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anjuschiffer · 1 month ago

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Tick Tock, Time's A Ticking - Chapter 2

3 years...I swear I didn't mean to forget about this fic QQ

Tags: @toodaloo-kangaroo @vixen-uchiha @startouchedqueen1318,

AO3 | PREV

“We have to help them.” Roy quietly said, his eyes not leaving the screen of the television despite Joker's broadcast already having ended. At that moment, Roy was grateful for not skipping over the international channel as he was skimming through the television to see what was on. The static that followed the broadcast slowly filled the silent room, Roy managing to block out the noise.

He had decided to drop by Oliver’s to pick up a few things before going onto the road again. Instead, Marinette’s blood-covered face now haunted his mind.

The way her eyes tried to hide her fear, only to show it the split second before she was thrown to the side. How her lifeless body got ingrained into his memory, replacing the memory of the bubbly girl he just video chatted and had a four hour conversation with just a few days ago.

They had planned on meeting up tomorrow…

“Roy. You know we can’t just drop-“ Oliver tried to reason.

“Are you telling me to turn a blind eye from this shi-“

“No, no, no, no.” Oliver walked over to Roy, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I understand the feeling of wanting to go and find her, but we’ve got to remember. Gotham is Batman’s-“

“Who cares if Batman gets pissed at us for going over to help him! Marinette is my friend and I’m willing to fight that bastard if it means saving her!” Roy yelled, not noticing he wasn’t sitting down anymore. “They’re going to need someone with their head still attached to their bodies and you know that.”

Oliver fought back a huff, running a hand through his hair because for once...Roy had a point.

He couldn’t believe he was doing this.

When had he gone soft?

“Pack your things. Gonna warm up the zeta tube.”

Oliver watched as Roy nodded and quickly went to grab his things, his demeanor more stern and focus. More so than usual.

“A friend, huh?”

——

“I know you want to search for her, but head to the cave first,” were the first words that were told towards Jason when he called his brothers as he made his way out one of his bases.

While he wanted to just go out and kill the asshole of a clown who had dared lay a finger on his sister, he knew he shouldn’t go in blinded by rage.

“Where the fuck is he?” Jason gritted, scanning over Gotham's map displayed on the computer within the Cave once he got there, his eyes darting from corner to corner. Tim’s notes on Joker’s sightings caused his rage to burn even more, taunting him as his head racked no answer on Marinette’s location.

Why couldn’t today be just like any other time they would hunt the clown? Why couldn’t they find him within minutes, just like any other week?

Why did he have to be two steps ahead of them this time? Why did he have to hide himself completely from the map, disappear without a trace? Why now?

Dick watched as Jason continued to scowl, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Jason, we’re going to find her. Babs and the girls are already searching for her, Damian’s also helping with the-“

“And what if we don’t?” Jason cut Dick off, his eyes never leaving the screen. “What if we don’t find her in time?”

“We are.” Dick firmly stated, his grip on Jason’s shoulder tightening. “B won’t let that ever happen again. Ever.”

Those words seemed to do something to Jason, Dick feeling him both relax before tensing up.

Thinking that Jason took his words the wrong way, Dick was prepared to say something else when Jason cut him off.

“The fuck are they doing here?” Jason muttered, Dick quickly looking at the screen as well, his eyes narrowing upon seeing an ever so familiar duo wandering through the streets of Gotham. Damn Tim and his cameras picking up on every little thing that happens in Gotham. “Pops is going to kill them if he- and he found them.”

“Think we should-”

“Probably.” Jason said, walking towards his bike, picking up his helmet along the way. “Who knows what Pops might do to them. Oi, Stalker!”

Jason didn’t need to look at Tim’s way to know he was glaring at him. “Keep us updated.”

“We’ll be back with her, Little Wing.” Dick reassured Jason, grabbing his own keys for his bike. “You know she won’t go down without a fight.”

With the silent agreement between the three brothers, Jason and Dick went off to make sure the intruders of Gotham didn’t get killed the moment B snapped.

“What the hell are you two doing here unannounced?” Batman gritted through his teeth, Oliver trying not to get overwhelmed by his masked rage. Sure, he’s seen Bats pretty pissed, but this was a new level. Then again, he expected this much.

It was his daughter that was being held captive after all. “This is Gotham, my city, not yours. Get out.”

“We’re here to help.” Roy stepped up, standing between Oliver and Batman.

“Don’t need your help. Leave.”

“Bruce,” Oliver said softly, slowly approaching Batman, no, Bruce. “It’s going to be fine.”

“It’s not going to if I keep wasting my time having to get you to leave Gotham. You came here unannounced, armed, and undetected until now. What makes you think-”

“It was my decision to drag Oliver into this, Bruce.” Roy cut off. “This isn’t just another kidnapping. This isn’t about any Gothamite. This is about Marinette.

And she’s not just your daughter, Bruce.

She’s my friend too. And I want to help you look for her.”

“I don’t need your help. I need you to leave so that we can-”

“None of you are in your right minds right now and you can use at least one head that isn’t-”

“We can handle this.” Bruce said, his voice booming. “We don’t need outsiders-”

“Marinette went out of her way to pay for my rehabilitation treatment when we met in New York those months ago. ” Roy watched as Bruce stood there silently, as if allowing him to continue. “She was there, by my side when Oliver wasn’t, when Dick couldn’t be…

She would reschedule her meeting with her clientele when it was time for my appointments, talked with me when I would start to back out…she was there…even when I didn’t want her to be there…

She was there every step of the way despite living in Paris -which might remind you is across a whole fucking ocean!” Roy looked Bruce straight in the eyes. “So what kind of friend would I be if I’m not at least trying to help find her?

Is this how I will repay her for all those times she waited outside the rehab center? Outside my operating room?” Roy could hear his voice rise in volume with every word he spoke, but he didn’t care. “My hospital room when I would relapse and be found on a curb? Is this how you want me to repay your daughter for her kindness?

By spitting at it?” Roy waited for an answer, but got none. “So please, let me help you. Let us help you find her, as not only her friend, but also yours.”

Before they could even get an answer from Bruce, they picked up the faint sound of bikes getting closer.

The three turned as the sound got louder, Roy narrowing his eyes when he saw Dick and Jason get off the bikes and headed towards them.

“This isn’t going to end well, is it?” Oliver murmured, hoping he and Roy would live to see another day. “Think they’re here to help us?”

“Hopefully.” Roy said, “if not, we’re going to have to fight our way in.”

The class watched as Joker paced back and forth, his eyes never straying from Marinette.

Adrien had been released shortly after the vile broadcast Joker had done, glaring at the clown as they all awaited for Batman’s appearance.

“I can feel your eyes, blondie.” Joker flatly said, not bothering to turn towards Adrien. “Glare all you want, it’s not going to help you one bit.” Adrien huffed, now turning his attention towards Marinette.

Her face was covered in dried blood, her hair unruly and her clothes covered in dirt and splotches of blood. New bruises were starting to finally set in, like the one on her temple. Older bruises like the one around her neck were starting to turn a shade darker. Her wrists were red due to being suspended in the air by some chains that looked years too old. The rust slowly chipped off, falling down the floor below.

She didn’t deserve this, not one bit. Not when she and her family have been helping him ever since he told her about his living situation.

“This is all Marinette’s fault.” Lila whispered, interrupting his thoughts. “It’s all that-“

“Don’t you dare say that!” Adrien hissed, causing everyone to flinch. They’ve never heard him yell, ever.

Yes, they’ve heard him raise his voice, but yell?

It was new…unsettling… “If anything, this is all your fault that we are in this situation! If you hadn’t gone off with your stupid lies on how you were a relative of the Wayne's -which by the way, you aren’t- we wouldn’t be in this mess!”

“My fault?” Lila scoffed, everyone torn between trying to get her to calm down or let her continue.

After all, some of them still wanted to trust her. Yes, they didn’t fully understand the argument between Lila and the Joker that well, but they were still able to pick up a few English phrases here and there.

And from what they picked up, Lila had lied to him. And seems like she had lied to them as well…

What else has she been lying about? “Who was the one who arranged this trip in the first place? Certainly wasn’t me! Last time I heard, it was that bitch’s fault!” Lila failed to see the wide eyes from her classmates and the series of gasps. “It’s because of her that we’re-“

“Shut your mouths!” Joker seethed, glaring at Lila. “Especially you!”

The classes split like the sea did for Moses when Joker approached them. “To think that I actually bought your words when I should’ve smelled them from a mile away! After all, you stink of lies and misery!”

“What do you know-” Lila started, only to stop when Joker gave her a feral grin.

“Doesn’t take much to recognize a fellow liar. After all, it takes one to know one, sweetheart.” Joker said, leaving the class in turmoil.

Just as Joker was going to continue to shout at Lila, Marinette began to stir, causing Joker to smile.

“Rise and shine darling!” Joker grabbed Marinette by her hair, a weak yelp leaving her. “Guess who has to look their best since daddy dearest is taking his sweet time getting what I want?”

“-already said she didn’t know.” Tim heard Roy say towards Jason, watching the two set their helmets on the seat of their respective motorbikes.

As soon as Dick and Jason were able to help Oliver cool off Bruce, Oliver suggested that the five split up and scout the streets to look for the class and Marinette. If they found nothing, everyone had to rendezvous at the Cave. Although, that was better said than done.

Dick was the first to arrive an hour after having separated from the rest, Oliver and Bruce following shortly after. Then half an hour later, Roy and Jason arrived.

“Probably saying it because she’s back with him again.” Jason muttered, taking off his mask as he approached the small group huddled by the debriefing zone. “That or Harley might have had a minor role in this in exchange for something he has.”

Seems like Jason and Roy’s interrogation with Harley wasn’t fruitful.

Tim and Dick exchanged a glance before looking at Oliver, who shook his head.

“I’m guessing you found nothing on your end either.” Dick stated, causing Tim to huff in frustration. “Ivy didn’t know anything either when I went to her place, although she did mention Joker being more unhinged than usual.”

“Not surprised.” Oliver said, taking out a vile and placing it on the table. “From what Victor told us, it seems like Joker has been paying visits to Scarecrow again. Something about Scarecrow wanting to test out a new toxin in the making.”

“Cat, know anything about this?” Dick asked through his earpiece, waiting for Selina’s answer.

As soon as Selina saw that broadcast, she also started to help with the search, bumping into Damian as she looked for the lost kitten. She immediately teamed up with her other beloved kitten, much to his distaste.

“Just learned about this from you guys. What about you, kitten?” Dick heard her ask Damian. “Know anything about this?”

“I told you many times, it’s Robin. And no. I also just found out about this.”

Dick let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. This wasn’t looking good.

Just as Dick was about to bring up their next phase, the Batcomputer went off, the alert blinking once before opening up a video call.

“She wasn’t at the Basin.” Steph announced through the live, “then again, I haven’t heard from Cass yet. Perhaps she found something-“

“She’s here.” Cass interrupted. “I found her...doesn’t look good. Going to need medical help.”

That’s all it took for the family to go into motion, Bruce barking orders, only to be overridden by Oliver.

“Aren’t you forgetting that Joker not only has Mari, but also her entire class?” Oliver challenged. “You can’t just-”

“Marinette-”

“Bruce, I know. We all know.” Oliver cut off. “As much as I want to prioritize Marinette’s rescue, Joker has an entire class hostage as well.” Bruce grumbled. “We don’t have a moment to waste! Let’s move!”

But before they could go, another alert went off on the Batcomputer, making them stop in their tracks.

Without delay, a broadcast started to play.

“Brucie!” Joker’s voice echoed through the Cave. “It’s been an hour!” He sang, the camera following him. “Seeing as you’re taking your precious time getting me Batsy, I thought of getting your precious daughter to help convince you to speed up the process.”

The camera then shifted to what seemed to be a gas chamber, the blue tinted glass making it semi-difficult to see inside.

But with one shine of light piercing it, anyone would have recognized the person sitting behind the glass.

And everyone in the Cave did; without a second to waste, they ran.

Marinette woke up to an aching headache, her head ringing in pain. Just as she managed to open her eyes, she noticed the blue tinted room around her…or rather…the blue tinted glass that separated her from the rest of her class…and Joker.

Why would-

It didn’t take long for Marinette to figure out where she was. She tried to get up, only to realize her hands and feet were bound to handcuffs behind her and to the floor respectively.

She began to violently shake her hands free, feeling her breaths became slightly uncontrollable when she realized the lack of wiggle room on her ankle.

Seems like she was strapped to her chair.

She tried to stand up, only to feel the chair pull her down…bastard made the chair weighted…

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Joker sang, standing in front of her. “You’ll just make me want to start the show earlier than when I need to!” He warned her. “Instead, why don’t you greet our viewers!” The clown grinned as he turned his back to her.

Marinette looked past him, noticing the camera and the guns pointed to her classmates. She noticed as some of them were frozen in fear, others holding in tears of frustration.

This is all my fault. “Marinette, dearest. The viewers are waiting.” He reminded her. “But! If you don’t want to greet them, that’s okay! Why don’t you, instead, remind your father-”

“Why don’t you try to find Batman yourself?” Marinette retorted. “Too lazy to track him down that you resorted to having to have a hostage to make him come to you?

It’s been, what? 10 years and you have yet to figure out his weakness?” She let out a scoff. “Some villain you are.”

“That wasn’t the correct answer.” Joker sneered, only to grin shortly afterwards. “And for your information, I do know his weakness: you.”

A hiss sparked from the sides of the room, Marinette turning her head, seeing nothing surrounding her. She smelled nothing out of the ordinary, causing her anxiousness to rise. “My, my. For such a smart-mouthed little girl, you’re not exactly the best at connecting the dots, are you?”

“What are you-” Marinette felt her heartbeat pick up the pace, noticing her vision begin to throb. The tips of her hands felt warmer than usual, her feet feeling heavier by the second.

She tried to hear what Joker was trying to say, but the noise buzzing in her ears made it hard to catch the words.

She kept picking up small noises around her, making her turn head to see what was causing them, only to find nothing.

She turned her attention back to Joker only to find him gone. But that wasn’t the only thing gone.

She was no longer inside the room, no longer bound by the hands nor feet.

But despite the lack of restraint, she remained seated as she looked past the camera that was left on.

There, just feet away from her were her classmates, laying in their own pool of blood…

Adrien’s lifeless eyes looked back at her with tears still in his eyes, his hand reaching out for her…

Then she felt a breath right next to her ear.

“I thought you said you were going to fix everything.” The voice told her, a voice she thought she had long forgotten…a voice that sounded just like Adrien’s, yet…a voice that wasn’t his.

Chat Blanc… “I thought you still wanted me…

I thought you still needed me…” She felt her heartbeat quicken with each word he spoke. “I thought I was still your partner…”

The voice made its way in front of her, materializing into the Adrien of her nightmares, his blue eyes looking down on her. “I trusted you, Marinette…so why?” He growled, wrapping his hands around her throat, Marinette feeling his claws dig deep into her skin, feeling it pierce her throat and closing her airway.

“Why did you let me die, My Lady?” She couldn’t hold it in anymore.

She screamed.

Everyone watched as Marinette screamed apologies as she tried to kick something away from her, eventually knocking herself over.

What was going on?

She was fine just moments ago.

They watched as she was talking to Joker when she suddenly grew quieter, watching as she looked around, her eyes darting to every corner.

She suddenly looked in their direction with wide eyes and the next, she began to scream and cry hysterically, causing Joker to laugh alongside her agony.

“Oh my! This is better than what I expected!” Joker continued to laugh, turning to face the camera. “But we’re just beginning!” Joker brought over a spinning wheel, several nicknames written on it. “With every ten minutes that Batman isn’t here, I will spin the wheel and see who will be our next vic-”

Suddenly, the lights began to flicker before permanently dimming, Marinette’s screaming still going on in the darkness. “Who goes there?” Joker demanded an answer, his cheerful attitude gone. His eyes scoured the darkness, trying to pick any type of silhouette in the shadows that didn’t belong to his henchmen.

A goon next to the class suddenly dropped to the floor, his gun hitting the floor with a thud. “Show yourself!”

But no one responded. Instead, his henchmen started to fall or disappear one by one, the class huddling closer together as some other them started to fight their assailants in the dark. “Will somebody turn the goddamn lights back on?” Joker spat the order, moving closer to the chamber Marinette was still screaming out of.

Not a second later, they heard glass come crashing down from above them, the class watching Joker got drop kicked by a person half his size. Judging from the sword that pierced Joker’s shoulder, the class knew it wasn’t Batman who attacked the maniacal clown.

The sound of the breaking glass had signaled more henchmen to appear and soon, the room was soon filled with them and their yells as they fought with the darkness.

“Adrien,” Nino whispered. “Should we-” Adrien shook his head.

This was new territory, there were guns involved, not magic. He couldn’t just guide his friends to their death. And then there was whatever gas Joker had made Marinette inhale in that chamber…

And then there was that: Marinette…

Before Adrien could figure out what to do next, another masked individual appeared before them, cladded in black with a purple hood and cape. The yellow bat insignia on her uniform allowed her to be trusted.

“You’re going to be okay.” She reassured, then realized that only some of them understood what she said, judging by some of them slightly relaxing their shoulders when she said that. “My name is Spoiler. I’m going to guide you out.” She motioned, only to stop when only one person followed her. “Everyone. I need-”

“We can’t leave Marinette behind.” Adrien spoke up, some of the others nodding in response. “She sacrificed herself for our safety. We need to-”

“My job is to help you guys escape,” Spoiler shared, “I need to-”

“We need to get you out of here before we can start saving your friend.” A voice spoke up, the class turning to see yet another vigilante, but this time, she was older than them and in what seemed to be in a spandex outfit. “Your hesitation is risking her safety.”

“Catwoman!” Spoiler hissed. “But, she’s right.” She sighed. “Once you’re all safe, we can start working on rescuing your friend until our backup arrives. So, please…follow me.”

That seemed to convince everyone as they soon followed Spoiler out of the warehouse.

The minute they were out, the class stood face to face with blaring lights and multiple paramedics rushing to their sides. Multiple voices asked them rapid questions in English, overwhelming the Parisian class. But one broody voice stood out among all of them.

A voice that questioned Spoiler, not them.

“Where’s Marinette?” Batman asked, only for five others joining their small rendezvous.

“Is she okay?” The red haired asked, Adrien wondering where he had seen him before.

Spoiler pursed her lips, her mouth opening and closing like a gaping fish. The red haired grabbed her by her shoulders. “Tell us!”

“She’s inhaled Scarecrow’s latest fear toxin…” she spilled, freeing herself from the red hair’s grasp. “And it seems to be more potent than his previous one.” She reported to the group.

“How so?” Batman asked.

“It took seconds for her to become insane and start to hallucinate compared to his previous dose that took a minute…we need to get her out of there before it does any permanent damage to her.”

Roy knew what to expect the moment they arrived at the Funhouse, yet he wasn’t prepared to hear what had happened to Marinette through Steph’s report.

Whatever plan they had spoken of beforehand was soon forgotten and the orders for him to come back fell on deaf ears as he ran into the Funhouse.

He ran past aisles of towering boxes and past the mobs of henchmen that Black Bat and Catwoman were holding off with ease. He saw as Tim joined her, allowing Roy to continue to search for Marinette.

With each stride he took, the louder her screams got and the heavier his anxiety grew.

By the time he got to where she was, he froze.

Marinette had managed to free her legs from her restraints and was kicking the air, screaming apologies to Adrien as she moved her head from side to side, as if avoiding something.

While he couldn’t see her face that well, he knew they were probably drenched in tears and covered in purpling bruises left from Joker’s manhandling.

“What the hell are you doing Harper?” Damian’s yells snapped him from his thoughts. “Help her!”

“Come on Roy,” Jason’s voice came from behind, a slap on his back causing him to step forward. “She needs us.”

That’s all he needed to rush to Marinette once again, helping Jason analyze the chamber, finding the keypad to operate it.

While Jason tried to stop the gas, Roy tried to break the glass but to no avail.

“I’ve got it!” Jason yelled, prompting Roy to help him open the chamber’s doors, causing Marinette’s already loud screams to become louder.

They approached her with caution, Jason going over to try and prop her upright when he locked eyes with her.

Her screams came to a stop before she started screaming again.

“Stay away!” She yelled, trying to create distance between them. “Don’t come here!”

“Marinette, it’s me.” Jason tried to tell her, but he knew she wasn’t able to hear him. “It’s me, Jay.” He tried once again only for Marinette to plead for mercy. “Roy, administer the temporary antidote.” Jason stood up and took a few steps back. “I have a clown to fight.”

Roy watched as he got out the chamber and disappeared from his sight, hearing bullets whiz with screams following shortly after..

Ignoring the mayhem outside the chamber, Roy took out a pouch he had on him and quickly prepared the injection.

He twisted the needle to the barrel and measured the dosage from the vial Bruce had given to him before they left the Cave. Once he withdrew the appropriate amount, he flicked the barrel to let out some air before pressing the plunger to get rid of all the air.

He turned his attention to the now cowering Marinette, her screams now quiet prayers of pleads as she kept Roy in her vision.

“Marinette, I’m here to help you.” Roy softly spoke, seeing her eyes dart from him to the needle in his hand. “I just need-”

“No!” She screamed, “stay away!” She began to kick again. “Stay away!”

Seems like he had no other choice.

He pulled the chair closer to him and pinned her down with his spare hand, making sure to at least stop her from flailing around too much.

Her screams grew louder the minute the needle pierced her skin and Roy administered the antidote. Slowly, Marinette’s screams grew quieter and were replaced by shuddering breaths. After a few seconds, they turned into wails and sobs.

Without a minute to spare, Roy worked on releasing her hands and brought her close to him, cradling her cold body to him.

He brushed her hair away from her sticky face, his heart churned at the bruises scattered around her face and the dried blood on her lips.

He held in a sob as she grasped onto him tighter, her trembling not stopping.

“You’re going to be okay, Marinette.” Roy whispered soft reassurances as he stroked her hair, wanting to take all her pain away and fear that very second.

She didn’t deserve this, not her… “You’re safe now Marinette.

You’re safe.”

#maribat #roynette #bio dad bruce wayne Au #lila salt #class trip gone wrong

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scribblestatic · 3 days ago

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Izuku vs Kacchan 1, but this time, with Preyzuku.

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---

Izuku stands outside the building with Uraraka at his side, both holding the blueprints. She tries talking with him, but he's unable to think of a response, so he doesn't respond. The air around her gets more awkward by the second.

He stares at the papers blankly for a minute before he sighs.

"Uraraka-san, do you have a plan?"

"Eh? Ah, not really yet. I mean, there's no punishment for failure, so I'm not so worried, but..." She cringes. "I'm really not looking forward to facing that Bakugou guy. He's kinda loud and funny sometimes, but he has a lot more than a chip on his shoulder."

"Mm. Well." Izuku looks up toward the roof of the building. "I have one."

"Yeah?!"

"But, for it to work..."

It was purely by accident, okay?!

Look, he read the email. He knew that Young Bakugou and Young Midoriya weren't supposed to be paired up in any way today. However, rewriting his lesson plan for the day would've been catastrophic. He's a pro hero, not a teacher, and so he's definitely got rust in several unused skills that he has to oil up first before he can pull those maneuvers.

Besides, he'd already come up with the randomization method, and with there being a 5% chance of the two being partners, and a 10% chance they'd be against each other. He thought the odds were in his favor! But those kids were either extremely lucky or extremely unlucky, because the possible worst-case scenario was starting to play out in real time!

In this case, it wasn't like he could suddenly say, "Whoops, wrong balls, let me redo this one." Then, it wouldn't be purely random and it would be unfair to the rest of the students. Worse still, perhaps there would be questions of favoritism toward young Midoriya, who was already being scrutinized by the outside world as a quirkless hero trainee.

So, yes, the two students who Eraser Head said shouldn't interact are about to interact. No, he couldn't feasibly think of a way to make that not happen after the competing teams were revealed. Yes, he's a little anxious about it.

But now isn't the time to let any of that show.

So, once the five minutes are up, he cheerily announces the time for the heroes to make their move.

And both groups immediately split up.

Using her quirk on herself, young Uraraka floats up to the fifth floor and, with a bit of jiggling, lets herself in through the window. Meanwhile, young Midoriya sneaks in by picking and unlocking the second floor door from the outdoor stairwell. From there, they begin their search separately.

Meanwhile, young Bakugou immediately stalks out of the bomb room on the fourth floor, clearly looking for something. Young Iida stays behind with the bomb, a frustrated look on his face before he puts his helmet on and gets into the character he's been building up.

As the kids in the room express interest over the slowly closing distance between Bakugou and Midoriya, All Might thinks of the things the latter said during deliberation.

And sure enough, just a few steps away from the inner stairwell to the third floor...

"Before we discuss anything else, there's one thing I know for a fact. Kacchan will come after me. So, we need to split up from the start."

Izuku turns a corner, and he has to jump away just a moment later, a hand bursting with energy swiping past him. The hand cracks the wall he'd been standing near. Izuku rolls to a stop on his hands and knees, facing the other.

Katsuki lifts himself from the dust and rubble, a grin on his face.

"Nice dodging, Deku. Wasn't sure you could do it, but looks like you have some moves after all."

Izuku gets to his feet, crouched and low.

"Well, then, I'll just mess you up enough to not get disqualified!"

Eyes wide and gleeful, Katsuki rears back his right arm.

The speed Izuku showed off during the apprehension test comes into play, the boy suddenly up in Katsuki's space. He grabs him around the grenade-shaped gauntlet covering his forearm. And, with the momentum, he turns, using Katsuki's weight against him.

Katsuki coughs in surprise as his back slams against the ground.

He blinks, the cogs in his brain clicking as he registers what just happened. And once he does, a thick, bubbling anger forms in his chest.

"You..."

But by the time Katsuki has gotten back up and turned around, Izuku is nowhere to be seen.

Even so, he can hear slight footsteps running away.

Gritting his teeth, Katsuki's hands pop, and then he's sailing after his prey. It doesn't take him long to catch back up, seeing Izuku's retreating form.

"Ever the coward, huh, Deku?!"

Pauses his explosions, running a few steps, then flying a little once more, aiming a right kick at the back of his head.

Izuku slides to a stop, bending forward with his effort. It's just enough for Katsuki's foot to miss him. Katsuki lands, then turns, kicking with his left leg. But Izuku's lifted his left arm, guarding his head and body.

Quickly, that same left arm grabs at his calf, the capture tape starting to loop around his ankle.

Katsuki punches with his right fist, and Izuku abandons the idea, ducking and turning under the swing. Katsuki swiftly whirls around, and this time, Izuku is still there, fists up.

