh as he kissed my neck and played with my nipples.

I was already throbbing with lust, and it got worse when he slid his fingers to my clit and touched his fingertip to that sensitive spot, making me arch into him. But he did nothing but tease me, and I wanted him to use his tongue this time to bring me to orgasm. For that reason, I forced his head down and he got the message, surprisingly trailing kisses down my body, but before he got there he stopped and returned the kisses to where they were before, leaving me frustrated.

I sighed in annoyance, and shifted our positions, getting on top of him. I positioned myself right on top of his cock, and I fit my pussy there, not to slide him inside, but to rub myself there. He liked my boldness a lot, but I abruptly left the place until I was positioned right in his mouth. I felt him startle under me, but it was too late because I was already sitting pretty well in his face, with my cunt snug in the place where I always wished it was. He showed no resistance, just ran the tip of his tongue over my clit and I closed my eyes, sighing.

At first, he was stuck and a little lost, but little by little he got used to it and now his whole tongue passed through my intimacy, sometimes sucking painfully. It was good for me and it was good for him too, because I felt him grip my thighs tightly, holding me in place as he penetrated me with his tongue. I saw stars. When he smeared the entire place and when my body showed signs of the first orgasm, nimbly and using a little force he took me off him and put me back on the bed, with my back to the mattress. I thought he had given up, but he again slid down my body and positioned himself between my legs, giving me that wonderful sight. Again he pressed his tongue against my clit.

Seeing him there, with his head buried in the place I'd always dreamed of, made a fire burn in my stomach, and my brain worked tirelessly on the new sensations his mouth was gaving me me.

And he looked very committed and thirsty. He was like someone who had gone days without even a drop of liquid and who had just found an inexhaustible source of pure water. And I was that source. And just the thought of having him thirsty for me was enough to give my boner more ammo and make my hips start working nimbly, looking for more contact. Zoro shaved every day, but there were already two that he didn't shave, so the growing hairs scraped the inside of my thighs when I moved my hips, leaving goose bumps.

His tongue explored every corner of my intimacy and his arms closed tightly around my legs as he brought one hand to one of my breasts and rested it there, squeezing every now and then as my body showed signs of orgasm.

He didn't let go of me when I came for the first time or when I screamed for the second. Instead, he circled my waist with his arms and held me immobile in place as he sipped every drop that dared escape from me. He showed no signs of satiating even when I scratched his shoulders or slapped him in the arms to get him to let go. In fact, it felt like it was just an extra boost for him when I was on the verge of madness, writhing in his mouth and thrashing around aimlessly for support and control of the spasms in my body.

He was both a sadist and a masochist at the same time, which is why I was so attracted to him.

When he released me, I was almost voiceless and completely shaky. I wouldn't be able to form an intelligible word, and his playful smile, which I saw blurred due to the tears pooling in the corners of my eyes, gave away his satisfaction at seeing me in that state.

When I finally composed myself and my heart stopped beating in my chest, pulse, and throat, I took a deep breath and stared at him. He was lying beside me, looking at me and running his hand down my face, lovingly.

“You look beautiful when you're coming”, was the first thing he said.

“You look handsome between my legs”, I returned the answer in the same tone.

He smiled and massaged his jaw, as if in pain.

“Too bad it takes so long to cum, my chin hurts”, he complained and I rolled my eyes.

“You didn't leave me after my first orgasm,” I accused. “For those who were afraid of giving me oral sex, you seemed to enjoy it a lot”, I continued, with a pout.

“I had no idea you were that tasty,” he said, smiling slightly. “Now you better get ready, because your taste has gone straight to the top of my favorite flavors”, he assured me, as he pulled me by the waist to glue my body to his.

I kissed his lips softly, and touched our foreheads, and he kissed me again, obscenely. It didn't take me long to be on my knees for him, determined to reward him for the multiple organs he gave me.

Seeing him from above, with his eyes closed and his expression filled with pure delight, made me want to feel his cock in the back of my throat to the point of gasping for air. But he refused to cum inside my mouth. He lifted me up and positioned me on all fours on the bed and placed the condom on his cock.

When he sank into me, I moaned loudly, too happy that my sex life with my boyfriend was perfect.