"You... You're fuckin' annoying, you know that??"

...

"Whoa, he's holding up super well!" Kirishima praises.

"Midori can really move!" Ashido cheers.

"I wish I could hear what they're saying," Sero laments. "Feels like they're saying some wild stuff."

"By the way, what do you think she's saying to Iida?" Ojiro wonders.

Ochako isn't sure why, but perhaps it's because he did her a solid during the practical exam that she trusts Midoriya and thinks highly of his insight. It was only reinforced when he murmured about the likelihood of Shinsou's quirk. While the boy simply shrugged when asked, he looked surprised when Shouji else suggested it was sleepwalking, having heard Midoriya.

"...Brainwashing, actually. But not far off."

Midoriya had seemed unsettled by his answer, shifting side to side, but that only lasted for the remainder of the deliberation. Regardless, he'd been very close, so Midoriya's clearly a thinker. Not that she isn't, but he seems like the sort to have a plan, another plan, and a contingency for a failed plan.

So, when he suggested this approach to confronting Iida-the-villain, although she was very skeptical of it, she figured it was worth a shot.

Splitting up means you'll likely encounter Iida. He's very straightforward and sometimes loses flexibility. In his movements, his quirk application, and his though processes. He's also earnest. If he really takes this approach like a villain, then find out what kind of villain he is.

Talk to him.

"I come in peace!"

She peeks around the corner to the open doorway, watching Iida startle, surprised by her. But, she has her hands raised up in a nonthreatening gesture. That seems to catch him further off guard.

"Wh... I-I've been expecting you, Uraraka-san—no, Uraraka! Have you come to surrender already?!" He points at her accusingly. "It's right that you should!"

"No, not to surrender. I, ah, just want to talk."

"To...talk? About what? What is there to talk about! I have a bomb that will explode any minute from now! Instead of talking, we should fight, or I will make sure you will lose! Nyahahahaha!"

Ochako's lips quiver, trying her hardest not to laugh at how into his role he's gotten. But, Midoriya was right again. She clears her throat before speaking, keeping her hands in view. He'd said she should do that...but what should she get Iida to talk about?

"Actually, uhm. I was trying to find out...what has motivated you to do this? What cause are you, uh, pursuing?"

"My cause!! My cause is..." Iida pauses. He then crosses his arms. "My cause... Hmm. Right, villains are usually motivated by something, not just being evil for evil's sake. I haven't thought of a backstory for this."

"Oh! Can I help?"

"Are you sure? I mean, you're supposed to capture the weapon. A-And this is—!! We're supposed to be taking this seriously! I cannot let myself get distracted!"

Oh, shoot. "No, no, I am taking this seriously! After all, uhm..."

Keep control of the conversation. You're negotiating for his attention to stay away from fighting, since it's not likely you can beat his speed on your own yet. There's no guarantee I can get to you, so keep him away from fighting as much as you can.

"I-If you don't have a solid reason for being a villain, how can you say you're taking this seriously? I know you want to! If this was a real battle, how could a villain have such flimsy reasoning? You're super cool, Iida-kun! So, let's come up for a reason you're a villain together!"

"...Uraraka-san..."

After a moment, he puts his hand on his chest, touched. Then, his hand balls into a fist, and she swallows thickly.

"You're...right. You're absolutely right. I'm approaching this half-heartedly. Villains don't merely cloak themselves in darkness. They choose the darkness. So, why have I, the villain come to the conclusion that I must use this bomb? We must get to the bottom of this!"

"A-Absolutely!" she agrees, giving him two thumbs up as she sweats underneath her helmet in relief.

...

"Are they just...talking?" Yaoyorozu asks, looking a tad affronted.

"Yeah, they're just having a chat, aren't they?" Aoyama adds, a sparkle in his eyes. "Très décontracté~"

"This is kinda funny. It's like Uraraka-chan has a mind bendy quirk like Shinsou-kun!" Hagakure giggles.

All Might is, admittedly, a little speechless. Though, it's not because talking was a bad idea.

Rather, it was a very, very good one, especially considering the differences in their strength.

It wasn't just that it was a good suggestion from Midoriya, but Uraraka had to also think of how to relate to Iida and draw his attention away from fighting. That, she came up with on her own. That's a flexibility that's not easy to teach to anyone, a great quality for a hero.

Though, judging from what he's hearing, she might be getting a little bit too into it herself. They're coming up with a whole tragic backstory and timeline to evil for Iida's villain persona.

Meanwhile, explosions draw his attention back to the other two, who are very much duking it out like a traditional hero vs villain battle.

Katsuki is growing frustrated.

He's throwing kicks and punches at Izuku, who isn't saying a single thing to him. Even so, either he eats the hit, or he blocks it, or he redirects it. The latter two happen a lot more often than Katsuki would like.

A punch toward his stomach. A palm redirects it, slapping it away.

Another toward his head, despite the helmet. Izuku ducks under it, the explosion from his palm missing its mark.

He spins around to put force behind his kick. Izuku blocks it with his left arm and helmet.

He pulls the leg back and kicks straight. Izuku ducks backwards. Katsuki has to rear back to avoid his feet as he swings them upwards, Izuku landing back on his feet.

"You fuckin' piss me off!"

When Katsuki doesn't move to attack, Izuku stays still, knees bent.

"Tryin' to read me... You think you can change what you are just cause this is U.A.? You better think again, you stalker bastard." Katsuki grins then, that nasty, bubbling feeling bursting with energy in his chest. "Being here's given me some new toys, and it's your lucky day. It's the perfect fuckin' time to test them out, isn't it?"

He raises his right arm.

Izuku flinches, and Katsuki growls.

"Of course you know what this does, huh. Damn creep. Well, it doesn't matter when you can't do jack shit against me, huh?!"

They stand still for a few moments.

Then, Katsuki reaches up with his other hand.

At the same time, Izuku flicks his wrists, pulling out a hammer and a pointed chisel.

Katsuki moves the slot back on his gauntlet.

Izuku rears his hammer back.

Katsuki loops a finger in the pin, hearing a voice call to him from his comm.

Izuku smashes his hammer into the chisel, causing the wall to fracture.

Katsuki laughs as he pulls the pin, aiming toward, but not at, Izuku.

Izuku backs up, raising his leg, presumably to kick.

A bright light flashes from Katsuki's gauntlet, and then...

Explosion.

The hall lights up in a brief, heavy spark of hellfire.

The nearby windows all shatter, and several supporting pillars and walls collapse into rubble. The building shakes, all the way down to and past its foundation and all the way up to the roof.

All of the shadows disappear into light as sunlight streams in through the cavernous hole in the far wall. Bits and pieces of concrete fall from the rebar poking through the concrete.

Up above, Iida and Uraraka startle out of their story planning, some of the floor and wall blasting away. The bomb wobbles precariously, and both rush to keep it from falling over or getting crushed by falling rubble.

Katsuki gazes over the destruction he caused, grinning maniacally. His firepower is stronger than ever like this.

Before he can really revel in his power, All Might's voice rings in his ear.

"Young Bakugou, if you use that move again, you will be disqualified. Destroying your stronghold using massive attacks isn't good for a hero or a villain in this scenario!"

"Tch."

As much as he hates it, All Might has a good point. If the bomb was real, he and the whole block would probably be blown to kingdom come.

But right now, he really needed to put Deku in his place...

Besides, All Might didn't say anything about aiming his attack at Deku.

Realizing this, Katsuki can't help but laugh.

"Damn, today's just fuckin' perfect! Time to put a bow on it, ey?!"

High on adrenaline, he heads over to the hole he saw Izuku make in the wall.

It's much larger than the boy likely intended, partially blown out from Katsuki's explosion. He kicks more of the wall away as he looks around the room, looking for Izuku...

But he doesn't see him.

His expression scrunches. He'd seen the bastard prepping to kick the wall in to get out of the blast range. If anything, the air pressure from his explosion should've helped, maybe even pushing him into the room. So why doesn't he see him?

"What on earth have you done?!"

Katsuki doesn't bother looking up, hearing Iida's voice call out to him. It's not even in his comm. The hole is large and high enough that he must've also hit the fourth floor. That must be why All Might told him not to use his gauntlet again.

"We have a bomb, remember? A bomb! If you wreck the place like this—"

"Oh, shut up already! I know, so do your job and guard that damn—"

But his voice cuts off as someone smacks into him from behind.

Arms slip under his own, clasping over his chest.

As the hands part, capture tape extends from between them.

Katsuki reaches up quickly and grabs one of his wrists, preparing to throw him over his back. But then, a hop, and legs wrap and lock over his hips.

He reaches back with his right hand, clenching it over the side of Izuku's body, and he lets an explosion loose. But his legs only tighten instead of loosening.

So, Katsuki turns his back to one of the nearby walls and rams himself into it. Izuku's right arm starts trying to loop the capture tape around the other's bicep instead.

Another smash back into the wall, and Katsuki lets go of Izuku's left wrist, grabbing his helmet with both hands.

He lets off two large explosions, causing Izuku to stiffen, stunned. His legs loosen just enough, and Katsuki reaches back, grabbing the back of Izuku's jacket.

Gripping both the helmet and jacket, he leans forward and flings the boy off his back.

He lands with thud, but he rolls out the way in time to avoid getting Katsuki's boot to the helmet. Although, now, he's a bit unsteady. Even still, he stumbles into a crouched stance, much like an animal cautiously watching its predator.

"You little... Tell you what, Deku. I'll do everyone a favor and beat you to a pulp here and now. Just enough so I don't get disqualified, and just enough so everyone can see exactly how fuckin' useless you are!"

Izuku stumbles a little again, but then, he reaches up.

With a click, he unstraps his helmet from his head, taking it and the balaclava off. The helmet is letting off streams of dark smoke from the explosions from before. Izuku peers his eyes open to look at it before his gaze flicks up toward Katsuki.

Then, just as quickly, his eyes shut entirely.

He breathes in deeply...then sighs. Tucking the balaclava into the smoldering helmet, he throws both off to the side and, with his eyes still closed, he faces Katsuki.

And he raises balled-up fists.

Katsuki's lips twitch before spreading in an enraged snarl.

"Oh, I'm gonna fuckin' enjoy this."

Katsuki steps forward fist balled up—

"HERO TEAM, WINS!"

—and freezes up.

Up above, Iida had caught the teetering bomb, managing to angle and move it away from falling debris using his arms alone. However, it's during this point that Ochako remembers something from the apprehension test.

Iida is very fast. His quirk is built for speed.

Forward speed.

A smile eases onto he face, and she touches a few fallen bits on and around the floor. She then approaches, creeping up closely.

Iida, sensing her presence, turns around.

"Ah, Uraraka! Right now, this place is—" But he stops, seeing the look on her face. "...So, you've betrayed me after all, hero!"

"No hard feelings, Iida-kun. I really meant it when I said you're really cool, by the way."

"Flattery will get you nowhere! ...Also, thank you, but flattery will get you nowhere! Now that you've shown your true colors, I will escape and let time be the determining factor!"

"Mmhm. And how are you going to do that?"

Iida's smart. He knows that the pillars and rubble now makes escaping to the sides much more difficult than before. Not only that, but the fourth floor is now more precarious, and he has to tread lightly. Even so, he grins behind his mask.

"I will simply blow right through you!"

But instead of backing off, Ochako locks in, her gaze burning with passion as she steadily grows more pale. And Iida falters.

"I... I will rush forward without regard to your safety, as a villain would!"

"Is that really what Tatsuma-san would do? After accidentally becoming a villain from hurting someone while running, would he really try to run at someone full-force?" The strain of holding up several heavy blocks of concrete drags on her quirk, but she keeps up her bravado. "It's one thing to guard a bomb for someone to retrieve to get payment after losing his job. But it's another to actively harm someone again!"

"Y-You! Darn you!"

It wasn't really the story keeping him from bulldozing through Uraraka though. They both knew that. What kept him from doing it was the fact that, in the end, he's a hero. He also isn't like Bakugou, who was itching for the chance to harm someone (Midoriya) as soon as he could.

Iida doesn't want to hurt Uraraka, both as a fake villain and as himself.

Hearing Bakugou say something down below, Iida grumbles under his breath.

He could've possibly turned around quickly and jumped, using his quirk to escape. But now this place was basically Ochako's playground, with lots of ammo available. Moreover, there really wasn't much floor left for him to land on behind him. The gaping hole Katsuki made in the floor assured that.

"What on earth have you done?!"

Iida only turns his head to yell, not looking away from the increasingly encroaching Ochako, who looks a little more sick but is still grinning regardless.

"We have a bomb, remember? A bomb! If you wreck the place like this—"

"Oh, shut up already! I know, so do your job and guard that damn—"

But then, he's interrupted by scuffling. Midoriya seems to be confronting Bakugou yet again. A quick peek down there shows that, yes, Bakugou is again occupied. But he can't look for long.

"Iiida-kuuuun..."

He looks ahead again, Ochako's hands slightly trembling as she pulls the capture tape open, her pinkies raised. Despite the pallor to her skin and her sweating, she looks absolutely menacing.

"...Oh geez."

He fends her off as long as he can.

What ends up getting him is her collapsing to the floor as she heaves.

And just as he tries to jump past her, she hops up, wrapping her capture tape around his leg.

And with him holding the bomb, both he and the bomb count as captured.

Katsuki stands stock still, shocked.

Izuku drops his fists. He then slumps down to sit on some rubble, sighing as the tension drains from his body.

"Wh...at?"

Izuku rubs the back of his neck, feeling the wetness there. Sure, he runs cold, but he sweated more than he'd expected. Asui-san made a good point about the heat retention of his outfit.

"You... What did..." Katsuki grits his teeth, turning toward the ceiling to yell at Iida, but... Well.

Izuku likes Iida-kun. He doesn't want him to get yelled at needlessly.

"Thanks, Kacchan."

That makes the boy pause. He turns back to Izuku. While he can't quite see the expression on his face with his eyes closed, Izuku can see the energy in his chest flickering wildly.

He can also see the other much emptier energy hanging around the large holes in building. And this one has many eyes, from the little glimpse he got of it.

"What do you mean...ah??"

"Thanks. Because of you, Uraraka-chan and I could win."

Izuku steeples his fingers, appearing more relaxed.

"Uraraka-chan would've had trouble catching up to Iida-kun if he had an entire floor to work with. With the way things worked out, you would've won. But thankfully, you made a whole lot of rubble. Perfect ammo for Uraraka-chan, and perfect obstacles for a villain with a pretty straightforward speed quirk. So..."

He lets himself be a little cruel, and he smiles very slightly. His eyes open just a teeny bit, gaze strictly aimed at the leftmost wall.

"Being your punching bag for a little bit wasn't so bad."

The smile stays, even as Katsuki grabs the neck of his jacket, pulling him out of his seated position, hand reared back to let off an explosion right on his bare face.

But he doesn't.

Katsuki processes what he said, and his breathing quickens. Katsuki's red eyes bore holes into Izuku's face, and he keeps his stare to the wall, the little smile still present.

Frozen like that, All Might arrives, telling Katsuki to stop, gathering all the students to the monitor room.

#static writes #dp writes #au post 4 #prey au #bnha au #mha #bnha #izuku can be a little bit of a little shit #as a treat #much deserved tbh

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520cafe · 2 years ago

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sour grapes. cupid and vulnerable nights

a loud knocking sound disrupted the composed and soundless setting which caused dan heng to turn his head towards the source of the sound. hesitantly, he stood up from his chair and cautiously made his way to the door. he wrapped his hand tightly around the door knob and just held onto it, staring at his own reflection. why was he feeling so nervous?

he slowly opened the door and was met with your eyes gazing into his, your lips formed into the shape of a small crescent as you broke the silence with a somewhat tensed chuckle.

“sorry about this, it’s only for one night..” you sighed apologetically, genuinely feeling guilty for having disturbed him. however, dan heng only looked at you with a small smile.

“there’s no need to apologise, it’s just..” he let out a cough and stayed quiet for a moment after trailing his last words. if you were not paying attention to him and not being observant, you would have missed how he broke eye contact with you for a split second before quickly looking back at you. seemingly, he was struggling to find the right words to say. “have you seen my last message?”

“huh? you sent a message?”

it was now dan heng’s turn to feel his heart not sink, but drop to the pits of his stomach. a realisation has came to his mind: his last message was not sent. he only blinked, and blinked once more as in denial to the current situation he found himself in.

“why?… is there anything wrong?” now it was your turn to be puzzled. you watched as he slightly coughed into his hands again as a poorly executed attempt to salvage himself and this unprecedented situation he got himself into.

“it’s just… there’s only one bed. i live alone after all..”

finally, it dawned on you. speechless, you helplessly froze in place as imaginary crows began flying around your head. did i seriously forget that he lives alone?! those thoughts were echoing and bouncing off the walls of your head like a non-stop alarm clock.

the corners of dan heng’s lips slightly curved upwards as he sighed, almost amused by your reaction. he stepped back to make space for you to enter his dorm. “it’s alright though.. i can just take the couch—”

“i can’t let you sleep on the couch in your own dorm.”

before dan heng could even open his mouth to protest, you stepped inside his dorm while removing your shoes and successfully got yourself a place to crash for the night. all he was able to do was to shut the door in defeat and hurriedly chase after you.

opening the door to the living room, he already found you settling comfortably on his couch as he leaned against the door frame. a choir of stars seemed to have shined in his moonlight-blue eyes that softly crinkled upwards as he paid close attention to your every move: it was you who awakened those stars.

“well, i can’t let you sleep on the couch either” his expression remained unchanged as his eyes did not leave you even for a second; the look shadowing his eyes, it felt reassuring and almost awe-stricken. an invisible presence of the mystical love-struck cupid twirled in the same room, dan heng sighed as if he just consumed a love potion of courage.

“if you want, we could just sleep on the bed together?”

an unexpected warmth forwardly made its way to paint your face a flushed pink that was mixed with a convoluted mess of embarrassment and fluster. this would go unescaped to dan heng as he gently chuckled at your reaction, his deep tired voice almost captivating you in a hypnosis.

“don’t worry i didn’t mean it but, i still can’t let you take the couch—”

“it’s okay! we can.. share the bed.”

just like how you two did in the past.

🍇 SOUR GRAPES 〈 10 cupid and vulnerable nights

━━ MASTERLIST. ╱ PREV. ╱ NEXT.

╰► SYNOPSIS. after being in the same tight-knit friend group for over a few months now, suspicions begin to rise when march, seele and bronya start to notice the awkward tensions between you and dan heng. little did they know, you and dan heng were once high-school sweethearts who shared a romantic and fairytale-like past where the pages only lasted for a year. this heartbreak led you to meet another unfortunate victim of cupid but that chapter flew away as quick as stardust. yet, it appears that you two were also destined to cross paths once more.

╰► [ a/n ] : just a heads up, the next few chapters will be written !! i hope you all can stand my writing hhhhh anyway what if i said that i finished making all the chapters for act one 🤭 and i hope you’re all enjoying sour grapes so far <3

━━ TAGLIST. @lauvwar-r @sunsethw4 @shizu-c @amyena @zephestia @loudeggbananaranch @lunavixia @twistedrxses @shinjuuz @danhenglovebot @flos-veritatis @sammy-hammy @kiwidoves @aeongiies @heartswonder @lilactaro @lunnaeclipse @m1lley0ns @hansel-the-pierrot @astro-pioneer @aquatikk @obervation-subject-753 @vellichxrr6782 @rubberduckieyourtheone @viovya @stayriki @ceylestia @starryeyedkoko @theflameofyoursoul @kalims @liminalimmortal

#🍇 ━━ SOUR GRAPES !#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #hsr dan heng #dan heng x reader #dan heng x you #dan heng x y/n #honkai star rail smau #hsr smau #honkai star rail fanfic #hsr fanfic #hsr x y/n #hsr x you #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader

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juyomiao · 2 years ago

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Only ONE - sung hanbin x gn!reader

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

16 ☆ one punch man

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chapter warnings: yn punches someone 😁 , written part is shit omg , yeji is mean im sorry yeji fans im sorry midzys forgive me , one (1) xanax mention

written part under the cut (~ 836 words)

this is not your proudest moment. listening in on someone's conversation, really?

but the need to know what's going on is stronger than any morals you might have. especially when you don't trust anyone in the student council except yourself. and hanbin, but he isn't being exactly cooperative lately.

"beomgyu, you always knew i liked hanbin. why are you acting like this is surprising in any way?" you aren't exactly a genius at recognizing people by their voice, but you can clearly tell that's yeji.

"are you serious? of course i knew, but that doesn't make anything you did correct! you're trying to ruin someone else's life over your feelings, if it wasn't for yn-"

something is telling you to take out your phone and record this. if you're going to snoop in someone else's business, might as well get a confession from the actual culprit out of it.

"there you go, it's always about yn this, yn that… do any of you ever get tired? if they weren't part of the student council this wouldn't have happened in the first place! it's their fault!"

"it's no one's fault but yours, yeji."

there you have your proof, you mentally - although reluctantly - thank beomgyu.

"see? you're on their side too! you hate them just as much as i do, you should be thankful i'm doing all of this!"

yeji dislikes you. you let the information sink in for what feels like an eternity, of course you knew it was like that the moment you found out she was behind all this, but you assumed it was all over her stupid crush on hanbin. no, hwang yeji just admitted she dislikes you.

you were never exactly desperate to be anyone's friend, or to be liked by everyone you met, but both of those things were never hard for you. or at least, you thought so until today.

your brain tunes out the rest of the conversation, as you silently stand right by the door, your phone still recording

"y/n?" a voice snaps you out of your thoughts, you blink quickly a couple of times, meeting woobin's eyes. "are you okay?" you nod with a small smile "yeah, i just…"

you hear faint murmuring coming from the room, the silence enough for you to pick up a small 'they're here?' that clearly belongs to yeji.

you sigh, finally stopping the recording on your phone and hiding it deep into your backpack before something happens to it. you might be a bit paranoid, but with what yeji has been able to pull so far you wouldn't be surprised if she went that far to destroy the major evidence in your hands.

"yn!" and with that, she's back to the normal yeji you know, your friend. "hi yeji," you can't lie for shit, and everyone there can clearly tell something is up, not only between you two, but overall. beomgyu is on the verge of speaking and probably spill every single thing he found out about yeji, but you keep talking before he can "I wanted to talk to you, but you left my texts on read. is everything okay?" if she wants to act fake, you can too.

"oh about that…. i'm sorry, i had some issues with my phone and couldn't answer your texts," somehow, that small lie sets you off "you have issues overall."

"what?" you can see beomgyu trying to hold back his laughter, turning around to face the wall with a hand over his mouth. "you heard me. you have a ton of issues, because whatever stupid crush you have on hanbin, or your hatred for me, or anything else, shouldn't push you to do everything you did."

"i don't know what you're talking about, yn,"

"yes you do. want me to get the chats? or maybe i should get them from your phone," yeji rolls her eyes. it's only for a split second, but you can tell the more you corner her the more her mask slips off, and the truth will inevitably be uncovered.

the following minutes are a blur to you. yeji keeps making excuses, saying your accusations are baseless, until something tips her off. you don't know what it is, she probably doesn't know either, but she admits to everything.

she admits to stealing the money, framing hanbin, being behind the anonymous number, spreading the word of hanbin stealing through the whole school.

"he was the one who offered to help me cover it up! he felt bad i had to resort to stealing, so he said he'd take the blame if anyone found out!"

"and you took advantage of this and made sure everyone found out," you point out.

she keeps making excuses, saying anyone would've done the same in her situation - failing to realize not anyone has the morals of a rock - how you 'shouldn't act like you're so much better than her, you've probably done worse' . you don't know what took over you, but that's your last straw and, before you can think it through, you punch her.

☆ note: this was wayyy too late im sorry pookies :( i hated the written part ,, well ! see u with a new chapter in ,, whenever i have wifi again idk

☆ SYNOPSIS: sung hanbin is everyone's dream guy: perfect grades, perfect looks, perfect personality, he has it all. he's even class AND student council president! everyone loves him, and you, as his vice-president, are no exception to that. having been in love with him since you were 12, you try to tone down your feelings "for the sake of professionalism" and claim it's simple admiration for someone who objectively has no flaws. but there is one small detail you missed, in all these years admiring him: he has an even bigger crush on you.

☆ TAGLIST: (italics = couldn't tag) @hananovi @soobeaniee @idkwatodoanymore @huipinkhair @homohoons @sunnyglower @lethalvenus @sunoksunny @tocupid @deafeningtyrantmilkshake @winteringdream @ikeryn @ilovechanhee @thesiriusmap @heelanat @baekstans @blaycke @vernonfernandez @8turning @yeolsbestie @asteroidchenle @hvnyujiq @hikyeom @r4innoms @enhypen-scholarship @sulkygyu @meowrinz @rikimylove @ridinhyuck @lumixen @neohyxn @ceanairy @beomibeom @cherriegyu @sunwcloud @k4hzuhas @annoyingbitch83 @stickersim @dreamyyn @anawesomeaquatic @softforjungwoo @utopiakys @247hrs @sunswoonie @minhui896 @chanhee-hee @nxurxn @peachysohn @kpoprhia @haesunflower

#☆ li writes #☆only one☆#boys planet x reader #boys planet scenarios #boys planet smau #boys planet fic #boys planet social media au #boys planet fluff #zb1 smau #zb1 fluff #zb1 scenarios #zb1 x reader #zb1 #zerobaseone #boys planet #sung hanbin

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the-bad-batch-baroness · 10 months ago

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Where's Mommy?

Wolffe x Lilith Sestri (OFC)

Part 18

Summary: Wolffe's wife suddenly dies, leaving him a single father in the middle of a war.

Pairing: Wolffe x Lilith Sestri (OFC)

Characters: Wolffe

Tags & Warnings: heavy angst, mention of death, off-screen death, spousal death, grief, hurt/comfort, family fluff, funeral

Word Count: 1.5k

Author's Note: Gonna be honest with y'all, I wrote this chapter this morning before lunch, because the last two weeks have been hectic at work and I haven't had any time. There was an important executive meeting Wednesday and everyone of importance was there, and then there was me 😅 So, yeah, sorry if this isn't up to my usual standards. I'll probably edit it at some point. As always, please enjoy 💚

Beta: @/beating-a-dead-plot

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Wolffe strolled down the streets of Coruscant and followed the coordinates Fox gave him for the nanny service. He was hesitant about hiring a stranger to watch his daughter, but he was more hesitant about leaving her in the sole care of the Jedi in the Temple. Wolffe trusted Plo with his life and his men, but Plo wasn't going to be the one watching Cara, and that was the unsettling part. On the other hand, Fox did mention that he vetted the nanny service, so it seemed safe enough. But it still rolled around in the back of his head like a marble on glass.

Wolffe tilted his head back towards the sky and groaned. He enjoyed life better when he didn't have to make these types of decisions. He was bred to think more outside the box than the average clone, but that was when it came to battle strategies, not babysitting. He knew about war and how to fight one, so he knew how to make those proper decisions, even in a split second on the battlefield under heavy fire, he could make clear and concise choices. However, parenting didn't come with a manual, simulations, target practice, or anything else useful.

Wolffe's comm beeped when he reached the coordinates. He must have been deep in his thoughts to have kept walking and ended up at the location he was headed to without realizing it. Auto-pilot is what everyone called it, but Wolffe called it a death trap. Distractions like that could get him and his entire battalion killed and then Cara would have no one–she'd be a real orphan. The thought made Wolffe shiver. He was going on a simple rescue mission and he'd be right back when it was done. There was no need for him to think those thoughts.

Wolffe looked up at the bright pink and blue neon sign with lines that swirled into odd shapes reminiscent of Galactic Basic letters. He raised an eyebrow at the strange sign and tilted his head to the side to try and read it. Why couldn't people just make signs with normal letters? He squinted in a final effort to read the words, but he shook his head and walked through the door without knowing what it said. If he was at the wrong establishment, he'd turn around, but something about the decor in the lobby told him he was in the right place.

It was a cross between, what Wolffe would consider, a child's play area and a sterile medcenter examination room. It looked and smelled clean, like an exam room, but their decorations were vibrant and colorful, and there were children's toys everywhere. It looked like a controlled clutter and it made Wolffe feel uncomfortable–anxious. He grew up in a sterilized environment with soft white lights, where the only color he ever saw was the dull blue or red of the cadet uniforms. The amount of color in this room made him dizzy.

"Can I help you?" the woman behind the counter asked.

Wolffe snapped out of his daze and approached the counter. The receptionist seemed nice enough–middle-aged, with graying hair, and glasses that reflected the light from the screen she sat behind. "I need a…" he paused. The words felt foreign in his mouth and almost disgusting to say, and he didn't know why. "...a nanny."

The woman grabbed one of the data-pads out of the docking port and handed it to Wolffe. "Start with completing this form."

Wolffe took the data-pad and stared at the woman, waiting for more direction. "Where…"

"You can sit in one of the chairs over there," she said. She stood up and pointed to a row of chairs that lined the far wall.

Wolffe nodded and sat in one of the chairs. It was made of plastic and squeaked under his weight. Even the chairs made Wolffe uncomfortable. Everything about this place made him feel itchy and prickly under his skin. He rapidly tapped his foot on the floor and periodically reminded himself to stop. The clones didn't have nervous tics. Well, at least, clone commanders didn't have nervous tics, and he wasn't sure when he possibly picked one up, but he could guess it had something to do with Cara. He wouldn't even be in this room if it wasn't for her.

Wolffe took a deep breath and started filling out the form. It started with simple information. How many kids–easy, one. Name–also easy, Cara. Date of birth–oh, no. He knew the day Cara was born, didn't he? Wolffe tapped his foot harder. What kind of father was he if he couldn't remember his only child's birthday? Maker, he wished his wife could help him. Then a light bulb turned on. The recording of Cara's birthday had a time stamp. Luckily, he had a good memory, and he input the date and month, and with a little math, he added the year.

Wolffe continued to work on the form. Much of it was simple, but there were more difficult parts, mostly to do with him. It asked for his last name–he didn't have one. It asked for his identification number–he didn't have one. It asked for his occupation–what was he supposed to put? War? Clone? Commander? He decided to leave it blank and move on. It was a dumb question anyway. This was about Cara, not him. Everything else about Cara and his wife was easy to input. It did ask for allergy and pediatrician information, but he didn't have any of that.

Once he completed the form to his best abilities, he brought the data-pad back to the woman at the counter. She took it and started importing the data into their system while Wolffe stood and waited for her to finish.

The woman frowned. "This form is incomplete."

Maker, he just wanted to get out of here. "I put in what I could."

"Your last name?" she asked. She stared at him like he was stupid or something.

"I don't have one," he said. "I'm a clone."

"Hm," she huffed with surprise. "I didn't know clones could have children."

Wolffe huffed. "We're not exactly sterile."

The woman ignored the comment. "I'll just put 'clone' as your last name. It won't let me submit the form without it."

Wolffe sighed. "Whatever works."

"And your daughter is…" she began. "Cara Dalott?" She paused, looking confused. "Wait, as in the Dalott's? The aristocratic Dalott family on the upper level? That Dalott?"

Wolffe gritted his teeth. "Yes, that Dalott."

"I didn't know the Dalott's had a granddaughter," she said while scanning through the rest of the information.

Now, he was getting annoyed. "It wasn't advertised."

"Such a shame about their daughter, Maria, though," she said, not looking up from her screen. "She had so much potential. What a waste."

"Please," Wolffe said. "Don't talk to me about my dead wife."

The woman peered up at him from behind her glasses, then went back to looking at her screen. "There's still some mis–"

Wolffe flattened his palms against the counter and took a deep breath. "Listen, all I need is for someone to live in the Jedi Temple and take care of my daughter while I'm halfway across the galaxy fighting a war! Can you help me or not?"

The woman sighed and placed the data-pad down. "Mr. Wolffe, do you need a live-in, full-time, or part-time nanny?"

"Live-in," he said.

"Species preference?"

"Human."

"Gender preference?"

"Female."

"Age preference?"

"Don't care."

"And when do you need the nanny?"

"Tomorrow, before sunset."

The woman raised an eyebrow. "You just want everything, don't you?"

"Do you have someone or not?" he asked.

The woman pulled out her comm. "I might have one that fits your needs. I'll send her a message and see if she's available to start tomorrow, but no guarantees."

"Thank you," he said. "How much?"

"How long do you need her for?" she asked.

Wolffe shrugged. He could try to guess, but it wouldn't be accurate. "Maybe two or three months?"

"Rates for live-in nannies are 2,500 credits a month," she said. "You want to pay for two or three?"

Wolffe's jaw dropped. Where was he going to get that many credits before tomorrow? This was way more expensive than he thought it was going to be. He hadn't counted, but he probably only had about 500 credits to his name. He could ask around the battalion, but credits were sparse among the clones and to ask his men to fund a nanny for his daughter sounded dumb. He'd have to find another way–some way. Once deployed, he could scavenge up more credits for the next time he needed the nanny. He'd never drink again, but it was a small price.

"Two months, and if I'm gone longer, I'll have it transferred," Wolffe said.

"Perfect," she said, then gave the data-pad back to Wolffe with a stylus. "Sign at the bottom."

Wolffe signed the agreement and gave the data-pad and stylus back to the woman.

The woman's comm dinged and she read the message. "Good news, Mr. Wolffe. I have your nanny. She'll be here tomorrow morning. Your payment is due then."

"Thank you," Wolffe said, and he turned to leave. Now he only had one thing to focus on, where he was going to get 5,000 credits before the morning.

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outofconcheol · 10 months ago

Text

a somewhat comprehensive, unhinged guide to skz's smiles

Looks like dental analyses are back on the menu boys (non-gendered)! Soooo fun yet also disturbing fact: i found out i’m the first google search result when you search seventeen teeth. So why not let the unhinged behaviour continue and talk about Stray Kids today! Alexa, play “My Shiny Teeth and Me” 🦷

disclaimer: this is not me dragging any member or trying to make a comment on their attractiveness based on their teeth. they are all very very handsome men and i’m just going off an objective formula for these analyses!

christopher bang (bangchan)

Rip I’m blushing already! Chan’s smile is adorable - and the fact that it’s all natural?? You can see his teeth aren’t perfect - there’s some irregularities in the length of his teeth, maybe some minor chipping, and you can tell that there’s a flare to some of his teeth particularly his top two central incisors. But the beauty in Chan’s smile doesn’t lie in his teeth - it’s how beautifully it matches the rest of his face. His lip line looks great - minimal gums on display, and you can see in the first pic how nicely his smile matches the curvature of his lower lip (called a consonant smile arc). His facial midlines don’t look like they completely match his dental midlines to me, but that only makes him more charming! Also Chan’s adorable dimples are the result of a muscle called the zygomaticus major - which starts at the top of your cheek and goes to the corner of your lips. In his case, before birth, the lower portion of the muscle split into two - one bundle above the commisure (corner) of the mouth, and one below, which is how dimples are formed!

lee minho (lee know)

Imo, Minho is the perfect example of why you don’t need to have perfect teeth to still have a beautiful smile - his smile radiates pure joy and comfort. On first glance, the irregularities in Minho’s smile are very obvious - he has those big bunny central incisors (cuuuute), and you can tell there’s some irregularities in terms of his tooth proportions to each other (it kind of looks like to me that his left top central may be turned in a little?). He also has a cute gummy smile (his gum display still appears to be in the aesthetic display zone, although verging on the border), and you can kind of see his lip line and the arc of his teeth look like they’re reversed from each other. I think his smile is slightly asymmetric because he appears to raise one side of his lip higher than the other, but it just makes him more endearing (he’s had that smirk perfect since childhood).

seo changbin (changbin)

Changbin vampire fangs!! That’s all I have to say bc his canines immediately stuck out to me when I first saw him smile! They’re very prominent and elongated (similar to the Mingyu effect), and even though canines are the cornerstones of every smile, you can see why with Changbin. He looks like he has a longer contact point and shorter embrasure (curve where two teeth meet), which is probably why those canines look so long. Another thing that sticks out about Binnie’s smile to me is his actual tooth shape - I feel like it’s the perfect mix of square but also rounded so it makes him look masculine but also soft, which totally fits Changbin’s personality as a man who is very secure and not about toxic masculinity whatsoever. Even though his face has changed a lot, his smile has stayed pretty consistent and fits his current features even more if I must say so myself.

hwang hyunjin (hyunjin)

Literally screaming crying throwing up because how did I not notice how absolutely adorable Hyunjin’s teeth are (maybe I was too focused on how he scrunches his face cutely when he smiles). Listen, I know I’m the freaky tooth girl but these are some teeth - they look like the ones we practice on in dental school. Hyunjin has teeth of epic proportions - no literally. In the second pic, you can see how as you move along in his smile, each subsequent tooth is ⅔ the width of the previous tooth, which in dentistry is known as the golden proportion. Another thing about Hyunjin’s smile that sticks out to me as very attractive is how well it fills out his mouth - there’s just a tiny bit of negative space but otherwise you can’t see very far back past his first premolar, which is considered aesthetically ideal.

han jisung (han)

Listen, I need to be locked up when I think about Jisung’s teeth - for my own mental health. Maybe because he’s my bias, maybe because it’s just that great. It reminds me a lot of one of my fave kpop smiles (J-Hope from BTS). Maybe it’s the heart shape of their lips. Jisung has a far more gummy smile than Hobi though - like a lot a lot. I can’t fault him though, as a fellow gummy smile haver. I think the most interesting thing about Jisung’s smile though, is that it’s a really good case study for the transformative power of dentistry. Jisung’s smile has always been great, but you can see it’s undergone a number of changes. Firstly, he had braces before debut, and I suspect he probably underwent aligment (maybe with clear aligners?) even after debut, because you can see just how much his alignment has improved from the second to first pic. Don’t get me wrong, I think his teeth were absolutely adorable either way, but ortho definitely worked its magic on him. I also do want to point out his front teeth - it looks like one is significantly in front of the other in the second pic. I think ortho can absolutely fix a lot of things, but I do also think once his braces and aligners were done with, he does look like he’s gotten veneers to corrent the malpositioning (sometimes if you can add bulk to the front of a tooth with a veneer, it makes your teeth look less crooked). Again, I definitely need to be sedated when talking about his teeth bc I could go on and on.

lee yongbok (felix)

Our fairy prince Felix - and he has a smile to match!! One of the things that immediately stuck out to me is that Felix has the teensiest tiniest gap between his front teeth that doesn’t look like it was there. Gaps can form for a number of reasons - aging, gum disease. In Felix’s case, the most likely scenario is probably clenching or grinding. Those behaviours do tend to put excess force on your teeth and cause them to shift (I hope our bby is wearing a mouthguard when he sleeps). Also the second pic!! - it is so rare to find bottom teeth pics of idols these days but you can see his cute little crooked bottom teeth. Why are bottom teeth more likely to be crooked? - crowding usually occurs in the lower arch, called the mandible because there’s the tongue to contend with. The tongue is a pushy little muscle (this is not an innuendo lmao) and it too can put force on the teeth, causing them to shift.

kim seungmin (seungmin)

Our beautiful braces boy Kim Seungmin! Seugmin’s teeth have gone through such a journey, and I genuinely felt so emo when I saw him smile for the first time after he got his braces off (my heart did something). Seungmin’s gone through the gambit when it comes to ortho treatment - you can see before his smile arc was pretty asymmetric, instead of curving up and back, it goes up and down slightly (known as a reverse gull wing). Once he got the braces, his teeth really straightened out and you can see how his smile became a lot wider (I think more room was created in his arch so his teeth fill out more of his smile). The types of braces he had are known as self-ligating, meaning they don’t require rubber bands to secure the wire to the brackets (rather, they use a sliding mechanism). It’s also very possible that Seungmin now has a lingual retainer now (I couldn’t find any pics), which is basically a wire that goes on the back of your front teeth to prevent them from shifting. They’re a pain to floss and take care of, but totally worth it to keep those beautiful results (I hope Seungmin always keeps smiling).

yang jeongin (i.n.)

Maknae on top Innie! He also had the same self-ligating braces that Seungmin did - only he got them off sooner because he had them before debut. Listening to Jeongin talk about getting his braces off is so funny - chewing gum right after and eating curry lol! But he deserves it for putting in the hard work - having braces is not easy, and you can definitely see how it helped out his smile. Before, his smile arch was very inconsistent and up and down, but now you can see it follows a nice, balanced curve. Also I have no evidence to prove this (pics are blurry), but I do think Jeongin had top braces only - this is likely to correct the significant flare in his top teeth and bring them inwards. Also Innie is another one of those members who zygomaticus major was also doing the most - look at those adorable dimples!

thanks for joining me for another episode of unhinged smile analyses! I hope you enjoyed, and maybe we’ll see more smile analyses in the future ;)

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chronically-ghosted · 2 years ago

Text

Second Base.

rating: 18+

pairing: max phillips x f!reader

word count: 3712

summary: you try out second base; hand stuff only, but it changes things between you two, as much as you don't want it to.

warnings/tags: cute little outfits designed to drive max nuts, hand jobs (m and f receiving), more blood, fangs, one emotionally unavailable vampire

a/n: this contains one of my favorite lines i've ever written!

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Second base.

Because you aren’t actual sadists or masochists, after the first bite, your sex life with Max went back to normal. Well, as normal as sex with an immortal creature of the night ever was in the first place. Okay – as normal as sex with an immortal creature of the night who is Max Phillips ever was in the first place. Which is to say, often, hard, and loud. It had been weeks since you’d seen that worried look of consternation, that sweet vulnerability he expressed, as if feeding on you might be the thing that kills you and not being railed against your couch for the better part of an entire day. Sometimes you wished he had much respect for your ability to walk upright as he did your jugular vein.

On some level, you were aware that his recent overexuberance was in part due to that vulnerability. As if you might lift the curtain and find that the man behind it all might leave you wanting. Truly a frat boy at heart, Max struggled to express anything that couldn’t be summed up with the three “ings” – licking, sucking, and fucking, obviously – but now, he had been exposed as someone capable of those deeper feelings, as if he had been the one to split open a vein for you. And despite the heavenly glow you indulged in after the first bite, you really weren’t quite sure how you felt about it all. You hadn’t started dating Max with any illusions about who exactly he is. In fact, you might have started fucking him in the first place because it seemed wildly out of character that he or you would get attached at all – to anyone or anything. The dating thing just sort of happened, when you both came to the same conclusion at roughly the same time: no one else was really doing it for you, so why not? So what if you only directly referred to each other as boyfriend and girlfriend in the privacy of your own apartment, or his? So what if half of the office was entirely clueless about your relationship and the other half was actively placing “secret” bets about how long you two had been fucking? Annoyingly, Tim had been the one to be almost right: “six months ago, I’m telling you, man. That’s when he stopped eating secretaries and she got so much nicer.”

Technically, he stopped eating secretaries about a month into your relationship, and what Tim accidentally overheard was not him “eating” a “secretary”, but you weren’t about to correct him. But Max found it all hilarious: “he’s right, you’re so much nicer when that pussy has been taken care of. But I like it when you’re mean.”

You actively choose not to think about what he meant by a “deep emotional connection” last time.

Fine, Phillips, I’ll show you how mean I can be.

“Nope, no, uh uh.”

You put your hand just over the frilly blue lace on your hip. “I’m sorry, I don’t see the problem.”

It had been about a month since first base and while Max had gotten notably more relaxed around you seeing him eat – he now occasionally walked around your apartment with his food in an opaque smoothie tumbler with a straw – he was still very strict about moving onto second base.

Which, if left up to him, meant you’d be wearing a straight jacket and thick flannel pajamas.

“Max, if we’re ever going to do this thing for real, you’re going to have to get used to seeing me naked. I’m not letting you fuck me and bite me while I’m in riot gear.”

“Okay, but, baby,” he whines and he can’t help himself from rubbing the satin bow above your crotch between his fingers. “You look like a birthday cake.”

Is the baby blue lingerie with a strapless bra that catches around your biceps with white lace a bit overboard? Yes. But last time was ridiculous.

Max frowns, his visible pout morphing into something subtly dangerous as he realizes he can unpeel your bra with a string in the back. “Can’t I just fuck you normally in this and then we’ll try again later?”

You swat his hand away as it sneaks across your ribs.

“No.”

“You know, if I wasn’t already dead, I’d think you’re trying to kill me.” Smirking, he drops his hands down to your waist and, not so subtly, curves them around the mold of your ass. Distractedly, he slips one finger under the seam of your panties. You press your hands against his chest and blink up at him coyly.

“Whatever gave you that impression.”

He shakes his head, squeezing your ass once. “And I’m supposed to be the soulless demon with a heart of darkness.”

“So you’ll do this?”

With a sigh and his eyebrow jumping, he nods. “Yeah. Fine. Go get on the bed.”

Trying desperately not to squeal, you tear away from his arms and all but run and leap on top of the white towel. Max slips out of his shoes, and starts unbuttoning his shirt. You bite your lip, nerves humming in anticipation, as you sit up on your knees to watch him. To your enormous dismay, no matter how hard you worked, no matter how much spit or cum you used, you could not make him purr again. You’d had wet dreams on the idea alone of putting your head against his chest as he vibrated but he swore it was involuntary. “And,” he added as a way to soothe your ego, “I’m pretty sure it can only happen when I’m feeding.”

“Does it happen every time? Like with blood bags or back when you hunted people?”

“No,” was all he said about that.

Max slips his shirt off over his shoulders and goes to work unbuttoning his pants. When they slide off his hips, you frown.

“The boxers with the hole in the waist? Ooh, baby, I’m so turned on when you make such an effort.”

He rolls his eyes as he climbs in next to you. “Look, I didn’t think you’d be seeing my underwear and I need to do laundry.”

“You didn’t think I’d see your underwear in a situation where we’re going to specifically jerk each other off?”

Attempting some version of contrite, Max’s gaze falls from your face to your throat, to your clavicle, to your tits, pillowed up for him beneath the blue lace. He leans in as if pulled by magnets.

“I’m sorry if I thought we’d both be a little more preoccupied.”

His broad palm smooths across your thigh, around your hips, to just above your tailbone, his nose drawing indistinct lines from your shoulder to your ear. You sort of hate how quickly he can make you not irritated with him. You shift to take him into the cradle of your thighs, when he winds your panties up in his fingers and tugs. The gossamer material tightens just over the seam of your pussy, teasing your clit, you choke. That heated, teasing Max Phillips smirk spreads like hot butter across his lips.

“What are the rules again?”

“Max,” you whine as you drag your nails over his chest and up his shoulders. But he hesitates, his hand knotting your underwear in his fist. One move and it’ll rub against you again.

“I’ll stop,” he murmurs in a half-sing-song voice. You huff.

“Silver. Bad touch, on your skin. Lightheaded or dizzy, I use the safeword. And,” you sigh. He’s so painfully handsome sometimes it hurts. He’d set out candles again, as if he needed any help in his seduction of you and he just sort of glows. You don’t know if it’s your anticipation or some vampire illusion, but every line on him is blurred. Soft, as if he doesn’t have your pleasure literally in his hands. There it comes again, that small bit of light in his eyes, the emergence of the early morning sun over the horizon. The way he looks at you makes your chest heavy. “And . . . only hand stuff,” you grumble.

He chuckles, pouting at you in faux-sympathy as he reaches out, other hand wrapping around the back of your neck. “Only hand stuff, she’s so sad about it,” he whimpers into your cheek with a high, mocking voice.

Your fingers dig into the skin on his chest, daring to hold him away as he goes for your mouth. “I swear to god, Max –,”

In one single fluid motion, he pushes on your tailbone, and swings your hips forward as he tackles your mouth with his own, effectively yanking you under him. You huff in surprise, before pulling away to find menace and glee in his eyes. Grins again as he nips with flat teeth on the curve of your neck.

He plants wet, hot kisses across your chest, heat blooms against your ribs and tunnels down between your legs, as he tongues the softer places along the hollow of your throat, then up the other side of your throat, teasing your earlobe.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes, “that was mean. What can I do to make it up to you?”

Pressing your chest up against his, knowing he can feel the squish of your tits, you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him towards you. His hard cock rubs up against your seam and he lets loose with a muffled groan into your mouth. You roll your hips once with him between you and he turns his head to your jaw, as you both pant at the sensation.

“You know exactly what I want.”

His teeth graze you gently. This is an exercise in restraint for you as much as it is him. Given any other night, you’d have his pants off by now, on his back, or behind you, but you refrain. You can’t squeeze him like you want to and that only frustrates you more, makes you heated and ruffled, makes you want more of his skin on you, around you, as if he could smother you. You want to merge your bodies. Your knees dig into his ribs.

He whispers something, too low and fast for you to catch it, but it ends broken and uneasy as if you’re touching something delicate within him. Bending back with one hand, Max reaches between your legs and cups you, one finger barely pressing the wet material back inside you.

“Was this waiting for me under all those layers?” You nod as he pushes deeper, your mouth dropping open. He kisses your chin, before tucking his head under your jaw again. “No wonder you were burning up.”

He inhales as if his face was pressed right up against your cunt, two fingers rubbing up and down over that sodden material. It scraps against your clit and it burns. “I could eat you. Just like this.”

“Max, c’mon–,”

“I know, baby, I know.”

Smearing that pink little bow with the smell of you, he dips his hand under the line of your underwear, past your damp curls, and soothes your overheated sex by filling it with two thick fingers. You arch, brow furrowing, mouth open, fingers clamping down around his shoulders, arousal crawling up your spine, higher and higher the deeper he goes. Max likes the build up, the tease, it’s why his thumb only hovers above your clit, the heat doing half the work for him, as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, the wet squelching almost embarrassing. Behind his hand, his hips swing in time. He groans, deep, into your ear, breathless.

“Could come like this, baby, could come right like this.”

The bend of his cock bumps the back of his hand as he thrusts against nothing. You hitch your pelvis up, opening wider, pussy easier within reach, and you forgo any teasing for him, hand sliding right past his boxers, molding your grip around him. He’s hot and leaking all over your fingers.

“‘Ngh . . . shit, baby.” The arm holding him up shakes. You want to lick the salty precum but there has to be a rule about that, right? If you aren’t so desperate for that final fuck, you would have been a bit more careless. His fingers inside you press up into the places only he knows can send you into oblivion, as if grateful for tearing him apart. His wrist flicks quicker, faster into you, fingers plunging deeper, up to the knuckles, bouncing you as if you were on his cock. You match his speed with your own hand and Max hums, a dark sound verging on distressed.

You bite your bottom lip, eyes drooping, the rocking motion scraping against your pleasure again and again, like a match scratching against the box one stroke at a time. “Maaax –,” He adds a third finger and you keen, high-pitched and desperate, the width stretching you out for a cock he won’t let you have. You grind against his fingers, the bounce knocking loose every sane thought in your head.

Opening your eyes, you realize he’s been staring at your tits this whole time. His chest warm and glowing with sweat, his eyes track every bounce and jiggle, the cups of your bra putting them more on display than if you held them up yourself.

“Where do you want it, darling?” His voice is strained, softer than it should be with your cunt sucking up his fingers.

Max Phillips doesn’t do cutesy nicknames. Not during sex, not ever. Your his slut. His monsterfucker. Not –

Your already unspooling mind struggles to grasp at darling before it slips away.

His cock is throbbing against the palm of your hand. If you could see it, it would be flushed red, the vein at the base protruding. You pump him faster and his hips stutter. He’s so close and so are you.

But he’s not talking about that.

“On my tit, Max. Bite me on my tit.”

With a groan that is all growl, all tension and feral hunger, his arm collapses and he sinks his weight against you. He manages to get his hand out, but yours is still trapped there, pinned between your tender cunt and his painfully hard cock. You writhe. “Max–,”

His kiss against your lips is a starving sort of one, one that steals the breath from your lungs, wiping any lingering ache temporarily from your body. He licks the inside of your mouth, swallowing the moan that races from your throat into his. It’s all need, desire, a blistering familiarity that you didn’t realize existed between you two. He’s trying to say something with this kiss.

He doesn’t give you long to read into it, as he pulls back, sinking more into his knees as he mouths the skin under your neck, above your clavicle bone, and in between the valley of your tits. His weight shifts off you, enough to pull your hand out. You arch, pushing your chest deeper into his mouth, using the back of his neck to pull you higher, he groans and licks, and you yank the tie of your bra behind your back.

“Max, you can –,”

His hand claws at your cups, mouth consuming yours again, the ropes almost stinging your back as they are ripped so fast across your heated skin. Before you lie flat, his hand cups under you, fingers pressing into where the threads burned and forcing you to maintain that bend in your spine.

The moment is coming. You can feel it. It’s different from a rising orgasm, or the first time he ever sucked your nipple into his mouth. Your lizard brain is sending off warning flares, but you ignore it once again. Those flares arc and bend, your arousal now fire hot.

His tongue pressed flat, Max draws a long stripe of spit from under your breast, over the weight of it, and up your nipple, where he swirls it between his teeth. Whether Max Phillips was an ass or tits man depended on the day of the week, or whatever was blowing in the air, but he laved attention onto yours like they were the first pair he’d ever seen in his life. The skin on your other breast shines from where his fingers mold around it, smearing your wet juices all over your pebbled skin. He switches over and laps up that smell off you.

He’s wavering, caught between drawing it out and doing it so instantaneously he might black out and miss the whole thing. Your heart racing, skin almost too sensitive, you feel like you might shudder apart.

“Max, please –,”

He chooses the second approach.

Without warning, his fangs spring out and he latches onto the skin near the valley of your chest on your right breast.

You yelp in surprise, pain and pleasure zigzagging like rough scissors from his bite out through the rest of your body.

Okay, that hurts.

You gasp, bucking, yanking on his hair. “Baby, baby, gentler, be gentle–,”

He swallows and the ache lessens. Hot blood pools out of the spot where his fangs punctured you. It runs warm then cold, teasing like a feather, as it rolls down your stomach. It’s not a lot, but it's more than last time. It stains his chest too.

Slowly, that same sort of miraculous fog sinks down into your bones. The grip on his hair eases, softens, and soon you are petting him against you.

You swear you feel his fangs scrape your heart.

“That’s good, Max, that’s so good.” Your eyes roll lazily in your head and you nuzzle his hair. “God, how does this feel so good?”

As though determined to remind you he is more than just fangs, his hand pulls away from the mattress and slides back between your legs. You feel only one finger brush against your folds through your underwear – you’re almost disappointed, go back to using three, Max –

His finger plunges deep, deep inside of you, and you gasp, feet scrambling against the towel, as a swell of pleasure almost smothers you in an overwhelming wave. You nearly choke from the force of it. You were so overly sensitive but the gooey haze didn’t let you realize it until it was too late. You come hard, harder than you thought possible, seeing eons of galaxies and stars behind your eyes, with just one of his fingers inside you and his thumb distractedly circling your clit.

He feels you gush around his hand, wetting his wrist, and with a moan you can feel in your ribs, he spills in his boxers, the spend running down his thigh and smearing on yours.

Your entire body goes slack, as if someone had made all your bones disappear. His hips jerk slightly as if his orgasm is still trying to wring him dry before he stills and plucks his head from your chest, unplugging his fangs from the holes he made.

Blood immediately bubbles up from the wound and without his fangs there, it spills freely and violently over your tits, your ribs. The whiplash between your orgasmic high and a full-body weakness sends hot nausea swooping into your stomach and the room spins.

“M-m-ax,” you murmur, barely opening your mouth, your voice weak and thick as if stuffed with cotton balls.

“Fuck, sorry –,” you can’t quite see him clearly as he moves and suddenly there’s a warmth over your chest, comforting and heavy. The blood trickles to a stop and you breathe deeply. The darkness of the room stabilizes as you fully open your eyes. The room spins but this time pleasantly.

“Hmm, whoo, wow, ah, okay . . .”

You don’t realize he’s gotten off the bed until the mattress sags again and he’s cleaning you up with cold cotton balls.

“So, I’m going to take that mindless babbling as a good thing.” He smiles gently, but he’s holding something back. He keeps his head low like he doesn’t want you to see his face.

You wiggle your shoulders, as he delicately wipes you down. “What, you don’t wanna clean me up with your tongue? And why do you even use disinfectant – there’s no open wound.” You poke him in the shoulder with your toe. “And you didn’t even purr that time! I demand a refund!”

“Next time, okay?”

You frown. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just let me–,”

You sit up, the dried blood pinching your skin, and he pulls away. “Max, what is it?”

He pulls away so much, he’s on his feet by the dresser before you can touch him, the back of his arm tearing at his mouth to wipe it clean. Max is a lot of things but cold when you need aftercare is not one of them.

“It’s nothing.” The line of his shoulders is taught, tense. But he cracks his neck and takes the Gatorade from the dresser. He finally sits back down on the bed in front of you, offering the bottle to you. You take it, unease mounting, your fingers brush his, but this time he doesn’t retreat. Instead, gently, his fingertips ghost over your wrist, down the fine hairs on your arm, drop from your elbow and settle delicately on the blue material covering the crease of your hip. Where your blood had pooled, wet, and stained the blue to a deep magenta.

“I ruined your pretty underwear,” he says softly, forlorn.

You move closer to him, your knee touching his hip, but you refrain from seeking out the warmth of his hands.

“Max, I can get new ones, I don’t care about that. Please, talk to me. Did I do something wrong? Did I push you too far?”

His fingers flex around the towel, now also appropriately ruined. He shakes his head, more firmly this time. He snags his shirt off the floor, over his head, then moves towards the bedroom door.

“I don’t wanna talk about it. I’m sticky. I’m gonna take a shower. You wanna come?”

The invitation, it’s something, an encouragement you genuinely feared he might not give. Maybe it’s not you he wants to part from.

You didn’t enter into this for the emotional connection and neither did he. You have to remember that.

“Y-yeah. Of course.”

He invited you. He still wants you around.

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#max phillips x you #max phillips smut #max phillips fanfiction #max phillips x reader #max phillips #max phillips x f!reader #blood sucking bastards

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ashlingiswriting · 2 years ago

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do i know you? chapter six

[ 3.8k words ] [ prev chapters: one, two, three, four, five ] [ masterlist ] "maybe i just need to say something to you? get it out of my system?" richie jerimovich x reader, past mikey berzatto x reader, slow burn

by the time you get downstairs and push through the doors, you’re clutching that note like it’s a talisman of protection. richie looks up at the sound, and for a second, neither of you are pretending a thing. you’re so fucking happy to see him, you let it shine. he does too.

he looks dead tired but all right. the only new thing is a takeout bag from the beef sitting on the ground next to him, presumably some leftovers for a late night snack.

yo, he says, loud and hearty.

hello hello, you say. look what the cat killed, ate, and shat out on my doorstep.

he grins. you’re looking like a real vulture buffet yourself.

thanks.

yeah. he rubs his jaw with his knuckles. sorry i missed yesterday. i was busy getting arrested.

you freeze for a split second. then your brain catches up and you pretend that it’s fine, though you know it’s too little too late.

wow, congratulations, you say, a touch loudly. who’d you kill?

for that, he barks out a way bigger laugh than you think your lazy joke deserves. his laugh frays at the edges and he runs his hand over his hair, which makes you nervous, but you don’t press. you have time.

it’s more about who i didn’t kill, he eventually says. and, hey. he touches his own chest with exaggerated innocence. i was being a good boy. i was sticking by carmy like you said. but what do you know? kid couldn’t protect me for shit.

if carmy ever took a punch for your sake, you’d throw a level five tropical storm about it right in the middle of river north, you say, and he makes a little scoffing sound that confirms you’re right. was it the bachelor party?

yeah. barely a fight, you know those white collar criminals can’t punch for shit.

you consider him openly, failing to find any bruises on his face or neck, knowing that most of his body is covered up. your own head is so full of buzzing that you can’t really run a lie detector on his claims.

let me see your hands, you say.

you’re about to demonstrate, when you remember you’re still holding the note. quickly, you shove it in your pocket, then hold out both your hands in front of you, knuckles up. he takes off his gloves, shoves them in his pocket, and mirrors you.

the first thing you notice is a lack of cuts and bruises, but your eyes linger long past that discovery because you’ve never had a chance to stare at his hands before and you probably won’t get one again. his fingers are longer than you expected, a little reddened in the cold. no big scars, but a few little ones, what you’d expect from a line cook. the ghost of a fading burn licks the inside of his right arm.

silently, you turn your own hands palm-up, and he does too.

there’s no cuts or bruises here either, no defensive wounds. he could be pretending to be okay, but there’s no lying to you like this. the body always tells.

under the winter-pale insides of his wrists, you can see the veins running blue.

do they pass inspection? he says quietly.

you stick your own hands back in your pockets and say, derisively, do you ever fucking wash them?

he snorts. you sound like carmy. not bothering to put his gloves back on, he gets out his first cigarette of the night and lights it.

what’s the charge? you say.

aggravated assault. lawyer says he can negotiate down to probation, cause it was pretty much the other guy’s fault and i don’t have a ton of priors.

you lift an eyebrow at him. how many is not a ton?

enough, he says, playing it with such exaggerated nonchalance that he’s just begging for a smackdown.

very cool of you, you say, stretching out the first word like it’s taffy.

he just shakes his head, smiling. shut up, you goody two shoes. can’t fuckin believe i brought you spaghetti.

spaghetti from the beef? you spent the last twenty-four hours tossed around like a rag doll in an emotional hurricane of your own making, there’s no way you make it past the first bite without some kind of a public breakdown.

i’m not hungry, but thanks, you say. i thought carmy axed the spaghetti, anyway. wasn’t that like one of the opening battles of world war beef?

many a village was destroyed, yeah, richie says, but he made it for family, so i guess he’s admitting defeat long after the fact. and not a moment too fucking soon, i can tell you that.

and out comes the whole story, the tomato cans, cicero’s three hundred grand, and the joint dream carmy will be carrying on by himself. the reason the beef closed early and won’t reopen tomorrow.

when richie tells you the beef is over, he looks a little nervous, but the truth is: you don’t give a damn. if the beef died, that’d be whatever. but if it died and it took richie and carmy down with it, yeah, you’ve spent some time thinking on that. so you’re glad, now, that it won’t happen, and richie’s so wholeheartedly relieved, you really mean it when you say, i’m happy for you guys.

marcus and syd are back too, he says, and his relief is palpable. though as human resources, candidly speaking—

you’re laughing already. oh, this is gonna be good.

i’m just saying, i don’t know if we should let syd back in, given that—

abruptly, richie goes silent and eyes you speculatively.

what? you weird little man. truly. what?

are you gonna be normal about this? he says reprovingly, a poor imitation of a severe teacher.

no, i’m gonna throttle you till you go cross-eyed, you say promptly. what’d you do to her?

do to her? he splutters. what’d she do to me?

i don’t know, something completely justified?

one inch. he holds up thumb and forefinger an inch apart, like you don’t know what basic units of distance are.

what’s that, the length i��m about to cut off your dick?

no! what are you—she accidentally—he puts his hands up like you're aiming a weapon at him. she stabbed me. which i’m cool about, obviously, he says, as if he’s doing syd a huge favor. i’m a very cool guy.

he’s being so tremendously weird about this, you don’t get it at first, but at the same time he’s being so tremendously richie that it only takes a couple seconds to work it out. when you do, you almost laugh in his face. cause on one hand, there’s his natural desire to whine and moan and make a meal out of the situation, and on the other hand, there’s his (maybe a little bit reasonable) fear that you’d lose it if you thought he was actually hurt bad.

so fuck it. you play the part, you stay blank-faced for longer than you need to.

the blade went in one inch deep, you say.

like, inch and a half, tops.

this shit is fucking hysterical.

okay, you say, in a calm, measured voice. where’d she stab you?

in the kitchen, obvi—

where on your body, idiot.

he mutters it, the wind picks up at the wrong moment, and you can’t hear.

what?

in the ass! he yells.

that fucking cracks you right open—you can’t survive that one, not even for the sake of a joke. staring at him, voice pitching higher with incredulous glee, you say, what?

she stabbed me in the ass, he repeats sullenly, having realized that you were playing him all along. as you try to cut in, he just keeps raising his voice in a sour, vain effort to try and bully you into shutting up: and i think, as the person ultimately responsible for ensuring the HEALTH AND SAFETY OF THE ENTIRE STAFF—

all the while, you’re raising your voice too, not willing to let him shout you down: well, i think we should give syd a five star vacation AND A FUCKING MEDAL!

you both stop at the same time, stare at each other mulishly.

whatever, says richie. those three syllables are so full of disgusted offense that you crack up in peals of laughter, and he relaxes. in his normal voice, he says, she’ll get her michigan star soon enough. that’s practically the same as a medal.

i know you know it’s michelin, asshole.

that’s what i said, michelin.

you’re such a fucking child.

shaking your head, fond and exhausted, you pull a pack of cigarettes from your pocket. you've forgotten about the note you stuffed in there, so it gets dislodged by the movement, and as it slips out, the wind plucks it away and sends it flying. fuck.

richie lurches forward and snatches the paper out of the air.

what’s this? he says.

if only the fucking wind had carried it away.

nothing, never mind, you say, trying to grab the note from his hands.

nothing’s nothing, he says, turning away so you end up swiping uselessly at his back.

for fuck’s sake, you sigh. an admission of defeat.

there’s a fifty percent chance you’re well and truly fucked, depending on which side of the paper he looks at, and there's nothing you can do to improve your odds. all you can do is get out that cigarette and concentrate on looking as impenetrable as possible.

eventually, richie speaks.

the girl who loved wild horses, fables by lobel, the polar express, he says. are these movies?

they’re picture books, you say, hugely relieved, even grateful. your first piece of good luck all week, and it turned out to be a big one.

picture books? i’m on chapter books now, richie says. mrs. lowell says i might even be able to read harry potter by the end of the year if i start now.

no, dumbass. those are for you to read to eva.

oh. he keeps on scanning down the list. we actually have madeline already. she loves that shit. probably be reading chapter books herself any day now.

it never fails to tickle you, how much he believes that eva can do anything whenever she wants. he adores her so much, it bends his perception of the possible.

richie, you say indulgently, she’s five.

she’s almost six.

that’s still five. anyways, they’re really good, all the books i listed. most of them are caldecott winners. i remember my dad used to look for the little gold circle.

from the way he looks up at you, there’s no way his missed the first mention of your father. but, in a gesture of surprising grace, he just says, caldecott, what’s that?

it’s an award for kid’s books. only one winner every year.

he makes a face, and you have to laugh. partly from leftover relief, and partly because, richie, you’re such a fucking snob. it just means they’re good books, okay? you think i’d steer you wrong? only the best for eva.

always. he looks at the list again, a little puzzled, and finally says, thanks.

yeah, course, you say, experiencing a kind of joy that only thieves and liars get to experience: getting away with it. and you do, you almost get away with it, except that he folds up the note and sees your handwriting on the other side of the paper.

what’s this? he says.

don’t—

it’s too late.

just please don’t be a dick about this, you mutter as he reads. it might be the first time you’ve ever used the word please with him as anything other than sarcasm. you take one last long drag, then you stub out your cigarette, ready to flee if necessary.

is this for me? he finally says.

yeah, but—

did i scare you or something? he’s looking keenly at you now, you can feel it. you don’t dare look up.

no, you say. i scared me. god, how can you even begin to explain this? do you remember when you talked to me about that poem?

the caterpillar, he says.

yeah.

when you wrote those three sentences, you thought they were all you needed, but it’s so obvious to you now that even an essay wouldn’t be enough. you rub your forehead.

i think, you say, so quietly that the words are nearly deniable, maybe i just need to say something to you? get it out of my system?

yeah, says richie, subdued. shoot.

thanks. um. you rub your forehead for a second. look, all i know is that i can’t tell the future. like, with. it feels almost physically wrong, that have to force one of his names out, the one that richie will recognize. with mikey. i didn’t know. if i knew, i would’ve…

you look at him helplessly.

richie is looking back at you with the steady gaze of the only other person who actually fucking gets it.

nobody fuckin knew, he says.

you thought that looking back at him would be like touching a hot stove, but instead it feels like a lifeline, and you hold on as you keep talking, fumbling with your words, hesitant and slow. his blue eyes never flicker, never waver once. he is listening to you like the rest of the world has gone silent, like you’re the only one left, and you can feel every ounce of that weight.

i don’t know what’s gonna happen, is what i’m saying? it comes out of you like a question. and i think, maybe because you’re his, my brain got some signals mixed up. like, i can’t stop—

at the moment of decision, you find that you’d rather never see him again than tell him about the dreams. looking down at the concrete, you try to figure out something to say that you can live with.

there’s nothing. you end up saying something you need to say, whether or not you can live with it.

if you could just. you say. like, just…just fucking tell it to me, i’ll be good.

you have never had to put it into words before, and hearing yourself makes you feel so insane and abject and shitty and so fucking laughable, this must be some kind of dream. how the fuck did you get here.

the words on the note are: i’m sorry. i wish i was better at this. i want you to be okay.

you can hear the footsteps as richie comes closer: one, two, three. he’s close enough to touch you if he wanted to. you don’t want that. you don’t know what you want, except for this to be over, and you don’t know why you thought that putting out your cigarette would somehow make you able to leave. you’re holding perfectly still.

well, good news and bad news, richie says. a little quiet, but not precious. nearly conversational.

yeah? you say, soft.

bad news is i’m not suicidal, he says evenly, so you were wrong about that.

you’re so fucking overwhelmed, you can’t even begin to read him. and you certainly don’t know whether or not to believe him. it’s crazy: he says it perfectly, exactly what you wanted to hear, i’m not suicidal, and yet it brings no relief.

okay, you say woodenly. what’s the good news?

good news is i got that, uh, anxiety and depression—he over-articulates both diagnoses, an-xi-e-ty, and, de-pre-ssion—so you were right about that shit. he pauses. kinda shocked you figured it out, actually. nobody else has, unless i pop a xan right in front of them.

you look up.

bottom line? he says. the cadence is still conversational, but his blue eyes are so fucking sincere. i got eva and carm and a whole lot of enemies i don’t wanna give the satisfaction. i’m not giving up on any of them.

you try to give him a small smile. he deserves a whole lot more, but this is all you’ve got.

you don’t believe me, he says.

how the fuck does he know?

i don’t know what i think, you say. you got me all turned around.

deliberately, without taking his eyes off you, richie steps closer. he’s done this before, crowded you, gotten so close that he’s your whole world, but before it was always a challenge you had to stand up to and now it’s something else. it’s not an invasion, it’s an offer. he’s never been well-armored, especially not against you, but standing there and looking at you like that, he might as well be naked. you can smell him, sweat and fryer oil. his presence is so palpable it feels like hands on your face.

he repeats, you don’t believe me? and it feels like a promise.

you’re on dry land now. no more footholds, no more fear of slipping and falling. you can lay down here. you can rest.

you take it.

okay, you say.

with one last look, he steps away. you’re almost tempted to follow or ask him to stay, but that would be complicated, so you just lean against the wall next to him and light up another cigarette. savor that, and the piercing clarity of a dark night so cold that its clouds can’t even shed snow.

guess it’s my turn to ask you not to be a dick about this, richie says eventually.

no, i’m glad you did it, you say, and you mean it. getting medication, a diagnosis, all of it. i think it’s really good.

thanks, he says. i just meant, like, don’t be a dick about this new thing i’m about to say.

you look over and try to guess what fresh hell this is gonna be, but you also keep the door open to the possibility that this is a joke.

well, what are you gonna say? cause being a dick is kind of in my nature.

can you make an effort?

sure, you say, a little cautiously.

richie stubs out his cigarette.

i want you to be okay too, you know? he says, looking over to prove his sincerity with his eyes, and then looking back out at the street. you’re not wrong, right, i am actually fucking depressed, but like. it only took you one day to decide that something bad had happened to me.

this is so fucking unfair.

bad things happen all the time, you have no idea, you say.

his voice rises. i have no idea?

no, i didn’t— in your defense, you were thinking of a shadowed factory floor when you said it. that’s not a defense you can make, though, so you just say, i didn’t mean that.

richie accepts that, or at least he goes on.

it’s not just tonight, he says. sometimes the way you look at me, or the stuff you won’t talk about. secret agent aside, like. it’s so much, man.

god, the way he’s saying it, he’s been thinking about this for a while. on some level, you always thought that you were looking at him through a one-way mirror, always thought you were the one doing the seeing. you have no idea what to do with the news that you, too, were being seen.

he says, are you okay?

well? are you?

uh, yeah. you’re all hollowed out, and yet you’re still standing here, fucking talking, and. yeah, no, not really. but, you know, don’t worry about me, cause i got. who is it that you have, again? too much to do. i’m just too fucking busy to kill myself.

after a second, he says, and you got me.

yeah, you say. i got you. it comes out simple, natural. he’s offered it, so you don’t have to make a claim he can reject, and you’ve got no reserves of strength left to fight it either.

you look over at him, and this truth is the closest you’ll get to saying the other one. you say, i don’t wanna smoke without you.

you watch his face as your words land on him, and in some distant chamber of your mind, you think: so that’s what that looks like.

there’s one blessed minute of silence. then richie says, voice a bit thick, so if it’s not depression—

oh, jesus christ. it’s fucking not. you know you can’t just leave it there, because he won’t let you. it’s not because of his persistence—you’re every bit as stubborn as he is—but he wants to understand, and that’s the inescapable thing.

everything is going to shit, you say, after a second. i can feel it happening, but there’s nothing i can do about it. that’s all.

yeah, he says softly, after a second. i know the feeling.

no he doesn’t, but how could he? he’s thinking of the disappearance of the city he loves, the long slow slide from ceres to funeral. you’re thinking of how soon you’ll get what you deserve.

look, i already told you i’m a piece of shit, you say. and that’s it, that’s the whole fucking thing, richie.

yeah, i heard you the first time, he says. and then he says the worst thing he could possibly say, i don’t really buy that.

there’s no chance. there is just no fucking chance that this man is ever gonna get it.

i don’t know what you want me to say. at this point, your body itself is doing weird shit. you feel heavy enough to sink through the concrete, brittle and light enough to get disintegrated by the wind. i can’t, you say. i’m gonna go. i’m dead on my feet here.

richie stoops down and picks up the takeout bag with the tub of leftover spaghetti inside, then holding it out in the space between you, offering.

take it with you, he says. i know you’re not hungry right now, that’s fine. you can have it for breakfast, lunch, or dinner. spaghetti for dessert. something.

you don’t have the heart to say no to the ticking time bomb, and you don’t have the energy to pick it up either, so you just fucking look at it.

carmy cooked it, he says, and if only carmy could hear the way he says it, like: of course you want to eat it, everyone wants to eat it, michael fucking jordan would be so lucky to get a taste, cause carmy cooked it. the sauce is berzatto family recipe, it’s really fucking good.

richie, you say, i know it’s good.

you can practically fucking taste it, which is maybe why you’re on the verge of crying.

he lowers his arm. the plastic of the takeout bag rustles a little against the pant leg of his track suit. you turn, throw away your cigarette, and go.

you’ve got your hand on the door when he calls out, hey.

you don’t turn around.

richie says, i don’t wanna smoke without you too.

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@garbinge, @narcolini, @drabbles-mc, @beingalive1, @eternallyvenus, @cerial-junkie, @jackierose902109 — if anyone else wants to be tagged, let me know.

thanks to everyone for the lovely comments, and i'll try to keep posting twice a week for as long as i can. <3

#richie jerimovich x reader #richie jerimovich #the bear fx #the bear fanfiction #the bear fanfic #mine #readerfic #do i know you?#the bear imagine #to be honest i am really proud of this one 🥹#diky

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nowoyas · 10 months ago

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Koi no Yokan 10: Get it out of your system (Nishinoya Yuu/Reader)

First - Prev - Next - M.list - Ao3

A/N: this chapter was tough to write. please enjoy however you can.

Summary: The long ride back to Miyagi comes to an end. You open old wounds and gain a new one.

Warnings and tags: blanket series warnings. this chapter contains explicit death of a parent. also: implied animal death and implied/assumed homophobia (light). some suggestive themes.

Words: ~4700

The foretold Soba albums are remarkable. Despite his promise of unlimited access, Noya curates the photos for you, starting at the very beginning and not quite handing his phone over to you directly. You suspect this has more to do with the fact that you saw the text his phone unlocked on, and given the opportunity, you're fucking deleting the photo Tanaka sent him of the two of you napping together before lunch.

Instead, you lean in close to see his screen properly, head resting against his side. Initially, he'd shown a split second of awkwardness at the contact, but your attempt to respect his comfort level and pull away had seen him wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you right back down.

The photo he shows you now is one of the earliest: a girl, a bit thicker than Noya or the other sister you've seen but looking to be around his age now at the time of the photo, holds what's clearly Soba as a kitten—99% fluff and 1% anger. "This's Mei and Soba," Noya tells you in a low voice. "Mei and I were the ones that rescued her—I think this picture was right after we brought her back from getting checked at the vet? He said she was barely old enough to be separated from her mom, but when Mei found her, the mom was…"

You get the implication. "That's so sad. Do you guys know what happened to her mom?"

"We think she was hit by a car," he answers.

You nearly laugh. It's too perfect. "Mine, too," you whisper bitterly.

He tenses against you. "What?"

"Right in front of the house."

"Fuck, I'm so—"

You wind your arm around him, eyes locked on Soba and Mei. "Don't, Senpai. I don't want it."

He clears his throat awkwardly. Drags his thumb in mindless circles over your waist. "Okay. I won't, then."

"Tell me more about Soba?"

He obeys without a second thought, scrolling through to show you more as he continues telling you about Soba—early days, the household war over her name that the mysterious third sister, Satsuki, eventually won. (Apparently, he'd wanted to name her Miku. He refused to elaborate on this.) His arm doesn't leave you after that, either—one hand flicking through his photos, one resting too-hot on your waist.

It's a little weird, hearing him talk without raising his voice. Part of it, you think, is the weird tension that still hasn't quite left the others—the rest of the bus is relatively quiet. There's still noise, of course. But normally, Hinata and Kageyama would be at each other's throats, or else Hinata would be loudly chattering to someone—pissing off Tsukishima, or excitedly hyping up Tanaka. Unlike the bus ride down here, where the two boys weren't present, you're dimly aware in the back of your mind that they should be disrupting the peace.

"Hey. Where's your head?"

"Sorry."

"Oh, don't say that. You were all out of it earlier, too."

"Just… worried about those two," you whisper.

"Who, Shouyo and Kageyama?"

A nod.

"Is worrying about it gonna change anything?"

"It's not like I can just not worry about it. What, do you just decide not to worry and then not do it?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

You blink up at him, somewhere between awe and disgust. "That's insane."

"It took some practice. But, you know, unless you're gonna do something about it, looking at pictures of my cat is a way better use of your time. Otherwise you're just stressing yourself out, and that's the opposite of what we're trying to do right now."

"I don't understand how you can not worry about it."

"I mean, I'm worried. I'm just not paying too much attention to it 'cus there's not much point. Especially not when there's this picture of Soba in a bowtie Satsuki made for her you need to look at before I move on."

Oh my god that's the cutest thing you've ever seen. You coo, eyes sparkling at baby Soba.

"The fact that you have this many photos of your cat is still the most jarring thing to me," you tease. "Tough guy and his two thousand photos of his cat wearing cowboy hats and bowties."

"It's closer to one thousand, thank you very much. Soba's a very important cat." He clears his throat, drops his voice even lower, like he doesn't want anyone else to hear him. "My… I'm pretty sure she saved my sister's life."

"Oh. Like…"

He nods. "I don't really remember much, but our dad left when I was pretty young. I guess it probably messed me up pretty bad, and I used to be a lot more like Mei when I was a kid, but she always took it way harder than even Okaa-san did. She started doing stuff after we found Soba. I don't know where she went, but it was kinda like she brought my sister back."

"Are you just telling me this because I told you about my mom?"

He shrugs, the movement awkward with you pressed so completely into his side. "A little. It didn't seem fair."

…well, at least he's honest.

"But, I mean, I also just want you to know. That's okay, right?"

"…yeah." You shuffle a little, press your thigh into his in a way that's meant to be comforting. "Soba's a good cat."

He nods. "The best cat."

"And… thanks. For sharing and—and all that. I'm sorry about your dad and your sister."

He goes back to showing you photos of Soba in relative silence until his phone battery hits red. Then, it's you actually reading your book, half-resting it on his lap so he can read along if he wants. Impressively, he actually seems to be. He taps your side whenever he's done reading the page, and you nod whenever you're ready for the page to turn.

You don't untangle for the rest of the several-hour bus ride.

Back at the school gets you all a meeting, sat in a circle on the gym floor, and reminds you with stunning clarity that promising to tell Noya the story over dinner means you have to make a real dinner and actually tell him the story. The teasing from a few of the others on the way you were cuddled up when you got back to the school falls completely flat—you're too wrapped up in dread to even think about being embarrassed for the tangled legs or the comfort of Noya's chest beneath your ear.

So you respond the way you always do: get changed slow, linger in the changing room until Shimizu and Yachi have both gotten into their school uniforms and gone on ahead for the night. Check your phone in slow motion, pretending like you would have received any texts when the only people you talk to have been on a bus with you for the past five hours.

(Tanaka has texted you. Multiple times, in fact; you now have two pictures of you cuddling Noya awake and asleep, as well as several teasing messages about your new boyfriend.)

Eventually, you can't justify wasting any more time. Noya will come drag you out if you take too much longer. You meander past the gym just in time to see a panicked Yachi run past, yelling for an upperclassman—any upperclassman.

Then you hear the shouting inside the gym.

You poke your head inside, drop your bag as you watch Hinata clock Kageyama right in the face.

Not on your fucking watch.

Noya leans against the school gate with Ryu. He's waiting, of course, for you. His side feels buzzy where you'd spent the majority of the past three hours pressed into him. He keeps thinking, guiltily, about your leg pressed into his, migrating over the course of two hours until neither of you were acknowledging the fact that you were halfway in his lap. And now, dinner.

Later tonight, he'll text Ryu, a series of all-caps messages begging for divine answers on what the fuck it's supposed to mean when a girl goes out of her way to cuddle up to you. He won't include your dinner conversation, but he'll include a too-detailed description of how it felt when you sighed against him, the way you melted slowly over the course of the ride. He'll give even more details to Satsuki, red-faced and falling apart, desperate for a straight answer from the only sister available to give advice, and when she teases him—you should have just pulled her into your lap the rest of the way, stupid—he'll feel no more enlightened than before he debased himself asking for his sister's advice. He'll end the night with an embarrassing new search history that starts with how to tell if a girl meant anything by cuddling with you and ends with a browser in incognito mode, no new insights, a profound sense of guilt, and a mess to clean up in his bedroom.

For now though, he's fully not processing what Ryu's saying to him, though he knows it's about you, about the leap from teasing jokes to napping together.

He's processing it even less when Yachi runs up to them, white as a sheet and nearly screaming.

"Woah, Yacchan, what's—"

"P-please! I-in the gym, they're—they're gonna die!" she babbles, already crying.

Noya shares a look with Ryu and runs off ahead. Ryu can be the one to calm her down—Noya's faster.

This is how he finds Shouyo: rage in his eyes, voice hoarse as he shouts, cut off abruptly as he's thrown to the ground.

This is how he finds Kageyama: swinging back, hardly paying attention to anything except the middle blocker he's fighting before a fist closes in his shirt and roughly shoves him back.

This is how he finds you: right in the middle of it, taking a punch in the mouth clearly not meant for you as you throw one to the ground and roughly force the other back a good few steps.

"That's enough!" you snap. The other two are shell-shocked at the sight of you. "What the hell do you think you're doing!?"

"[surname]-san—" Kageyama starts, eyes wide. "I didn't mean to—"

"Be quiet. Both of you, sit. Don't even look at each other. You scared the hell out of Yachi-san, you know that?"

Noya stands, frozen, watching you stand over them with your hands on your hips like you didn't just take a punch to the mouth.

"Right. I'm sorry," they mutter in sync.

"I'm sure you are. Is this about the spike thing?"

They both look instantly incensed, talking over each other.

"He said he wasn't gonna set to me—"

"We don't have time to focus on this—"

Your voice cuts them off sharply. "I asked you both a yes or no question. I'm not interested in hearing anything else right now."

"…yes."

"Oi oi oi!" Ryu's voice cuts in, footsteps stuttering to a stop beside him in the doorway. "You two—"

You don't even look up at the intrusion. "One of you, find me a first aid kit. The other, go find me a couple rags and get them wet. Cold water, please. Yachi-san, take a seat. Your heart needs to rest before I enlist you in anything."

Noya's muscles tense, and he moves, remembering vaguely where the first aid kit is normally hung on the wall. Ryu silently moves to the storage closet to find some rags.

"Now. Admittedly, I'm still not that informed on volleyball. Is getting into fistfights with your teammates how you make it to nationals?"

"…no," Shouyo mutters.

"Do you win matches by scaring the shit out of the most gentle-hearted manager in existence?"

"…no."

"So what the hell do you think you're accomplishing right now? Fifty words or less from each of you. Hinata, you can start."

"He—he said that he wasn't going to set to me anymore! I'm just trying to improve what we have! If that quick is our greatest weapon, then—"

Kageyama growls. "Then you need to—"

"It's not your turn to talk." Silence. "You've got twelve more words, Hinata."

"…I'm not worth anything on the court without that attack," he finishes lamely. Noya might not have heard him if he hadn't come up beside you, placing the first aid kit in your waiting hand.

You crouch down, start rifling through the kit with a nod of thanks to Noya. "You're trying to improve things because you want to keep being a regular."

"…yeah. I just want to keep playing volleyball."

"Alright. Kageyama. Fifty words or less."

Kageyama grits his teeth. You're not even looking at him—instead, you're looking over Hinata, a bandage in hand.

"If we spend all our time and energy working on making a change that might not work, it's just going to hurt us more later. Hinata should be focusing on improving as an all-around player instead of wasting time on something we've tried before and couldn't make work. All this—"

"That's fifty."

"Oi—"

"I said fifty words or less."

"But—"

"You just punched me in the face, so sorry, but you get to talk when I say you get to talk. You used your fifty." You accept a cold rag from Ryu, press it firmly against a red spot on Hinata's cheek. "Hold that there. It's not quite an ice pack, but it'll help with the swelling and maybe prevent later bruising."

"Um, [surname]-san, your lip—"

"This isn't about me, but thank you for your concern."

"Oi, did Kageyama seriously—" Ryu whispers to Noya.

Noya nods. "I don't think she even noticed. He got her right in the mouth."

You shift to looking over Kageyama for injuries, roughly smoothing a bandaid in place on his face. "I know I'm new to all this stuff, but you two weren't there for the start of the training camp. Right now, the team is built around that attack. Without it, you can't win against high-level teams. And with it, you also can't seem to win, but you're much closer."

Noya winces. You're right, but…

When you're satisfied with the first aid administered, another damp rag being pressed against Kageyama's own bruises, you lean back, settling on your knees to look at them both. "I don't think Hinata's wrong for wanting to improve it when it's not working. And I don't think Kageyama-san is wrong for wanting there to be focus on improving in other areas. It seems to me, as someone whose entire job is to watch you guys and pay attention, that both of those things are going to be necessary if you want to start winning. But that's just me."

After a long moment of silence, you sigh. "How are both of you feeling?"

"Fine," Shouyo mutters. Kageyama simply glares at the floor.

"Good enough. Let's get this mess cleaned up and go home. Gym inspections tomorrow, so you have a day to work through your shit before practicing together again. Do us all a favor and use it wisely. Solve it however, I don't care, but no more scaring Yachi-san and no more actual fistfights."

You rise, move to help them clean up the scattered volleyballs and take down the net. Noya grabs your shoulder immediately, turns you to inspect the damage.

That would be what Hinata was trying to point out. Now that you're actually facing him, he can see the split in your lip, the blood lazily trailing down your chin.

"Nope," he says immediately. "Come on, it's your turn to get first aid."

"Senpai, I'm—"

"Bleeding. Those three can clean up just fine. Let me take a look."

You roll your eyes, but let him guide you to sit against the wall while he inspects your bleeding mouth. Yachi seems no better for the wear after returning—the fight's done, which leaves her full brainspace to panic over you and your bloody lip.

"[s-surname]-chan, h-how did you—"

You scoff at her panic, pat the ground next to you. "Sit down. You look like you're gonna pass out."

She obediently sits. Noya crouches in front of you, tilts your chin so he can dab at the blood running down your face. "I'm gonna kill him," he growls.

"Don't. I knew what I was getting into. 'Sides, he clearly didn't mean to hit me."

"But he did," he grumbles.

Your eyes slide Yachi-ways, amusement clear in your features. "Senpai. You realize you can't really do anything for a split lip, right? It's stop the bleeding and then go about your life."

"But—"

"Yachi-san, are you okay?" you interrupt him, turning to the poor girl. "You're still super pale."

She nods slowly. "I… it's not like I got involved in the fight or anything. It was just… scary…"

You flash a reassuring smile, reach over to pat her on the shoulder. "You did good. It's over now, yeah?"

"Right… d-do you think they'll be… okay…?"

"They will if they've got their friends with them through it."

Noya stands, helps you to your feet. Offers a hand to Yachi, too, who politely refuses. "I seriously thought you might pass out back there."

She shakes her head. "I'll be okay. Thank you."

You brush yourself off. "Sorry you guys had to see that, though. Yachi-san, if you're feeling alright, maybe walk back with Hinata? You gel pretty well with him, and I don't think either of them want to hear any more from me tonight."

She nods. You ask the same favor of Ryu with walking back Kageyama; effortlessly, everything is cleaned up, the two first-years involved in the fight get sent on, and you walk back with Noya, carrying the bloodied rag in your hand.

"You're learning a lot about me today, I guess," you comment, a thin veneer of amusement over your voice. "We haven't even gotten to the part where I cook you dinner to make up for telling you all about my trauma immediately after."

"Hey, I'm not complaining," he jokes. If he runs right at the dinner thing, you'll probably clam up again. "Stern [name]-san back there was kinda hot, though. You need a husband?"

Wrong thing to say, Noya, wrong thing to say—

You toss your head back and laugh. "I dunno. I've gotten a lot of applications recently. Pretty sure they're all the same guy, though."

"Damn. He must have eyes or something."

"I'm not sure he does, really. I'm kinda a mess."

He pulls you into a side hug. "You do a really good job of pretending not to be."

"You're not even going to deny it?"

"Oh, sorry, you're not a mess. You alone are the one human being in existence who has ever had it together."

"Thank you, thank you." You pat his chest. His nerves light on fire at the contact—he nearly misses a step.

You lead him past his own house, where you normally part. Your mind is somewhere else—he lets it drift there for now. There'll be plenty of time over dinner to figure out what's going on inside your head.

Your hands shake as you prepare dinner. You didn't really have much of a plan, but curry makes a lot and lets you eat well for over a week after cooking once, so you tie an apron around your waist, peel potatoes, chop garlic, and get nearly half an hour to think about the elephant before you let it into the room.

Noya, for his part, waits as you work. He sits at the table, watches you swish about the kitchen, watches you grate an apple and wipe down the salt container and dump lemon juice into your bowl of grated apple. He's patient, just to surprise you. When you throw stock into the pot and drop a lid on top, you turn to him at last, feeling the dread so acutely that you end up turning back to the sink and washing whatever dishes you've dirtied in the past half an hour.

"Did you want to wait until we were eating to talk to me about it?" he asks at last, head propped up against his hand as he watches you. "I can help with dishes."

"No," you say, too quickly. "I just—I need to do something with my hands. Sorry. I'm nervous."

"It's alright. You've got good reason to be. How's your lip feeling?"

"I've had worse."

He raises an eyebrow at that, but doesn't press.

You wipe the knife clean and sigh.

"Alright. I think—I think I'm ready."

Twenty months and five days before you make curry with Nishinoya Yuu sitting in your kitchen, your parents finally figure out how hard it is to love you.

Ten days before that, you'd taken midterms and simply chosen not to care about them. You did whatever, you rushed in, you didn't prepare. And you bombed two exams.

For ten days, you didn't tell anyone. You crumpled the test papers into the bottom of your bookbag and forgot about them. Who cared, anyway? It was midterms and you were fourteen. They weren't even final exams. You had other, more important things to worry about, like the new game that just came out and impressing Kasumi from your homeroom—so cool, so pretty, so unabashed.

(To Noya, you don't mention her name. You don't mention her gender, or her shiny black hair, or how soft it felt between your fingers. How easy it was to find excuses to touch it.)

Your parents cared. They were rarely both home after school. They both loved their jobs, loved to work, loved each other, and loved you less. Love was real and it was different from person to person—shameless, bubbly affection between your parents, the thrilling swoop of your stomach as you stole kisses with Kasumi behind the arcade and fished for extra yen to try one more time for the rabbit plush in the crane game.

The parent you got to have on November 11th, 2010 was your mom. You took an early bath, left your bag a mess on the living room floor. Emerged with skin tinged pink from too-hot water, already in your pajamas long before dinner.

Your mother stood in the living room, a crumpled piece of paper in her hand.

Your math exam, a stunning twelve points out of a potential hundred at the top. You'd understood all the concepts, you just hadn't cared.

You always wanted to test whether people actually liked you.

If your mother loved you, she'd look at the paper and love you anyway. She'd work to love you, fourteen years old and filling out two answers on your answer sheet before doodling over the rest because you just didn't care anymore. She'd smile, exasperated, and ask why, and then no matter what you said, she wouldn't care about the answer because she'd love you anyway.

If your mother loved you, whenever she inevitably learned about Kasumi, about your infatuation with her berry-flavored chapstick and soft skin, there wouldn't be a fight. She'd look at you and see you happy with another girl. She'd smile, exasperated. She'd ask why, but wouldn't care about the answer. No matter what you said, she would love you anyway.

The way she looked at you wasn't loving. It was disappointed.

"Why does your test paper look like this, [name]?" she asked. In your memories, her voice sounds like ice, almost pretty in how cold it is. You're sure it probably sounded a little nicer at the time.

You'd mumbled something halfway truthful, something about you'll love me even if I'm a failure, right? and she'd looked actually hurt.

"You're not a failure," she said simply. "My daughter is not a failure. She's brilliant. She's just lost her way a little."

You didn't lose your way you loved her you loved her YOU LOVED HER—

You remember your temper flaring. You remember yelling.

You remember your mother going out for a walk—give me a minute. You calm yourself down, like we talked about, and I'm going to calm myself down outside, and then we can come back to this conversation, okay, sweetheart?

You remember sitting, arms crossed, on the couch. Screaming into a pillow. Screaming not into a pillow.

You remember laying on the couch, the way you always would with her when waiting for Dad to come home, late at the office again. The way you and Dad would when she was the one working late.

There was love in this house—once. The last time it had been here was November 10th, 2010.

Eventually, still angry, hoping to maybe yell at Mom in public so the neighbors would see how much she didn't love you, you stormed outside.

You saw your mom, returning from her walk.

You saw the car.

You're told that you screamed, but you don't remember it.

"So… yeah." The roux block breaks harshly in your hands with a crisp snap. Noya doesn't speak, so you keep talking. "Otoo-san has barely looked at me ever since. I don't blame him. I swing between trying to get him to be my father again and just not giving a fuck."

"Holy shit, [name]-san."

"I thought the whole neighborhood knew I got my mom killed."

He shakes his head. "I had no idea. Fuck, I'm—I'm so sorry."

"Please," you say, voice too sharp and jagged. You have to pause before you try again. "Don't be."

"What should I be, then?"

You stare at him a long moment, not quite understanding the question.

"…I don't know."

He stands, joins you at the stove. You stare into the pot, skim the scum pointedly to avoid looking at him.

"You know it wasn't your fault, right?"

"They never caught the driver of the car. He slowed down a little bit, started to get out, and then saw me and sped off."

"Holy shit."

"Yeah."

There was love in this house once. It was real, and took work, and it was earned.

It was warm and comforting. It felt like a hug from behind, standing at the stove and dissolving blocks of curry roux into a pot. It felt like quiet acceptance, like choosing not to leave when the door wasn't locked and no one was stopping you. It was sitting up on the couch, waiting for someone to come home from wherever they'd been out late to make life good for everyone else in the house.

It felt like the secret moments behind the shift from a question—why—to a smile, a decision.

There are realities you have to accept, and as far as you're concerned, there's realities you don't. One of the former is your mom's absence, the love that left with her. Still another is the raw facts of this scene: mixing curry, adding too much spice and still not enough, sitting in the living room and talking and laughing with Noya as he tastes your curry and promptly lets a marriage proposal leave his lips, breezy, easy, familiar.

"Nine hundred sixty-one," you say with a smile.

One of the latter types of realities looks more like this: a warm feeling in your chest, a familiar flutter in your stomach. The heat of his arm on your shoulder, the persistence of the smile on your lips. Complaints about the spice of the curry hurting your split lip met with playful teasing that you'll still think about laying on your futon tonight, long after he's gone home.

And you'll need one damn good yes to accept a reality you don't have to.

Later, you'll feel hollowed out from the mood swings of the day. Tomorrow, you'll feel too wrung-out to get out of bed in the morning. Tonight, you just feel warm. So warm, in fact, that you're not even mad when he pulls out his phone and produces a video of you, half-asleep and pressed into his side on the bus a few hours earlier, as proof that actually, [name]-san, you'll find I only need to ask nine hundred and sixty more times.

Nine hundred and sixty it is.

Tags: @deeplightgarden @idonthaveanameideayet @dusstory @kazunish

#my fics #nishinoya yuu/reader #nishinoya yuu x reader #yuu nishinoya x reader #yuu nishinoya/reader #noya x reader #noya/reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu reader insert

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ohthehypocrisy · 1 year ago

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Dusknoir for Pokemon Unite!

Season 1

Season 2

Prev: Cradily - Hatterene - Tropius - Cacturne - Ditto - Weavile - Ogerpon - Coalossal - Gogoat - Galarian Slowbro - Luxray - Breloom - Uxie, Mesprit, & Azelf - Wobbuffet - Obstagoon - Lanturn - Castform

The envoy of the dead, the ferryman of the underworld river, what many would call the Grim Reaper himself. Dusknoir has arrived on Aeos Island, but for what purpose? Has he come to reap the souls of the living, or are his motives far more sinister?

Whatever the reason may be, we must be prepared to shake hands with Death itself. It's time to look into what this begrudged boogeyman is capable of.

With massive stats in both defenses, Dusknoir seems like it was made for the role of a Defender. That would be true, but due to its Ghost typing, it suffers a bit from 'big boned' syndrome, where it isn't as fat as you would think. A low HP stat of 45 averages out those huge Defender numbers into what's essentially average bulk, but at least it has a decent Attack stat. In actuality, Ghost types like Dusknoir get most of their value from playing trick or treat with their enemies, using moves like Will-o-wisp, Confuse Ray, Curse, Pain Split, all of which can enfeeble opposing pokemon while empowering the user and their allies.

As such, for being well suited to the hybrid role of a Defender and a Supporter, I designate Dusknoir with the role of an...

All-Rounder

Basic Attack - Melee/Atttack

Becomes a boosted attack after 4 hits. Each hit marks an enemy with an eye icon. When the boosted attack is used, a shadow explosion deals damage to the enemy regardless of where they are, damaging any nearby enemies as well. The boosted attack ignores shields when damaging an enemy with a wide open eye mark.

Each hit of the basic attack marks the affected enemy with an eye shaped icon. The first hit marks them with a closed eye icon, which progressively opens as more hits land. The boosted basic attack has the pokemon attack all around itself with ghostly energy and affects all marked opposing pokemon.

When the pokemon uses its boosted basic attack, all pokemon marked by the basic attack will be attacked by a ghostly explosion that affects nearby pokemon in a small area.

The more the eye mark progressed, the more damage dealt. The first mark, the closed eye mark, deals 100% of the boosted basic attack damage. The second mark, the tired eye icon, deals 120% damage. The third mark, the open eye icon, deals 140% damage. The fourth mark, the wide open eye icon, deals 160% piercing damage.

With the big hands of Dusknoir and Dusclops, you can bet they know how to throw them. Duskull less so, but it's learning.

Those big hands also have a habit of cursing all who are touched, so when it hits something in Pokémon Unite, it marks them with a weird eye symbol. The more hits this basic attack deals, the wider the eye opens. And when the boosted basic attack comes out, all who are marked are seen by the user and attacked all at once with powerful curse energy.

Now, the basic attack will become boosted after 4 hits, but the eye mark isn't guaranteed to be opened all the way when this happens. In the heat of battle, you'll land one or two hits on an opposing pokemon, marking them with a weak eye icon. That's good enough, as the eye icon is the multiplier for the boosted basic attack. Now, it would be nice to hit an enemy all 4 times, but just once is good enough, as the boosted attack will deal damage regardless of where they are when it comes out.

It's also hard to actually land all 4 hits of the basic attack, as the basic attack doesn't ever reset. You could KO a wild pokemon while at 3 basic attacks, then throw your 4th attack at an opposing pokemon 30 seconds later, marking them one time before the boosted basic attack comes out. It'd be nice if there was a way to increase your basic attack speed outside of X Attack, that way it'd be possible to cycle through your basic attacks at least once.

As it just so happens, there is. It's Dusknoir's powerful aura called Pressure, and it's much more impressive than it seems.

Ability: Levitate/Pressure

Levitate (Duskull)

The pokemon’s Movement Speed increases relative to the Unite Move Meter.

Pressure (Dusclops/Dusknoir)

The pokemon’s Movement Speed and basic attack speed increase relative to the Unite Move Meter. Reduces the damage of all opposing Unite Moves.

Both Levitate and Pressure increase the user's Movement Speed relative to the user's Unite Move Charge Meter. For example, 50% Unite Move charge equates to 50% increased Movement Speed.

Both Levitate and Pressure are in effect even when the Unite Move is locked by the Level or by other effects.

In addition, the user's basic attack speed also increases relative to the Unite Move Charge Meter, following the same formula.

Pressure reduces the damage of opposing Unite Moves by 40%.

Did you know that when a round starts, your Unite Move Meter is locked? Obviously, yeah, you aren't at a high enough level to use it, but even so, it continues to charge while locked. This can come into play during certain Quick Battle modes where you level up so quickly, you can unlock your Unite Move before its finished charging. Now, this will never happen in a real match, but for the most part, Duskull's Levitate Ability gives it a slowly increasing Movement Speed boost when the game starts.

It helps that Duskull and Dusclops are bulky enough that they can defend an area, and then use that speed to retreat or rotate lanes when necessary. However, they don't quite have the attack power of a Defender to make use of their defenses just yet. This can make it difficult for Duskull in the beginning, but if you can evolve soon enough, Levitate will become Pressure, giving Dusclops some much needed firepower for the mid game.

Pressure not only increases your Movement Speed, it will also increase your basic attack speed, letting you hit fast enough to mark enemies with the watchful eyes of the underworld. Oh, and it improves your ability to defend by spreading basic attacks around much faster.

Speaking of defense, Pressure also reduces the damage received from opposing Unite Moves if you get hit by them. It may not help much if you're behind in EXP, especially when you're stuck as a Dusclops, but if you've evolved into a Dusknoir, it can give you some much needed bulk. Most opposing pokemon will pop their Unite Move to win a 1-v-1 or to make a power play, but Dusknoir's Pressure takes that option away from the enemy, especially when you're at equal Level.

It's a carnal type of fear when you're backed into a corner, and your Unite Move isn't guaranteed to work against the slowly approaching Ghost Type pokemon that's the personification of death itself. Spooky.

At the start of the game, Dusknoir will start out as Duskull. You can choose between Astonish and Leer as your first move. By Level 3, you will have learned both.

Move 1: Astonish (Melee)

The pokemon disappears into the shadows, becoming invisible to enemies. When the move is used again, the pokemon reappears and Stuns and damages any enemy nearby. 9s cooldown.

Astonish makes the user invisible for 5 seconds or until the attack is used. You cannot use any other attack or move until then.

Astonish damages all nearby enemies and Stuns them for 0.75 seconds.

Invisibility effects are annoying and difficult to scale to the player's skills, so there are loads of things to consider when giving such an effect to a pokemon. Is it fair when a Duskull uses it to help it launch a sneak attack? Maybe not, but it is in character for a mischievous little skull creature like itself.

The move Astonish is balanced out by two things. Firstly, it has a lengthy cooldown of 9 seconds and only runs for 5 seconds. This makes it difficult not only to lead an attack or an ambush with, but also deprives the user of an escape plan should the frontal attack backfire. Basically, if you open with Astonish, Stun and hit an enemy, what are you to do if this move fails to KO or deal significant damage to the enemy? Probably perish.

The second thing is that Astonish has short range and doesn't augment Duskull in any way beyond granting invisibility. Wherever you go with Astonish, you have to understand that you're committing to it. Remember, your Attack stat isn't all that impressive until you evolve into a Dusknoir, so make sure that this surprise attack counts.

The easiest way to do that? Play as a Supporter with Astonish and your other move.

Move 2: Leer (Debuff/Hindrance)

A bright flash of light is emitted from the pokemon’s eye, briefly blinding the enemy and reducing their defense. 7.5s cooldown.

Leer obscures the vision of enemies for 2 seconds and reduces their Defense by 30% for 4 seconds.

There are more pokemon out there with multiple heads than there are pokemon with single eyes, and that's one of the weirder things about pokemon in general. Being a Ghost type, Duskull doesn't have much need for physical senses, so it can afford to lose some depth perception. Of course, there is such a thing as equivalent exchange, so by losing one eye, it gained some special powers for using the remaining eye.

Leer flashes a debilitating light from its eye, blinding affected pokemon briefly and reducing their defenses afterwards. It helps Duskull soften up opposing pokemon to make up for its low attack power, but it also really helps out allies deal even more damage, especially if they can deal ranged physical damage like Raboot or Decidueye.

The blinding effect is also interesting. It only lasts for 2 seconds, but if Astonish is ready to go, you can follow up with that attack and go invisible, completely escaping the opposing team's vision! It's up to you on what happens next, as you can escape to safety or try and go for a KO on a weakened opponent. Remember, you're a hybrid Defender and Supporter, so whatever you do is supposed to benefit you and your teammate.

Coordination is the key here. You get a lot of EXP for KO'ing opposing pokemon, which is helpful for you as Duskull needs quite a bit of EXP to evolve. If you can manage that, you'll be one step closer to unleashing your full power.

At Level 6, Duskull will evolve into Dusclops. At the same time, Astonish will become either Shadow Punch or Night Shade.

Move 1a: Shadow Punch (Ranged)

The pokemon becomes cloaked in shadow, disappearing from the enemy’s sight. When the move is used again, a projectile fist is launched, dealing damage to any enemy struck. The fists can be used repeatedly until the move ends, but the fists will be visible to enemies. Each hit restores the user’s HP. 9s cooldown.

At Level 11, Shadow Punch becomes Shadow Punch+.

Increases damage dealt gradually while invisible.

Shadow Punch makes the user invisible for 7 seconds. During this time, using Shadow Punch again sends a shadowy fist out as a projectile. This move can be used repeatedly in this way with a 0.5 second delay in between punches. Shadow Punch goes on cooldown when the invisibility effect wears off.

The projectile fists are visible to opposing pokemon, revealing to enemies where you are hiding. Each hit of Shadow Punch restores your HP by 50% of the damage dealt.

The user will be forced to become visible if damaged by an opposing move. Shadow Punch+ has the projectile fists deal increasing damage the longer you manage to stay invisible, up to as much as 250%.

Similar to Astonish, Shadow Punch turns you invisible. However, Shadow Punch also turns your ghastly fists into straight slinging knuckle sandwiches made of phantom energy. I guess all you need to box like a pro is a good ol' pair of hands, and not necessarily a set of arms or elbows, or shoulders for that matter. Seriously, why does it just have hands?

Well, with a new evolution comes some improved stats, which makes it more feasible for Dusclops to go on the offensive with Shadow Punch. The invisibility effect hides you very well without any tell that you're nearby. Enemies will only know you're in the area if they see the ghost fists flying out of nowhere, but the invisibility will protect you from Sure-Hit moves like Glaceon's Icicle Spear.

But if something else hits you, Shadow Punch and the invisibility effect ends, forcing you to come out of hiding. This is different from Astonish, which kept you hidden even if you got tagged by a lucky shot. While Shadow Punch gives you range and invisibility, the move must be used carefully for the full effect.

As a reward for playing well with Shadow Punch, each hit restores some of your HP when they deal damage. This is useful for recovering from a fight or when a scuffle with the opposing team has worn you down a little too much. If you manage to safely use Shadow Punch to escape the opposing team, any potshots you take will serve to restore your HP and keep you in the fight for a little longer. The longer you manage to stay hidden, the more HP you can restore, putting you back in the fight.

Shadow Punch+ improves the damage these ranged punches can deal the longer the invisibility effect remains for, which helps you deal plenty of damage, especially as you'll have evolved into Dusknoir by now. It becomes easier to pick off weakened opposing pokemon with Shadow Punch while your own offensive presence is enough to ward off the enemy team.

Speaking of which, if you want to talk about offensive presence, consider Night Shade as an alternative.

Move 1b: Night Shade (Area)

The pokemon creates a shadow copy at the designated area while becoming invisible in turn. The shadow copy can be directed but cannot attack. When the move is used again, the copy explodes, dealing damage to all enemies in range and deals extra damage for each hit the copy took. 10s cooldown.

At Level 11, Night Shade becomes Night Shade+.

Resets the cooldown of this move when an opposing pokemon is KO'd.

Night Shade creates a clone of the user in the designated area while also turning you invisible. This effect lasts for 7.5 seconds, until Night Shade is activated.

The created clone shares your name and HP bar at the time of creation, but will not take damage or be affected by hindrances. It can still be targeted and attacked by opposing pokemon and moves.

The clone can be 'directed' by your own movement. You are essentially controlling two characters at the same time, but one is a decoy.

Night Shade can be used again to cause the clone to explode in a wave of ghost energy, dealing damage to all enemies nearby. Each hit of damage the clone received increases the damage dealt by this explosion by an additional 7.5%, maxing out to 150%.

Night Shade+ has its cooldown reset when an opposing pokemon is KO'd by this explosion.

Most, if not all, of the cloning moves in Pokémon Unite puts a computer in charge of the copy. The most you can do when using Double Team with either Greninja or Meowscarada is pick the best direction and hope for the best. But Dusclops has big hands and is surprisingly adept at pulling puppet strings in order to control Night Shade. As such, the ability to confuse and confound opposing pokemon depends on your own misdirection and sleight of hand.

The copy made by Night Shade shares your name and HP, which is good enough to convince nearby enemies that you're the real deal. The jig is up once the copy is attacked, as Night Shade prevents the clone from receiving damage or hindrances. It will also tell enemies that you are nearby, as Night Shade requires you, the puppet master, to be close by to control it.

If you are in danger of being revealed to the opposing team, you can trigger Night Shade to self destruct, dealing damage to all enemies near the copy. It will deal even more damage the more hits it received, returning the enemy's aggression back to them.

Of course, this only works on opponents that aren't paying attention. Smart players will back away from the copy when they see it isn't responding to damage or crowd control, as they know it will eventually explode. They'll start attacking blindly around the area itself, hoping to fish you out. You can do something sneaky and use Night Shade behind you, tricking the opposing team to overextend or waste their own Unite Move.

Keep in mind that this trickery is in service to the team. You're playing as a hybrid Defender slash Supporter, so your crafty Night Shade plays must be used to draw enemy fire safely away from teammates. You can afford to go on the offensive with Night Shade+, as not only can you reset the cooldown of the move with a successful KO, you'll also have evolved into the more powerful Dusknoir by then.

Speaking of which, Dusknoir requires quite a bit of EXP to reach its full potential, and for good reason.

At Level 9, Dusclops evolves into Dusknoir. At the same time, Leer becomes either Shadow Ball or Destiny Bond.

Move 2a: Shadow Ball (Debuff/Hindrance)

The pokemon launches a ball of darkness, sticking to all enemies in range, obscuring their sight, and increasing the damage they receive for a short while. The affected pokemon have their Unite Move charge rate decreased for a few seconds afterwards. 10s cooldown.

At Level 13, Shadow Ball becomes Shadow Ball+.

Further decreases the opposing pokemon's Unite Move charge rate.

Shadow Ball launches from Dusknoir's mouth and takes 0.75 seconds to come out, giving opposing pokemon a brief moment to escape from the move's range.

If Shadow Ball hits an opposing pokemon, it will 'attach' to them by covering up their heads, obscuring their vision for 3 seconds. When this effect wears off, the Shadow Ball will clear away, though the move's other effects are still active.

Shadow Ball will also increase the damage received from all pokemon by 35% for 6 seconds.

In addition, affected pokemon have their Unite Move Meter fill at a reduced rate for 10 seconds. Unite Move charge will be reduced by 50%, whether it be passively, from KO'ing pokemon, or from scoring goals. Shadow Ball+ reduces this even further by 65%.

Because of Dusknoir's reputation of 'stealing' souls and taking them to the other world, it is a pokemon that many would approach with caution. The truth is, it's not actually taking souls. Rather, it's taking away and inhibiting one's life force in order to weaken them, which seems much worse.

Shadow Ball affects not only the pokemon it hits but also their life force as well. In addition to obscuring their vision, it enfeebles them and makes them more susceptible to damage from you and your allies.

But that's not the worst of it. Shadow Ball will also inhibit the generation of opposing pokemon’s Unite Move Meter, extending the time it takes for opposing pokemon to receive their ace in the hole, so to speak. This gravely affects pokemon with slow Unite Move Meter generation, but it can also inhibit those with fast meter gain, like Blaziken or Dragapult, making their high powered moves less reliable.

Shadow Ball does have a bit of a windup to it, though, so if an enemy sees it coming, they'll either move out of the way or retreat. Their best option is the latter, as the blinding effect and the defense reduction make them vulnerable to follow up attacks from you and your allies. The upgraded version also reduces the charge time even more, though this will be difficult to take advantage of in the late game.

Instead of inhibiting the Unite Move Meter, Dusknoir may instead opt to steal it.

Move 2b: Destiny Bond (Debuff)

Casts a curse on all enemies in range. While active, the affected pokemon have their Unite Move charge rate transferred to yours. If an enemy is KOd while cursed, gain more Unite Move Charge. 15s cooldown.

At Level 13, Destiny Bond becomes Destiny Bond+.

Expands the area of effect.

Destiny Bond affects all pokemon within close range to Dusknoir. Affected pokemon have their Unite Move Meter transfer any charge amount to your own Unite Move Meter. This has no effect on wild pokemon.

If an affected opposing pokemon is KO'd while cursed by Destiny Bond, you gain an additional 10% Unite Move charge.

Destiny Bond+ expands the area of effect by 25%.

A fellow traveler is a stranger you'll know for a long time. Maybe they'll tell you their life story, or teach you a really good recipe for dinner. For Dusknoir, its travelling companions are often the dearly departed, so what it hears from these strangers are tales lost forever, known only to the pokemon itself.

Now, because of that, Dusknoir doesn't have a lot of experience handling company with the living, so when it uses Destiny Bond, it ends up taking the energy of their souls forcefully. You and me both, big guy.

Destiny Bond does only one thing, but it is powerful in its effect. By taking the Aeos Energy away from opposing pokemon, it prevents their Unite Move Meter from charging for 5 seconds. Any Meter that would be charged are transferred to Dusknoir instead, which is great, because its Unite Move is also pretty powerful, but more on that later.

By preventing opposing Unite Moves from being charged, you stall their generation for 5 seconds, meaning you have 5 extra seconds before the enemy can use their trump cards. Unfortunately, this doesn't have any effect on opposing pokemon that already have their Unite Mvoe fully charged, so Dusknoir will be in a bit of trouble if it tries to use Destiny Bond on such pokemon. Well, it would be, but its Pressure Ability reduces damage received from these Unite Moves, so it'll be fine for the most part.

The hard part is actually using Destiny Bond. For such a powerful effect, Destiny Bond suffers from a whopping 15 second cooldown, which can be argued to be way too much. If the opposing team knows you are running Destiny Bond, they'll be more wary of being near you, or they'll become a bit more trigger happy with their Unite Moves.

Crazy as it sounds, this is exactly what you want. You're an All-Rounder with the rare hybrid role of a Defender and a Supporter, so it's your job not only to distract the opposing team, but also to draw their fire. That's why its Pressure Ability works the way it does, and how Shadow Punch and Night Shade are designed to confound the opposing team. By influencing their decisions in when and where to use their Unite Moves, you've already done half of your job as an All-Rounder. Every second's worth of hesitation is extremely valuable to you and your team, you just gotta know how to spend it.

Because Destiny Bond transfers the Meter gain from opposing pokemon directly to you, you can expect to get your Unite Move often, especially if you make good use of the move in spite of its high cooldown. But just so you know, Dusknoir's devilish delights do not end with Destiny Bond, dare I say. Its devious diversions devour and distract the dull witted deviants of the day with its dynamic destabilization and dramatic draining.

Dang, I depleted my deck of D words. Dusknoir's Unite Move, everybody.

Unite Move: Soul Steal/Soul Banish

Soul Steal (Recovery)

Absorbs the target's life force, stealing some HP and Unite Move Meter and adding it to your own. 20s cooldown.

Soul Banish (Sure Hit)

Grabs an enemy and drags them into your mouth, forcefully returning them to their base. If the target is at a low enough HP percentage, instantly KO them instead.

Dusknoir has two Unite Moves it can use, depending on the amount of Unite Move Meter it has. If the Unite Move Meter is anything less than 100%, it will be able to use Soul Steal. Both Unite Moves are available as soon as Dusknoir evolves.

Soul Steal takes 15% of the opposing pokemon's HP, dealing piercing damage, and restores its own HP equal to the amount. It will also take 15% of the opposing pokemon's Unite Move Meter, or whatever is available, and adds it to your own Meter.

Soul Steal will go on cooldown for 20 seconds after it is used, though this doesn't affect the Unite Move Charge itself or stop you from using Soul Banish when it becomes available.

At 100% Unite Move Meter, Dusknoir's Unite Move becomes Soul Banish. It will grab an opposing pokemon and forcefully returns them to their base. If the opposing pokemon is at 15% HP or less, it will instantly KO them instead. You will see opposing pokemon who are at 15% HP or less highlighted on their HP bar when Soul Banish is available to you.

Soul Steal is unaffected by the use of Soul Banish and is also unaffected by cooldown reducing items and emblems.

Neither Soul Steal nor Soul Banish have any effects on Wild Pokemon.

Because of Dusknoir's ability to influence the Unite Move Meter of itself and opposing pokemon, it has to be balanced out by having a very late evolution, similar to Tyranitar and Metagross. It also gets its Unite Move at this Level, and it can use two different kinds depending on the meter available to you.

Starting off, by the time you manage to fully evolve into Dusknoir, your Unite Move will be fully charged, becoming Soul Banish. It is a Sure-Hit move that summons a large phantom arm from Dusknoir's belly, grabs an enemy, and sends them straight to the afterlife. OK, not really, it actually forces them to return back to base. It's like a reverse Hoopa Hyperspace Hole, where you point at an enemy and send them away for a short while.

The attack CAN instantly KO an enemy if you grab them while they're at 15% HP or less. In that case, yeah, they get dragged into the void, never to be seen again...or for a couple of seconds, depending on their respawn timer. You do have to be within attacking range to grab them, though, and most competent opponents will back off when their HP gets too low. Your best bet would be to coordinate some burst damage from your team to reduce their HP and then grab the victim before they have a chance to get away.

While the Unite Move itself is on cooldown, you'll have access to a separate move called Soul Steal. Where Shadow Ball and Destiny Bond operate by inhibiting Unite Move Meter gain, Soul Steal outright takes it from the enemy, along with some HP for good measure. This not only sets the opposing pokemon back in terms of burst damage potential, it can shut out their Unite Move if it gets taken while at 100%.

This is really debilitating for the hapless victim, as most players rely on their Unite Move to win difficult 1-v-1 fights or to make a big enough splash that they can turn the tables in a team fight or to retreat from an ambush. By taking away that ace from up their sleeves, you drastically reduce an enemy's potential impact on the flow of battle.

The 20 seconds of cooldown is quite frustrating to deal with, though. You can't even affect it with cooldown reducing items and emblems, since it's neither a move nor a Unite Move, more like a 'pseudo-Unite Move'. Also, the amount of Unite Move Meter you stole will most likely be restored, with interest, by the time Soul Steal comes off of cooldown. It depends on what Unite Move the enemy has and how long it lasts for. You also won't get a lot of meter from select targets like Blaziken or Dragapult, and you have no idea how much Unite Move Meter an opposing pokemon has.

The point isn't to hinder the enemy by removing all of their Meter, though. By using Soul Steal whenever you can, you'll quickly gain enough Unite Move Meter to use Soul Banish, which you can then use strategically against troublesome opponents during Objective fights. It also combos well with either Shadow Ball or Destiny Bond, as the longer you can delay the opposing pokemon's Unite Move, the less damage they can deal to you and your team.

You don't just take their souls, you take away their hopes and dreams and spirits and will to fight.

Achievements

Use Soul Steal a total of 10 times in one battle.

Sometimes an achievement isn't about difficulty. Sometimes it's about teaching the player how to optimally use the pokemon in the most indirect way possible. I know that that's how I've been constructing these achievements this whole time, but it's important to remember when it's something simple like 'use this effect a couple of times in a fight'.

Of course, there's always a catch to these sorts of achievements, or some nuance that makes them harder than they seem. For Dusknoir, it has to do with the fact that Soul Steal is only available to you when you are fully evolved and have access to your Unite Move. You will eventually gain enough EXP to evolve into Dusknoir, but if it happens late enough, you may not be able to use Soul Steal 10 times before time runs out.

There's also the fact that, when you do evolve, your Unite Move Meter will be full, meaning it will become Soul Banish instead. It's a great move, don't get it twisted, but if for some reason you really need to use Soul Steal, you'll have to use Soul Banish first. You cannot decrease your own Unite Move Meter to use Soul Steal unless you are up against an opposing Dusknoir.

Using Soul Steal many times eventually means you'll take enough Unite Move Meter to fully charge up Soul Banish, so if you want to go back to Soul Steal, you'll need to target a high-priority enemy like an over-leveled opposing All-Rounder if you want Soul Banish to be worth its usage. And then you'll have to do this repeatedly throughout the match.

And that's how they get ya. In optimizing your gameplay to get this achievement, you learn not only how the move works, but also the nuances around it. If you're going to be spamming Soul Steal and Soul Banish as often as possible in a match, you might as well figure out who to target with these moves in order to improve your odds of winning the battle.

When you ask a ghost to put a little soul into it, they do what they have to do to make do.

Holowear

Unlike most other pokemon, Dusknoir is perfectly suited for many kinds of holowear, even with that big mouth it has for a stomach. It's human-like shape gives us plenty of creativity in coming up with a fashionable set of expensive digital clothing.

Starting things off, Phantom Thief Style Holowear gives Dusknoir a fancy top hat with stylish brooches and clips and feathers, as well as a big stylish cape that flutters in the wind as it makes a grand escape. Ninja Style Holowear gives Dusknoir a shaggy hood and cowl and a headband on its forehead, as well as a vest loaded with ninja tools like kunai and smoke bombs. Although, with Magical Style Holowear, it becomes rather flashy with an oversized witch hat, a cloak tailored to expose its belly, and a satchel of books containing mysterious spells strapped to its side. Speaking of mystical, Guardian Style Holowear decorates Dusknoir with strangely shaped pieces of armor, giving it the appearance of a warrior from the days of old. And finally, it would behoove me to include the Spooky Style Holowear to Dusknoir's holo-wardrobe, giving it a black and orange scarf wrapped around its head, a top styled after a carved pumpkin, and bat wings and skulls plastered onto its arms and body.

Strategy

When Dusknoir has fully evolved and chosen both of its moves, their function can be separated into two different utilities; the first option changes how you become invisible, whereas the second option sabotages the opposing team's Unite Move Meter generation. This is very strange for what's supposed to be a bulky All-Rounder, until you realize that it's meant to be a hybrid Defender and Supporter, in the sense that it defends and supports the team by hindering the enemy and messing with their Unite Moves.

Of course, half of the battle is actually reaching that pinnacle of power, so you have to optimize the first 5 minutes of the game to Level Up as much as possible. You aren't strong or fast enough to reliably clear the Central Area, so leave it for an ally to take. Instead, you should be focused on supporting an ally on their way to the middle of Top or Bottom Lane. To that end, EXP. Share is actually a very solid item choice for squeezing some extra EXP out of wild pokemon while also increasing your passive Movement Speed, especially when combined with Levitate and Pressure.

Wild Pokemon aren't going to give you enough EXP to evolve, though, even with the EXP. Share working for you. Most of the extra EXP you'll be getting in the early game will be from coordinating KO's against the opposing team, and Duskull is perfectly suited to help an ally get that head start. With Astonish turning you invisible, Stunning enemies with the sneak attack, and Leer to blind and debuff the opposing team, you can KO any enemy you manage to ambush.

That's the idea, at least. If anything goes even slightly wrong, you'll find yourself suffering from an EXP deficiency while the opposing team is running away with points. It'll be tough, but if you manage to eke out some Levels, you'll evolve into the much more capable Dusclops, and use Levitate's evolved ability, Pressure, to your advantage. By this point, your Unite Move is fully charged, even while it's locked by the Level count, so your Movement Speed and basic attack speed are very high. Use these passive boosts to your advantage to put pressure, so to speak, on the opposing team.

But just having increased Movement Speed and basic attack speed won't be enough to turn the tables for you. You do need an ally to take advantage of the opening you provide, which is difficult enough for most Defenders and Supporters to deal with when playing alone. If you're by yourself, you'll have to make do with some dirty tricks, so don't be afraid to deceive the enemy with either Shadow Punch or Night Shade.

Between these two options, Shadow Punch is slightly safer, as it offers you a ranged attack that comes with invisibility and HP drain, but one hit will cancel the move, making it a poor choice against anti-stealth opposing pokemon like Shadow Sneak Decidueye or Fire Spin Delphox. Night Shade, on the other hand, requires some clever thinking to fully abuse, as it requires not just crafty plays like deceiving the enemy with obvious ploys, but also unpredictable gambits. By that I mean, you can use Night Shade to make a clone to your left or right, but expert players may know your game and suspect you are somewhere close by. You can trick these foolproof fools by placing Night Shade right next to you, confounding them by thinking 4 steps ahead. I can't guarantee this won't work against less intelligent players, but to each their own.

As long as you are playing well with a teammate, you'll get most of your EXP from securing the KO on the opposing pokemon. Do this enough times, and you'll evolve into Dusknoir. With the extra Attack power, you can play the Defender part of your All-Rounder role much more easily, and you can continue to hinder the enemy by depleting their Unite Move Meter with either Shadow Ball or Destiny Bond.

Shadow Ball is a direct upgrade to Leer in almost every way, with the downside of being able to affect only one pokemon at a time. It also has a windup to it, allowing opposing pokemon to move out of the way if they see the move being charged in Dusknoir's mouth. But if it does manage to hit, not only will it blind the enemy and increase the damage they receive for a short while, it will also hinder Unite Move Meter generation for 10 seconds. This can be debilitating for those with fast Unite Move charge times, as well as those with slow charge times. Quite frankly, it doesn't matter who it hits, unless the Unite Move is already fully charged, no opponent will want to get caught by Shadow Ball.

Destiny Bond is a riskier move compared to Shadow Ball, but it has a much higher reward. By bonding and cursing nearby enemies, it transfers all Unite Move Meter gain to Dusknoir, effectively siphoning it from affected enemies. This works in Dusknoir's favor, as its own Unite Move Meter generation is very slow, so it has to take it from opposing pokemon using Destiny Bond or Soul Steal, but more on that in a bit. It can affect multiple enemies at once, drastically increasing the charge rate of your Unite Move. If it hits an enemy at 99% Unite Move Meter, it basically prevents the meter from increasing any further until the curse wears off after 5 seconds, or if Dusknoir is KO'd first. 5 seconds isn't a lot of time, but it doesn't need a lot of time to shut out one of the most powerful options an enemy can use. If an enemy gets KO'd while cursed by Destiny Bond, Dusknoir will get extra Unite Move Meter, whether it directly KO'd the enemy or not.

At the same time you evolve into Dusknoir and upgrade Leer into either Shadow Ball or Destiny Bond, you'll have access to your Unite Move, Soul Steal and Soul Banish. It's unheard of for a pokemon to have two different Unite Moves, one of which functions independently from the meter, but it plays into your extremely slow Unite Move Meter generation.

Soul Steal takes HP and Unite Move Meter from a targeted enemy, giving Dusknoir not just reliable recovery but also reliable Unite Move Meter gain by taking it from an enemy. If you steal meter from an enemy that had their Unite Move ready to go, you'll effectively have stalled their Unite Move from being used for a little while. Now, the game is optimized enough to the point where most players run items and emblems to shorten the cooldown for their Unite Moves, but even without these effects, Soul Steal takes 20 seconds to come off of cooldown, which is more than enough time for the stolen Unite Move Meter to be regained. It's great if you take meter from an enemy that's nearly fully charged, but they'll get it all back later eventually.

Stealing Unite Move Meter helps out the team by delaying burst damage, but it's mostly for Dusknoir's own benefit that the meter gets taken. Like I said before, Dusknoir's true Unite Move, Soul Banish, requires a lot of time to fill all by itself, so it augments this wait time by taking the meter from the opposing pokemon instead with either Soul Steal or Destiny Bond. For all of its effort, Soul Banish will simply grab an enemy and forcefully return them back to their base. It's like Sableye's Phantom Ambush, but faster and you can only grab one enemy. If you grab a problematic opponent like a Decidueye or Cinderace hoping to snipe the kill off of Rayquaza, Soul Banish sends them back to where they came from and gives you a good 7 or 8 seconds before they can return.

If Soul Banish grabs a weakened enemy instead, it will instantly KO them. You will see nearby enemies susceptible to Soul Banish and the instant KO effect if the Unite Move is ready to go and their HP is low enough by their HP bar highlighted, similar to how other instant KO effects like Lapras's Perish Song show that these enemies will be KO'd by the attack if hit. If one of these susceptible pokemon is a frail Attacker or Speedster, you could use Soul Banish to get the KO, but it's not really worth spending the Unite Move Meter on such an easy target. If it was an opposing Defender or All-Rounder that have a habit of restoring their HP back full when in a pinch, like say Goodra and Buzzwole, then Soul Banish will be worth the attempt.

Ghosts are mysterious as they are fantastical, but the dangerous ones are those that wander between the realms of the living and the dead. When Dusknoir is on the field, you better make sure your soul isn't snatched by its big burly hands.

And this has been Dusknoir for Pokemon Unite. I have a habit of turning less popular pokemon into potential players for Pokemon Unite, and I won't apologize for that. But of the popular pokemon that I do like, Dusknoir is one of them, and I would love to see everyone's favorite fat phantom join the fray one day.

That'll be it from me for this week. See ya!

#Dusknoir #Dusclops #Duskull #Pokemon Unite

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mario8th · 5 months ago

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So, Two Things Happen At Once

Oh, I see. So it was plot relevant to continue dead-naming the Lion guy...

I think for this batch of episodes (Hunter X Hunter (2011) Eps. 113-115) the thing I was most impressed by was the pacing. The current fight(s) are, technically, progressing at an incredibly slow clip. Knuckle even comments at one point how long 10 seconds were taking. I think those ten seconds took like two and a half episodes or something!

But, the show accounts for this in two ways. One: Two Things Happen At Once*. There's the Youpi fight, then the Pouf fight, then Ikalgo's goings, then Meloreon's goings, then Gon and Killua's goings, then Wolf Guy's goings, then Short King's goings. Of course, many of these interweave at numerous points, but the show is always very clear at what people are where and when they are there.

We see one fight begin, then later two different characters look up and note that that battle is ongoing. We see the dragon take flight, only to hear the reverberation of it later in the episode. In the end, yes, barely any time at all has passed, but each scene has the camera focusing on a different set of characters.

And Two: Something is Always Happening. There's never any time where two characters yell at each other (there's almost no spoken dialogue at all, really). If they are there, it's to progress the narrative. Shoot takes damage and Knuckle deviate from the plan. Killua deviates from the plan, Ikalgo centers him. Wolf guy is suspicious, runs into Melleron, then starts questioning his own existence (?). The show is solidly in a dominoes falling phase, after having previously set up what seems like thousands of them, and now each scene gets to depict where the next lands. It's been incredibly enticing.

I'm fully expecting in a day or two I'll have to add an addendum to this when the MC+ crew decided to watch 4 episodes instead of 3. But, I think leaving it off at this moment, with Gon and Killua looking at Pitou. Gon has looked truly terrifying numerous moments throught these episodes, either cast in shadow, or drawn with a menacing aura. And this final shot was a fantastic contrast to when they first crossed paths.

Like look at episode 85:

(image description: close up of Pitou's eyes, filled with rage)

Compared to episode 115:

(image description: close up of Pitou's face, making a somewhat surprised expression, notably framed the same as in the previous screenshot)

Meanwhile, in episode 85, Killua took the split second decision to end Gon's rampage. Gon wen berserk after seeing Kite lose An Arm. Now that Kite is, y'know, Like That, and Gon has had weeks to let this anger fester, and has the express mission to Distract Pitou... Gon's going to make a big mistake, isn't he.

(I also really liked the stylization of Killua getting those guys while questioning why he was doing it, and the Ikalgo/Wolf guy/Melloreon stuff has been pretty funny, although I truly don't think deadnaming should be a plot point. And it is continually funny how the King holds onto flying guys.)

Naturally, I have no idea what the next episodes will bring. All I know for sure is that, when it's all done, I'm pretty sure Gon will be alive. Literally everyone else could be in danger. And by watching only these three, it leaves such it on the perfect cliffhanger and anyone who can't wait is weak

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*This is a reference to a common Austin Walker phrase while GMing the show "Friends at the Table." As mentioned, multiple things are happening at once, not just two. I could have used the other Austin-ism "Many thins happen at once," although it would have been less recognizable as a reference.

#Holy Crap it's been thirty episodes since Kite!?#Media Club Plus #Friends at the Table #Hunter x Hunter #Shizuku was not in these episodes #Nor was Banana #Hunter x Hunter spoilers

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ogsoulless · 6 months ago

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blinded golden - ally eclipsed 12/?, 29.2k, ongoing. [FIRST] [PREV] [NEXT] [LAST] [ao3 upload]

Impulse was a pretty laid-back guy. One Hermit Christmas long gone, a drunk Bdubs described him as 'the most un-serious responsible person he knew'. Pearl didn't see that Impulse now; he was frowning, arms crossed and leaning against the door of the Hotel. Whatever Scott had told him had not pleased him. Pearl glanced at Cleo, tilting her head towards the other two. They shook their head, loose petals fluttering to the ground. One deep blue flower got caught in her hair, stark against their fiery red curls.

They crept to a nearby bush, moving along the tree line. The Hotel was massive, over five hundred blocks of sprawling cobblestone. Circling around the back, she spotted a window with a missing pane of glass. Pearl tapped Cleo on the shoulder, directing their attention to the open second floor window. The zombie nodded.

Pearl breathed in. The easiest way to get up would be to break the wall and find a staircase, but that'd be loud, and she didn't know where Ren or Martyn were. That was the same reason she couldn't climb a tree and swing over to the window; Scott was also outside, and Pearl wouldn't put it past him to hear the creaking of the tree, no matter how quiet she was. She would always complain that he had an unfair advantage in hide and seek, even though she had the same powers.

Enderpearling, building a staircase, and swimming up water were all good methods but too loud. It left her with one alternative.

Pearl reached inside her, searching for that warm, rushing river that circled her ribcage. She sometimes thought of it as her second heart, but it pumped revenance instead of blood. It comforted her a little, to carry Tilly wherever she went. Even though she had died, all those games ago, her precious Tilly could go on to protect her. The memories of Tilly's velvety grey ears and round puppy eyes didn't send painful pangs to her heart anymore, instead filling her with the sense of home, just like random hills she passed by and Scott's smell of wildflowers did.

The rapids inside her roared, but she knew them too well to be afraid. Pearl let herself be swallowed by it, that power flowing through her, and she let Tilly guide her to her form.

Shifting always hurt a little, as expected when your entire bone structure changes. But it was never like this. Her ears felt like twin nails hammered into her skull. Pearl's eyes watered, and in an effort to keep quiet she clamped her jaw shut. But the painstaking splitting of her gums as her canines came through caught her off guard, and she ripped her lip biting down. She collapsed on the soft grass, her face turning into a snout. She had watched herself shift in the mirror a thousand times, but this time it felt like her skin was being peeled from her face by cruel little blades. Something was not the same.

Tears made her fur damp as she huffed. The pain hadn't stopped, but at least everything had seemed to stop moving. Gritting her teeth, she pushed up to her knees.

Pearl froze. The movement had started a second wave of her transformation and, to her horror, she could hear her spine cracking. Pearl whimpered as her hands and feet folded over on themselves to form paws, being broken and broken again as her skin split.

The pain was agonising, and so slow. A grating, broken whine met her ears, sending shocks into head. Pearl curled into herself, as much as it burned down her spine. Her paws twitched as her muscles spasmed, and Pearl desperately reached up to her ears to try stop the sound before she realised it was her whimpers she was hearing.

Pearl lay on the ground convulsing for what felt like a millennia. It felt like she had died and been rebirthed through scorching fire at least four times. After the waves had at least died a little, she rolled onto her back to test her legs. Caught off guard again, the pressure on her spine tripled as her legs locked into place. Through the hazy static of her suffering, Pearl's brain kicked into gear long enough to realise that she was screaming, but in her wolf form it was more like a raspy, high pitched howl. She could taste blood in her throat, and imagined it was shredded to a point of no return.

And she was still on the dirt outside of the Hotel. Alone. Cleo had been just over there, there was no way they couldn't have noticed. Unless she had noticed and didn't care. Pearl was no stranger to being abandoned. That was how she had won, and become a revenant. Scott's sacrifice had made them this way. Where was Scott now?

If no one had heard her by now, then she could've just broken in. Ugh. Pearl couldn't remember why she was here. Martyn. They needed to know why their powers weren't working. Martyn knew things. But Pearl didn't, because she didn't know where Cleo was.

Alone. Bile coated the inside of her mouth, stinging her raw throat. She swallowed it. Matted fur was the worst to clean, but she realised a little hysterically that she had bigger problems.

Pearl's eyelids felt so heavy, her body sluggish. Sleep would be so nice. As her eyes fluttered closed, a bucket of water was dumped on her face.

She gasped, jolting up, then groaned at the lightning bolt of pain the movement sent up her spine. Pearl spluttered, coughing in a futile attempt to clear the water from her lungs.

She squinted up at the figure above her, blocking the sun from Pearl's burning eyes. The person's face was cast into shadow, but frankly she was in too much pain to care about who they were. Her body kept twitching from the muscle spasms, which led to more pain, which led to more spasms. On and on it went, a horrible self-sustaining cycle of Pearl's suffering. If this person was here to hurt her, then they probably couldn't do more damage than she had already done to herself.

"Hey, don't pass out on me." Cleo. So, the poor puppy runs home. If Pearl had any energy or will, she would've flinched at the bitterness of her own thoughts.

Pearl didn't do well on her own, even before the end of Double Life, where she literally became a pack animal. She didn't know how people like Scar and Joel and Grian stayed as loners for entire seasons, and then go on to win. But Pearl never felt capable with an entire alliance behind her. They were probably better off without her.

Poor, manic, deadweight Pearl. Sometimes she thought her ribs might crack with the weight of the heartbreak she carried. It sounded like a stupid bedtime story. Don't trust too fast, because if your heart gets hurt too many times, your bones will break because it is too heavy. Tears stung down her face. She didn't know if they were more from the constant waves of pain or her wallowing. Once, there was a girl. Her heart crumbled because it broke too many times.

"Pearl." Cleo's voice sounded thick. Were they sick? They should go to get that checked out. "Come on, we've got to get you inside, okay?" Their voice was horribly soft, and Pearl didn't even want to consider the state she was in. She would look pathetic. Pearl would bet two fingers Cleo pitied her.

"You have to get up," Cleo urged, swiping an impatient hand to push their hair out of their face. "People have health and healing pots inside." If Pearl had her voice, she would've laughed. What could make people give her their precious potions? Not many people risked a trip to the Nether, especially not this early-game. And to be honest, Pearl was never worth a whole potion.

Cleo started picking her up from the ground, arms straining to get Pearl on her feet. She wasn't huge as a wolf, but even as strong as Cleo was, she wouldn't ask anyone to try and carry her. As they limped around to the front of the house, the pressure on her paws grew. It felt like Pearl's legs were too thin to be holding up her body.

When she had stumbled for the second time, Cleo stopped. "Are you sure you want to walk in? I could get someone else and we could carry you in."

Pearl knew Cleo to be ruthless. She held her allies close but wasn't afraid to do what had to be done. Pearl didn't know this Cleo: voice soft, a kind hand running over the fur on her back. She didn't feel like she deserved this Cleo; clearly meant for her better friends.

Pearl shook her head. Something told her that she needed to make this journey alone. Which already wasn't true, but that didn't convince her. Cleo nodded, but they didn't look happy about it.

The thing was, Pearl would count herself as 'pretty observant'. Maybe not as much as Cleo, who had to be considering they were always playing a massive game of spot the difference. But she had pretty good eyesight, 20/20 and all that.

She was normally pretty observant, when she wasn't aching from the aftershocks of her transformation and not completely focused on the rivulet of sweat dripping painstakingly slow down the side of her leg. Which is why she failed to notice the enormous rock in her path. Cleo was even trying to nudge her around it, but Pearl carried on her path forward and, to no one's surprise, tripped. Her ankle twisted, jarring up her front paw.

A rolled ankle Pearl could deal with. But as she pushed to her paws against Cleo's protests, a horrific cracking noise filled the air. She froze as her front leg went numb.

"Oh God, okay, uhm," Cleo said. "Don't you dare move. I'm going to go get, I don't know, someone." Pearl opened her mouth to protest, but only a pained whimper escaped. Cleo looked back, smiling in a way that was meant to be comforting but just looked sad. "You'll be okay, Pearl. Promise." They ran off towards the front of the Hotel.

Pearl couldn't bear standing and the weight on her feet, so she lowered herself to the ground and laid on her flank. The numbness was beginning to wear off, and aches and pains were beginning to ripple up her right side.

She didn't remember closing her eyes and going to sleep. But suddenly she was surrounded by people and it was so bright.

"Hey!" Cleo said, voice getting louder. Pearl squinted at her, trying to put a hand in front of her face before realising she was still a wolf and might have broken her ankle. Pearl didn't know if she imagined Cleo's sigh of relief.

"Okay, you're going to be fine. Ren here has a healing potion, you need to drink it, okay?"

Pearl couldn't quite find it in her to move, and nodding seemed impossible. She cracked open her jaw a little and hoped that would be enough.

"Crap- Cleo, look at this." Ren said.

"What- oh, fuck." A hand felt along the side of her head. "Let's come talk over here, Ren." Cleo's voice had lost of all the softness it had when she was talking to her, now hardened and thorny. "Oh, good. Martyn's here. Listen, Ren, can you go watch Pearl?" They didn't give him a moment to respond before leading Martyn away.

Sometimes, Pearl thought Ren had the roundest puppy eyes in the world. They looked so sad, and she wanted to stop whatever was making him sad. Exhaustion swept over her. It sucked so much, not being able to talk to her friends. The only one she could talk to like this Scott. Where was Scott?

"Listen, Pearl, it'll be alright." Ren began, his voice shaking the tiniest bit over the last word. "Us dogs stay together, yeah?" Ren couldn't shift, all he had to show for his wolf hybrid ancestry the ears on his head.

"Uhm. Okay. Once, there was a little bird. It flitted around the trees, until one day, it fell. No one knew why it fell. It broke one of its wings, and everyone thought it was done for, so they left it for dead." Pearl's eyes fluttered closed, and she felt the fur on the side of her head was sticky and matted, sticking up in tufts. Spots danced along the back of her eyelids. "Hey, come on, open your eyes, otherwise you can't hear the rest of the story." She forced her eyes open. Ren placed a hand on the side of her face, applying careful pressure right above her eye. "Anyway, the bird was rescued by a little dog. The bird was petrified of it, because it was taught that dogs ate birds. But not this one. It helped it get better, and then once it was healed, it flew off and the dog never saw it again."

Pearl's chest felt tight, but not from the story. It wasn't particularly moving, another shitty bedtime tale. But she appreciated Ren telling it to her. Her breaths were wheezy and shallow, coming faster and faster. Her ankle radiated pain, and it felt like she had been thrown from a cliff into stormy waters. But her body felt lighter, almost floaty, leaving her pain behind. All she had to do was close her eyes.

The darkness was all-consuming and lonely, but at least she didn't have to hurt. Ren's voice sounded so far away.

"Wait, wake up, Pearl-" There was liquid going down her throat, but the little warmth it gave didn't stave off the dark's approach. Ren had wasted his potion, and on her.

Why did he? Why, when it was obvious that no amount of Instant Health would work on a corpse?

☆

Pearlescentmoon died

☆

Grian felt a terrifying numbness set over him. Pearl was dead. Pearl was dead first, and he had no idea why. And it wasn't like he could go to investigate, because the Strayed chose what he did and the deaths of his friends didn't seem like something it would care about.

They still hadn't gone to see Gem, not for his lack of trying to convince the Strayed that they should. Gem was an asset, and the Reaper would be stupid not to try get her. Realistically, all he had to do was wait, because they had to interact at some point, but Grian worried that the Strayed would send Scar to do all the talking for it. There was also the fact that no one knew he was being possessed, so she might decide to not believe him.

It was also pretty hard to bide your time and be patient when certain doom was imminent. It felt like all the odds were stacked against Grian. He was a prisoner in his own body, a stranger to his friends because they all thought he was a traitorous dickhead.

And, to add more fuel to the dumpster fire of his life, Grian could feel his time running out. Sure, the Strayed couldn't use his power, but it seemed to be drawing on it to keep his body going. The Strayed didn't need food or sleep or warmth, so it didn't think that its vessel would. His revenance was being drained, and he didn't want to find out once the well of power was dry.

Being a revenant had become a massive part of him. Once it was gone, if he didn't die, Grian wasn't sure he would want to continue living that way anyway. The first few weeks after Last Life, Grian would wake up screaming from nightmare after nightmare of his skull splitting on bedrock. He would always be in horrible moods, and often took them out on Mumbo, accusing him of being a fake friend because he let him die, let him fall. It was unfair considering Mumbo had called to him that Joel was there as soon as he saw the red.

It was Grian's pride that had gotten him killed. He, for some stupid reason, thought that he couldn't be hurt. He thought he was invincible because he had helped make this place. The power and his victory had gotten to his head and he'd paid the price.

It took time, and a lot of hard conversations, but Grian had come back to himself. Mumbo had forgiven him, and he had embraced the supernatural side of him.

And now, the Strayed was going to erase all of that. Grian wondered if he was ever going to see Mumbo again. Etho had banned him from their base, so he doubted it.

But he needed to focus. If his revenance was being drained, then Grian couldn't guarantee what would happen once he had nothing left to give. His hands would be constantly tremoring from weakness and exhaustion at this point if he was let any control over his body by now.

Snap out of it.

Grian needed to get to Gem very very soon. The Strayed had been frustratingly stationary for the past two days. At least it had finally figured out that it needed to eat to keep going, but so far it had only consumed a stale loaf of bread. Typical.

He had to face it. They were going nowhere soon, and his time would run out by then. But it couldn't. He had no doubt that if he died, and his body couldn't host the Strayed anymore, then it would move on to one of his friends, and he couldn't allow that.

Knocking came from the door at the front of the fort, startling Grian from his thoughts. The Strayed went to answer, dragging its (their? his?) feet. Scar stood in the doorway, BigB behind him.

Scar glanced back at BigB, before before talking. "Hi, uhm, G. We've done what you asked, but no one's really listened. Except for B here. Which you already knew." He coughed, trying to fill the awkward silence. So, that's what they were here about.

The Strayed had instructed Scar to gather all of those who would fight for it and bring them to the fort it had made a base in. And either no one cared, or they were too afraid to do so.

"No matter. You have been loyal." Scar was carefully blank, but Grian saw his mouth twitch down. The Strayed said it like it was a glowing compliment. "I have decided that they will be summoned in a… unique way."

Scar nodded. Without his hat to throw shadow across it, his face was radiant from the mid afternoon sun, the ridges of his scars lit in golden light. Grian noticed freckles tracing along his cheeks. They were cute. Snap out of it. Right. Incoming, unavoidable doom.

"If that's everything?" He trailed off, turning away. BigB had already started off, his eagerness to get away telling him everything. Grian unnerved everyone, and only Scar had the courage to see him often. He appreciated it, and he desperately wished he could speak to him as himself, but it was safer if he stayed away. Stupid, stubborn Scar, who always insisted there was enough room in his heart for everyone. If something happened— no. Grian couldn't allow himself to even consider that.

He would do whatever it took. He couldn't hurt his friends more.

The thudding of his (its? their?) body on the ground pulled from his thoughts. The Strayed had collapsed, and Grian could already feel his awareness slipping away. And for the first time since this shitshow began, the Strayed spoke to him first.

Do not fret. You may be foolish, but you must survive this.

Of course I'm fretting! I'm freaking out! We're about to pass out and you don't know when we'll wake up.

No, but it is necessary.

Awareness dawned on Grian like a bucket of ice cold water. This was all on purpose. The starving, not sleeping… what could you achieve from wearing us down to nothing?

I was simply opening a vacuum to be filled. Soon, you will be reborn once again, but not to that witless Reaper of the Pull. It will be glorious.

Grian was racking his brain for what vacuum it could be making, and the memory of his draining power came to the surface. Of course, how did he not see it before? Revenance could act like a second energy source, if things came down to it, but it was often easier to just use your power to escape that situation. And…

You've been draining my magic on purpose.

Yes.

How could you… waste it like that? What have you done? My body's running on dregs, how do you know that I won't just die?

You will survive. I have left enough for your weak body to continue until it is time. And your power… it has gone to a worthy cause.

Grian felt like being sick, even though he couldn't bring any bile to the surface.

You've stolen it. My-

His thoughts of betrayal were cut off as his body finally succumbed to the dark.

#tay writeth #blinded golden #rev au #mdwp #mcyt #parkwipciv #life series #tumblr vers #pearlescentmoon #grian

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weirdestbooks · 11 months ago

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Secrecy and Deception Chapter 4

Hostilities Begin (Wattpad | Ao3)

Table of Contents | Prev | Next

Event: Stalin’s Hostile Speech

Location: Bolshoi Theater, Moscow, Russian Soviet Federative Socialist Republic, Union of Soviet Socialist Republics

Date: February 9, 1946

Stalin was giving a speech today in the Bolshoi Theater addressing voters, which Soyuz was here to listen to. He knew the speech was important, but he felt as if there were other things he could do, such as helping my puppets, the Republic of Mahabad, and the Azerbaijan People’s Government in Iran.

America was unhappy about that: Soyuz’s puppets or the conflict. However, Soyuz pushed those thoughts away as Stalin entered the rostrum to give his speech, and immediately, the crowd rose to their feet and began cheering.

"Cheers for great Stalin!" Soviet heard someone call.

"Long live great Stalin, Hurrah!" Another person said.

"Cheers for our beloved Stalin!"

The cheering lasted several minutes, but as soon as it stopped, Stalin began talking.

Stalin began his speech by discussing the events of the past eight years, from carrying out the Third Five-Year Plan to the Second World War, the war that dominated the past eight years.

He was right, of course. While the Five-Year Plan was essential to Soyuz, the Second World War impacted all nations and revealed everyone's strengths and weaknesses. It changed the world and opened new opportunities for the Soviet Union and its people.

Stalin then explained how the war did not break out accidentally or through blunders committed by politicians (although blunders were committed) but instead broke out as a result of a world order built on capitalism—a world order that does not proceed smoothly but instead proceeds through violent war, a world economy full of crisis and military conflict.

Soyuz knew capitalist countries enjoyed their wars and enjoyed trying to kill each other off to gain more power. They caused the First World War, and then they caused the Second. They caused all the deaths in those two wars and the other wars they had started. They were a problem for the world and would continue to perpetuate the cycle unless someone did something about it. That was Soyuz’s job, he felt. To end the cycle that the capitalist countries created and start a new world economy, free of war, where all countries could live as one big, peaceful family.

Stalin then explained how capitalist countries disturb the world system of capitalism by fighting over spheres of influence and raw materials, splitting the world into hostile camps that break into war.

Soyuz exhaled a small breath of a laugh. There were probably more than two camps, as capitalist countries will each fight for their own interests. They always end up at war with each other. They were greedy and violent and didn’t understand how to get along, and their wars were always so costly, especially for the innocents suffering in their colonies. Soyuz hated them for it. They were just like the Russian Empire. Uncaring and cruel.

Stalin then began to explain how wars over raw goods could be avoided, but how the current system did not allow for that, and how the crises caused by that system led to both World Wars.

Soyuz knew if something weren’t done, the pattern would point towards a Third World War. Which Soyuz knew nobody wanted, especially since America had the atomic bomb. Provoking America without something to deter him from using that weapon was a death wish. Provoking the capitalist alliance without a way to control America was a death wish.

Stalin then explained that just because the World Wars had the exact causes, it did not mean they were identical. He describes how the fascist states destroyed bourgeois-democratic liberties in their own countries before beginning their cruel reign, how they trampled on the sovereignty and free development of small countries in their goals of world domination and spreading fascism, and how they wanted to carry out their threat to enslave all freedom-loving peoples.

The Axis Powers were greedy. Soyuz didn’t know why Britain and France seemed so eager to give the Axis what they wanted, as both had to have been aware that it wouldn’t be enough for them. They had helped spread the fascist regime because they were afraid of war. It had been an idiotic move by two foolish nations that believed that because they were empires, everyone would bend over backward to listen to them.

Soyuz hated them.

Stalin then explained that this meant the Second World War was an anti-fascist war of liberation and that the Soviet Union’s entry into the war augmented this anti-fascist and liberating nature.

Soyuz smiled. Liberating countries was a crucial aspect of the war and set it apart from the First World War. There were not many countries that needed to be liberated then. He only wished that America and Britain weren’t so insistent on fighting Soyuz about the countries he had liberated and how he was helping them.

Stalin then explained how that formed the basis of the alliance between the USA, the USSR, and the UK, and it played a decisive role in the defeat of the Axis Powers. Stalin explained that the war was not an accident in the lives of the people but a war of the people for their existence, and, therefore, it could not have been a quick war.

Soyuz knew that to be true. If the war had been quick, Germany might not have been dealt with properly and could have risen again. A slow war caused more casualties, but at least it ensured the destruction of Germany and his ability to fight.

Stalin then began explaining how the Second World War was the fiercest war ever fought in the history of Russia and how it was not just a curse but a school that tested the forces of all people. Stalin explained how it made every nation lay bare all facts and events and allowed them to be examined without masks, and laid bare. Stalin also pointed out how this examination of the Soviet Union’s system and government helped sum up their world and threatened them accordingly, and how that was a positive side of the war.

Soyuz agreed that this was a positive side. It allowed the other countries to see that he was not weak and ready to collapse, as they had apparently been betting on. It allowed him to prove his merit and worth and show that he was not a weak nation, that he was not a nation on the verge of collapse. It allowed Soyuzto to see which nations were easy to subdue. It helped him find what nations might be significant threats to him.

That was a very positive side indeed.

Stalin then explained that the positive side was crucial for the voters as it allowed them to quickly and impartially watch the Party and draw correct conclusions without studying speeches and reports and comparing promises to deeds. Stalin reminded them that there was no guarantee against mistakes but that the war had verified the Party's work and made it easier to analyze their work.

Soyuz smiled. It was much easier now to see that the Communist Party was victorious. Whatever mistakes it made would be made up for by its ability to persevere.

Even the other countries would be able to see that Soyuz was a prosperous nation and that his form of government was successful. Eventually, they would see that it was better than capitalism, especially as Soyuz helped his new sphere of influence ease out of the governments that plagued them with sickness and give them a chance at a peaceful, strong, and unified life.

Stalin then summarized the war: Their enemies were defeated, and they ended the war with complete victory.

In the first major war Soyuz participated in, he won and eradicated his enemy. This was excellent, especially since Soyuz’s allies gave him much of what he wanted. Now, he could control Eastern Europe, and he would use that to his advantage in the future to guarantee allies and help spread communism to stop capitalist countries from advancing and to prevent America from becoming too powerful for any one man to stop.

Stain then explains that the summary is too general and cannot be the only summary of the war. He describes how the events of the Second World War were unparalleled in mankind's history and how to appreciate the importance of victory, the victory must be analyzed more concretely.

Soyuz knew never to take things at face value. Summaries of significant events weren’t always helpful in figuring out how they happened and their importance. After all, an overview of how Soyuz came into existence would not adequately explain how important it was that he existed. Whatever analysis Stalin had, it would be important.

Stalin then asked the theater how their victory should be interpreted and what it could signify from the point of view of the state and the development of internal forces. Stalin answered his own question by explaining how it signified that the Soviet social system was victorious and had passed the test of fire in the Second World War.

Now, the other countries could stop betting on when Soyuz would collapse. Now, they would stop underestimating him. Soyuz had proved that he was one of the most powerful countries in the world. And now, no one will mock him or his government again.

Stalin then explained how the foreign press had deemed their system doomed to failure and that any pressure on the government would have caused it to collapse. Stalin explained how the war disproved all that and proved that it was a system of the people supported by the people and a viable and stable form of government.

Soyuz smiled. No longer would hebe seen as a dangerous experiment but as a powerful nation, one of the most powerful nations in the world. This was one of Soyuz’s favorite war results. Finally, finally, he would be treated with the respect he deserved. He wouldn’t have to hear the insults and jokes made at his expense from France and Britain. Those two could now see that Soyuz would wield more power than they ever had.

Stalin then explained that the issue was no longer whether or not the Soviet Union’s system was viable because the war had proven it was. Still, it was now that the war had proven that the Soviet system was so effective that it was a better system than any non-Soviet system.

Soyuz’s government had proven greater. Germany did not conquer him. Soyuz was able to stop his invasion and turn it around on him. Meanwhile, France nearly became a puppet, along with almost every other Allied power in Europe.

Sure, Britain held out, but he had the advantage of being an island and still lost control of some of his colonies. America lost control of his colonies and only wasn’t invaded because he was too far away.

But none of Soyuz’s land was annexed or controlled by another power for long. Soyuz never became a puppet to the Axis. He persevered, and that lies in part due to his superior government system.

Stalin then said their victory signified that the multinational Soviet state had passed all tests of war and that all journalists who once said the Soviet Union would befall the same fate as Austria-Hungary were wrong.

Soyuz straightened at that. He was not Austria-Hungary. She was ruled by monarchs, an ineffective, weak, and pathetic form of government. Soyuz had a strong government that would ensure he survived any trial he faced. He was not weak.

Stalin explained that the war refuted all statements of the foreign press and proved them to be devoid of foundation. He explained how the war proved them all wrong because, unlike Austria-Hungary, the Soviet Union was not built on a bourgeois basis, which naturally breeds mistrust and hate, but on the Soviet system, which cultivated a sense of trust.

Soyuz smiled at that. He knew his republics were his family, however distant, and that they would stand by him no matter what. Unlike Austria-Hungary, he would ensure he had the loyalty and trust of his republics. The Baltics were a problem, but that was because they were insistent they were still independent states being occupied. They would see reason soon enough, even if America seemed to be encouraging their rebellion.

Once Soyuz had the atomic bomb, hopefully, that would convince America to stop doing that. If America continued to make a fuss about the Baltic states joining, he could use the influence of his bomb to get others to support him out of fear of the bomb. Soyuz had to be the counter to that.

Stalin then explained that the issue was no longer the viability of the Soviet state but the fact that the Soviet system proved to be a model multinational state, a state that had found a better solution than any other multinational state.

Soyuz succeeded where Austria-Hungary had failed. He had proven myself to the rest of the world, making them eat their words and fear his wrath. Soyuz was one of the most powerful and largest nations in history and would be looked up to by other nations for years to come.

Stalin then explained how their victory showed that their armies were not only victorious but heroic and skilled.

“Under Comrade Stalin’s leadership!” Someone yelled, prompting the audience to rise as they applauded Stalin. Soyuz smiled, both at the reminder of his victory and of his people’s pride in it. Soyuz had proven that the Soviet Union was not weak. Soyuz had proven everyone who thought he would fail wrong.

Stalin then explained that while now, everyone would say the Red Army proved equal to its task six years ago, that was not the case. Six years ago, he explained, the Red Army lacked a proper commanding staff and was poorly armed. It was fit for defense but not for attack, and if attacked by Germany, it would crumble. He explained how even the Soviet Union’s allies had no faith in their army.

Soyuz scowled. His allies had no faith in him and expected him to fail. But when the time came to negotiate, Soyuz controlled most of the terms. He proved to them that he was more capable than they ever expected, making them eat their words. Soyuz proved himself, and everyone who ever doubted him suffered for their mistaken conclusion.

Stalin talked about how the war refuted the statements and showed the Red Army for what it was: a modern army led by experienced commanders with modern armaments, high morale, and fighting qualities. Stalin then reminded everyone that the Red Army routed the Germans and struck terror in the hearts of the armies of Europe.

Soyuz made them eat their words. His army was able to defend his land instead of falling in less than six weeks. Soyuz's superior fighting force prevented Germany’s invasion from ever being successful.

Stalin then pointed out that there were fewer critics of the Red Army; instead, the foreign press praised it. Stalin talks about how this is understandable after the battles across the Soviet Union, Austria, and Germany and how it was impossible not to admit that the Red Army was an army that could teach other nations a lot.

Loud applause began, and Soyuz smiled once again, thinking back to those victories and Germany’s shock at some of them. Some may have underestimated Soyuz, but at least that gave him some semblance of an advantage then, even if he wouldn’t be underestimated again. But that was fine with Soyuz. He had power now and proved he could wield it with deadly force.

Soyuz might not be underestimated ever again, but he had created an intimidating presence that would help deter attacks. If only he had the atomic bomb, but that would come soon enough, and then not even America would be able to challenge him.

Stalin then explained how they understood the victory their country had achieved. Stalin said it was wrong to think a victory like this could have been achieved without the whole country's defense preparation. Stalin also said it was wrong to think that that level of preparation could be achieved in a few short years or that the victory was entirely due to brave troops.

Although the bravery of Soyuz’s troops played a role, they were part of the greatest army in the world and helped make his army that. They helped ensure the death of Germany. They may not have been the only cause of Soyuz’s victory, but they were nonetheless crucial in helping him achieve it.

Stalin then explained that victory was impossible without bravery, but bravery alone was not enough to overpower an enemy like Germany. It took a strong army and industry to fight and withstand the blows of such an opponent.

Soyuz’s industrial power. His great-grandfather, the Russian Empire, had kept himself weak by not industrializing until much later than the rest of Europe, keeping him from ever gaining more power. Thankfully, Soyuz overcame his weakness and proved that he was not his great-grandfather and would make sure the Russian Empire’s mistakes didn’t continue to weaken Soyuz’s father and the rest of the Union.

Stalin then pointed out that the Soviet Union had all those things before entering the Second World War and that the three five-year plans had allowed them to do that. After all, he pointed out, their situation in 1940 was far better than their situation in 1913 before the First World War.

The five-year plans had helped Soyuz and his father fix the mistakes of their ancestors and ensure that the Soviet Union would never be a weak agricultural nation again. The plans helped them be the last allied power in mainland Europe, unlike in the First World War when Soyuz’s Great-Grandfather had been too weak and had to be overthrown by his Grandmother, who was also weak and pulled them out of the war. Although, with the political turmoil, remaining in the war would have likely led to us being conquered by Germany.

Stalin then began reporting on how the Communist Party prepared the Soviet Union for war, comparing statistics on the amount of materials the Russian Empire had before the First World War to the amount of materials the Soviet Union had in 1940.

Soyuz knew those numbers well, having been staring at reports and other information on supplies ever since the war began.

Stalin then pointed out how the difference was colossal and that the growth of production could not be regarded as a simple development of a country but the process by which the Soviet Union turned the country from a backward, agrarian nation into an advanced, industrial country, while also referring to the Soviet Union as the motherland.

Soyuz sighed at the “Motherland” nickname. Unfortunately, the Tsardom of Russia had been female and cursed all her descendants, both male and female, to be called the Motherland. It was annoying at times, although it was still not the worst nickname Soyuz had ever heard, nor was it the worst name he had ever been called.

Stalin then explained how that transformation had occurred through the work of the Five Year Plans, which helped the Soviet Union heal from its wounds gained during the First World War before growing and changing the economy.

It was clear to Soyuz that if he and his father had not managed to change things for their country and ensure it industrialized, it would have most certainly fallen like the rest of Europe. But Soyuz’s government was strong and effective, and it had managed to make us an industrial nation that could succeed where the others had failed.

Stalin then began explaining how thirteen years was an incredibly short timeframe for this to happen. While the Soviet Union’s friends called it a miracle, their enemies called it propaganda and tricks. Stalin explained that miracles do not happen and that the Cheka is not powerful enough to annul the laws of social development, so “public opinion” abroad had to resign itself to the facts.

The other countries really did not believe Soyuz was capable of doing much. Well, if this war proved anything to them, it’s that he was capable of much. As much as being underestimated was an advantage, Soyuz didn’t like it. He was one of the most powerful countries in the world, and he wanted others to treat him that way.

Stalin then began explaining the policies the Communist Party used to advance in such a short period of time. He described how the Soviet policy of industrializing the country differed from the capitalist method. Stalin explained that capitalist countries first established light industries to accumulate wealth before creating heavy industries.

Capitalist countries didn’t know how to do things effectively then. If they were eager to drag their feet and wait until they had sufficient funds to set up industry, they would industrialize slowly. Soyuz, however, used a faster method that ensured he was quickly able to catch up to the capitalist countries and a menthol that he was sure would ensure he would not be behind again.

Soyuz would not play catch-up anymore. Let’s watch him advance faster; the capitalist countries rush to catch up with him. Soyuz would no longer let his father and himself be seen as backward.

Stalin explained that the capitalist process takes decades, and you must do it without heavy industry. The Communist Party could not take that path because they knew the war was approaching, so they needed to develop heavy industry because if they didn’t, they could be defeated. Stalin then explained that the Party remembered what Lenin said about it being impossible to protect their independence without heavy industry, so they rejected the capitalist method of industrialization.

Soyuz and his people took the most logical path to ensure they would be strong and protected from invasions. They took the path that would make sure they surpassed expectations and survived when others thought they would fail. If capitalist countries wanted to sit around, drag their feet, and wait, they could. All that does is give Soyuz an advantage.

Stalin then explained that it was a difficult task but one that could be accomplished through the nationalization of industry and banks. The Communist Party was able to complete this otherwise impossible task due to the nationalization of industry and banks.

Soyuz enjoyed surpassing the expectations of the other countries. The shocked looks on their faces that they tried to hide were amusing. While America and Soyuz don’t get along as well as they used to and disagree on multiple points, surpassing the expectations of Europe is something they both enjoy doing.

Stalin then began discussing the policy of collectivizing agriculture, how to end their backwardness in agriculture, and how to provide the country with many agricultural products. They needed to change from small-scale to large-scale farming, as only large-scale farming can employ modern machinery. Stalin then explained that there are two kinds of large-scale farming—capitalist and collective- and how the Communist Party could not adopt the capitalist method because it was a matter of principle, as well as the fact that it took too long.

Soyuz’s agriculture was nothing like his Great-Grandfathers'. It was better and more productive. However, given how his Great-Grandfather did some things, you had to wonder if he wanted to be a successful, powerful nation.

Stalin then began explaining the process of collectivizing agriculture, how they organized large farms by uniting peasant farms, and how it proceeded to be a progressive method as they could cover the entire country in modern farms in only a few short years. Stalin then announced that without the policy of collectivization, they would not have been able to end backward farming in such a short period of time.

Russia’s time of backwardness was over. Now that Soyuz was in charge, he would ensure that he remained one of the most powerful countries, a modern industrial nation that would never be seen as backward or weak again. The other countries took bets on when he would collapse. Still, they failed to see the big picture, which was that Soyuz had a superior system of government that allowed him to grow in power faster than they ever could and would allow him to become and remain the most powerful country in the world.

Stalin then explained that it would be impossible to say that the policy was not met with resistance and that not only the backward people incapable of change protested it, but even prominent party members had shied away from it and made the Party follow the capitalist path of development. He then explained how anti-party people tried to sabotage the party’s policies of industrialization and collectivization.

Soyuz huffed in annoyance. Those people were traitors and cowards. Those who refused to see how beneficial communism was and stubbornly clung to the past were cowards. And the rest, who wanted Soyuz to collapse, who wanted him gone, were traitors. They would not see the big picture and were too obsessed with themselves and their beliefs.

Stalin then explained how the Party never yielded to threats or protests, no matter what. He explained that it was to the Party’s credit that it did not listen to backward people and was not afraid to go against the norm, and during all that, remained in power. If the Communist Party had not done that, Stalin explained, they would not have been able to industrialize.

Still, traitors and cowards would not convince Soyuz to stop or change. He would persevere regardless of what anyone else did or said. Soyuz had proven that he could handle a world war. He had proven that he was not weak. Soyuz would not bow to the will of anyone else. If anything, they would bow to his will.

Stalin then said that the Communist Party could properly use material potentialities created and supplied the Red Army successfully.

They certainly did. Soyuz and his people had used what they had with effective and deadly force. They proved everyone who ever doubted them wrong, and they reclaimed their rightful place as a respected world power.

Stalin then began to explain the industry's successes during the war, ignoring the first year of the war when the industry had to be evacuated to the East. He discussed how it could supply the front lines with sufficient quantities of supplies and even enough to have reserves with a quality greater than that of the Germans. Then Stalin began to list how much they had produced, starting with tanks and armored cars.

Loud applause began as Stalin continued his list, each item accompanied by the applause.

Stalin listed the amounts of war material the Soviet Union had created throughout the war, including aircraft and guns, cartridges, shells, bombs, and mines.

Russia was no longer an agricultural nation seen as a backwater by the rest of Europe. Soyuz and his people had a mighty industrial force that would ensure their military was the best. They would never be the Russia of the First World War again.

Stalin then pointed out that it does not resemble how the army was supplied in the First World War.

Soyuz had proved to be better than his Great-Grandfather. Soyuz had a superior government, a superior military, and a superior economy.

Stalin then talked about how the Red Army was constantly supplied with food and clothing and never ran out, even having reserves, ending it by saying that this was how the matter stands regarding the activities of the Communist Party during and before the war.

Soyuz smiled. The Communist Party's activities helped them win the war. The Party ensured that the past did not hold them back and that they would see a prosperous future in which Soyuz had the power to dictate world affairs, just like he deserved.

Stalin then began explaining the Communist Party’s plans of work for the immediate future. He first brought up the new Five-Year Plan that would be implemented soon to rehabilitate the devastated regions of the country, restore industry and agriculture to the pre-war level before exceeding the pre-war level, and abolish the rationing system.

Loud applause began accompanying Stalin’s words.

Stalin began talking about how special attention would be devoted to producing consumer goods to raise the standard of living by reducing the prices of all commodities. Special attention would also be given to scientific research institutes to grow the Soviet Union’s scientific forces so that in the near future, they could overtake and outstrip the achievements of science from outside of its borders.

Soyuz had to keep developing. That would greatly help his country and help others see that communism wasn’t the ineffective form of government they claimed it was. Science was essential to achieve that, and his people supported this idea if their prolonged applause was anything to go off of.

Stalin then talked about long-term plans and how they planned to grow the economy to produce more.

Soyuz relied too much on America for supplies during the Second World War. He needed to ensure that his industries were effective, so he didn’t need to rely heavily on others, especially capitalist countries that helped cause the war in the first place.

Stalin then explained that with the long—and short-term plans, they could insure the country against all contingencies. He predicts it will need three or more five-year plans but is confident it can be done. Stalin then announced that his report on the activities of the Communist Party was concluded and asked the people in the theater to judge whether the Party was working on the proper lines and if it could have done better.

Laughter erupted at that comment as the applause continued. Stalin clearly had the support of Soyuz’s people, and that was good.

Stalin then said that people who say that victors should not be judged are wrong, as victors should be judged, and that judging victors benefits the cause and the victors.

Soyuz heard some people shouting approval, proving his point that Stalin had support.

Stalin says that will cause fewer swelled heads and make people more modest.

Soyuz knew that to be true, as it was something America, Britain, and France needed to learn. None of them had any concept of modesty, even though America had gotten himself injured. He didn’t see that as showing he was weak and instead bragged about it and bragged about his achievements. He was a fool, it seemed, but he was a dangerous fool. He held too much power for him to be taken lightly.

Stalin then talked about the election campaign and how it would be the result of the voter’s verdict and that the Communist Party was not worth a lot if it feared criticism and investigation. Stalin talks about how the Communist Party is ready for the election and how they are running against non-Party people, and that now, unlike in the past, non-Party people were no longer the bourgeoisie in disguise because the Soviet system separated the bourgeoisie from the non-Party people.

The bourgeoisie remained a threat, although they were thankfully becoming less of one. That would allow Soyuz’s country to thrive even more once all threats to its safety had been removed.

Stalin then explained how the non-Party people were united with the Communists under the collective body of the Soviet System and how they fought together in the war for the Motherland. Stalin explained that the only difference was that some belonged to the Party and some didn’t, but at the end of the day, the difference was only a formal one.

Applause began once more.

“In conclusion, permit me to express my thanks for the confidence which you have shown me—” Stalin began before being cut off.

"Cheers for the great leader of all our victories, Comrade Stalin!" Someone yelled as the applause became louder.

“—by nominating me as a candidate for the Supreme Soviet. You need have no doubt that will do my best to justify your confidence.”

The audience rose as they applauded Stalin, letting out different cheers of approval.

"Long live great Stalin, Hurrah!"

"Cheers for the great leader of the peoples!"

"Glory to great Stalin!"

"Long live Comrade Stalin, the candidate of the entire people!"

"Glory to the creator of all our victories, Comrade Stalin!"

——————

Event: George Kennan’s Long Telegram

Location: Department of State, Washington, District of Columbia, United States of America

Date: February 22, 1946

The District of Columbia tapped her foot nervously against the ground while waiting for her father to arrive. George Kennan, their charge d’affaires to the Soviet Union, had just sent an eight thousand-word telegram. It was a response to her father’s question about why the Soviets opposed the creation of the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund.

Unfortunately, the officials wanted to wait for her father to show up before they read the telegram. This meant DC was stuck anxiously waiting as someone got the message to Dad since he had been swamped recently, especially with the situation involving the Soviet Union and Iran.

“I’m here, what's going on?” DC heard her father ask as he arrived.

“George Kennan sent us an eight thousand work telegram,” DC said. Dad looked surprised.

“Jesus, that's long. I wonder what prompted him to write that much,” Dad said.

“It’s his response to why Soviet opposed the creation of the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund. I haven’t been allowed to read it past the first page, as I was waiting for you, but from what I see on that, it’s split into five parts.” DC said, holding out the telegram to Dad so he could read the first page.

The five parts in question were the basic features of the post-war Soviet outlook, the background of this outlook, its projection in practical policy on an official level, its projection on an unofficial level, and practiced deductions from the standpoint of US policy. Dad let out a sigh as he read the first page.

“Well, this is going to be a fun read,” he muttered before turning to the next page.

“Dad? I need to read it, too.” DC said. Officially, she didn’t have to, but she liked to know what was going on, especially since she often helped her father with work involving Congress. Dad smiled apologetically.

“Sorry, Dee.” He said before putting the document on the table so she could read it. DC looked down at the lettered points George Kennan had made, which was the start of part one. The first one, a, caught her eye.

��That’s concerning.” DC pointed towards it, “if Kennan believes Soviet thinks there can be no peaceful coexistence with the USSR.”

Dad nodded as DC looked at the other points made in part one.

Capitalist society spawns conflicts that cannot have a peaceful solution. Capitalist countries go to war with socialist countries as a way to escape conflicts in capital countries. Intervention against the USSR would end badly for anyone who attempted it, but it would slow down Soviet progress and had to be stopped at all costs. Wars between capitalist countries were a danger to the USSR but also would allow for the advancement of socialism if the USSR was militarily powerful. The capitalist world was not all bad, and any activities favorable to the interests of the USSR must be utilized for Soviet purposes. The most dangerous elements of capitalist society are non-communist left-wing groups.

Basically, Soviet only liked the world if it worked to serve him and his interests if what Kennan was saying was true.

“Well, those are concerning points. I mean, I knew Soviet wasn’t the biggest fan of capitalism, but I didn’t think he was this hostile towards them and thinks that we are always at war.” Dad commented.

“To be fair to him, he isn’t that old, and he already has had to deal with the bloodiest war humanity has ever seen. It makes sense that it would impact his view of the world,” DC said, trying to think of why Soviet would believe these things.

“Yes, but still, if Soviet believes that there is no cooperation with capitalist countries, then we definitely aren’t going to be able to cooperate with him at all in the future,” Dad said. DC nodded. He was right about that.

DC looked at the next list of bullet points, which were the deductions that the first points led from the standpoint of Soviet policy. DC read the first point: everything must be done to increase the strength of the USSR, and no opportunity must be missed to reduce the strength and influence of capitalist countries and was already concerned.

DC glanced at her father and saw him biting his lip and looking a bit nervous. Her father didn’t like feeling targeted. He would much rather everyone leave him alone, but this targeted him.

DC sighed. They were definitely not going to be the Soviets' allies for much longer. The next point was just as concerning. Soviets and their allies must work towards deepening and exploiting differences and conflicts between capitalist countries and, if possible, starting a socialist revolution. The point following said that democratic, progressive elements abroad must be used to the maximum extent to make capitalist governments work on lines agreeable to Soviet interests.

Yeah, they definitely weren’t going to remain allies with Soviet.

“So the Soviet Union wants to do everything it can to eliminate capitalist countries,” Dad said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “That’s a major problem. At least President Truman will get the opportunity to take a hardline position against the Soviet Union like he wanted.”

DC nodded and looked at the last point of part one, which said that a relentless battle must be waged against socialist and social democratic leaders abroad. Was that something Soviet that he must do? It seems counterproductive.

“Well, that’s all for part one. Do you want to bet that part two shows that the Soviets are going to continue being allies with us?” DC asked, knowing that part two would probably paint a bleak picture of their relationship with the Soviet Union.

“Well, part two is going to draw attention to ‘certain aspects of the party line in practice, ' which probably means it’s not friendly towards me, based on what we’ve seen so far,” Dad said.

“Well, it starts off by saying what the government says does not represent the outlook of the Russian people and that the Russian people are friendly to the outside world. It also says that the party line puts out a bunch of propaganda that the Russian people are resistant to. That’s just the first point as well. Maybe that means Soviet wants to be allies with you, but his government doesn't.“ DC said, trying to look on the bright side. Dad sighed.

“Still, even if Soviet wants to be allied with me, he can’t exactly go against the government. Kennan says that what the communist party says is untrue and that capitalist and socialist countries can coexist. I guess we’ll have to see if that ends up being true.” Dad said.

“Hopefully, it will. The Soviet government seems insistent on being our enemy, although Kennan seems to think Soviet’s people are not, which means that Soviet himself is probably more likely to like us. Of course, if Kennan is wrong…” DC said, trailing off, knowing that her father would understand what she meant.

“Kennan is right that the war showed that capitalist countries aren’t gunning for Soviets' death and that capitalist countries at war don't end up with a…civil war and revolution,” Dad said, hesitating at the words civil war.

“Kennan also thinks that the ideas are baseless and disproven but are still being used because the party line is based on inner-Russian necessities that existed before the war and didn’t have anything to do with places outside of Russia,” DC added before looking at the next part and preparing herself for her father’s reaction.

Hearing Dad snicker, DC sighed, raising her eyebrow and turning to him.

“This is important government business. Stop laughing because he called Russians insecure,” DC said. That only seemed to make her father burst out into actual laughter, causing her to sigh again.

“Sorry, sorry, it’s just very amusing,” Dad said, trying to suppress the giggles escaping his lips.

“Let’s continue; you can laugh about this later,” DC said. Dad nodded, but his giggles continued. Why did she have to be the mature one again?

“The insecurity originated from Russia sharing a vast plain with nomads and was encouraged by coming into contact with the economically prosperous West, and it’s part of why Russian leaders oppress the Russian people,” DC said, reading more of the section as Dad’s laughter died down.

“So Soviet could think higher of us than his government does, although it’s not a guarantee that he will actually act on these thoughts if they do exist,” Her father said, surprising DC by not making any jokes about Soviet being insecure.

“Seems like it. Kennan also says Russian leaders are paranoid, which is obvious. We saw that with Russian Empire a lot. And Russian leaders wanting to destroy rival powers is also not a surprise. Although Kennan claims this is why Marxism thrives in Russia because Russia has never had a separation of powers.” DC said.

“That may be likely, as Marxism hasn’t been able to create a stable foothold for itself anywhere else. Of course, that could also be because no one has gotten the chance, although that group in China does have me worried for China’s well-being, especially since the group has its own personification. That’s not the point of this, though.” Dad said, getting back on topic almost as quickly as he had gotten off-topic.

“Kennan also says the Bolsheviks use Marxism to justify their fear of the outside world and that they are way more paranoid than any previous Russian ruler. Kennan also says that ethical values can’t be used under Marxism and that Russians sacrificed their ethical values for Marxism.” DC said. Dad groaned.

“That’s always something you want to hear about a government that hates you.” Dad muttered, “And said government increasing military and police power also isn’t fun to hear. Although that’s not that uncommon when you look at some of the shit Russian Empire did. Although this part, the one about Soviet leaders being driven by necessity to portray the outside world as evil, has me wondering what the necessity they feel is.”

“Kennan also thinks that Russian people are dependent on what the government says. Does that mean the Soviet Union will side with his government?” DC asked. Dad shrugged.

“Time will tell. Hearing Kennan say that all Russians viewed stated facts as having ulterior motives does seem to explain a bit about Soviet if I’m interpreting that situation correctly. Hearing about how Stalin might be the only person in the Russian government who had all the information about the outside world makes me wonder what Soviet is allowed to know. He might be kept in the dark on some things,” Dad said.

“Do you really think his government would keep him in the dark?” DC asked. Dad shrugged.

“It's best to keep all options open. It's better than being caught off guard.” He said, “Ready to read part three?”

“Yes, I am.” DC said, going to read the next part, “So there are two planes in which Soviet policy is conducted, official and unofficial.”

“It’s always nice when someone has unofficial policies,” Dad muttered before speaking normally. “Well, let’s see what policies Kennan says are on their official plane. Ah, internal policies that will increase Soviet’s strength? By making great displays to impress outsiders? Color me surprised. I never would have guessed that that was going to be on the list.”

“And Soviet taking whatever chance he can to increase the limits of his power? Also not much of a surprise. We’ve seen what’s going on in Iran. And claims appearing on an official level after unofficial preparations are complete also make sense. Kennan also seems worried that Soviet could force others to give him bases and access to ports. I mean, Britain forced who was it, Qing Dynasty? I think it was Qing Dynasty. But anyways, Britain forced Qing to do that for him.” DC commented.

“It was Qing Dynasty. To get back on topic, it doesn’t surprise me that Soviet Union only participates in international organizations so it can try to expand its power. We had to guarantee him veto power and two of his republics a place in the UN just to get him to join. And would you look at that? Kennan says Moscow sees the UN as a place where its aims can be pursued and will abandon the UN if that doesn’t happen,” Dad said.

“And now Kennan is back to talking about how the Soviet Union wants to weaken us to create a vacuum favorable to them. And how the Soviet Union is going to create Soviet representation in countries that don’t like us or the European empires,” DC said. Dad sighed.

“I hate that I’m now a target for people.” He said.

“Me too. But at least you’re not the only person the Soviets are targeting. Kennan also says the Soviets are going to try dominating international economic matters and might end up only trading in his sphere of influence. Also, there will be a lot of lip service and deepening cultural mistrust between people, so long as it doesn’t hurt him.” DC said, “Also, elections are going to stress the prestige of the USSR.”

“Well, that’s part three. Ready to hear about what Soviet is doing unofficially because I’m not,” Dad said.

“Why not?” DC asked.

“Unofficial policies are always more….” Dad said, trailing off, “I don’t know how to word it, but you know what I mean.”

“I do. Anyway, this part starts with the agencies Soviet uses to enforce his unofficial policies,” DC began.

“Well, at least it’s useful information,” Dad muttered.

“Inner central core of communist parties in other countries; rank and file of communist parties, which means that they would only use the communists of certain countries; national associations that can be influenced by communist parties; international organizations which can be influenced by communist parties; Russian Orthodox Church, and through that the Eastern Orthodox Church; Pan-Slav movement and other movements based on ethnic groups within the USSR; governments or government groups willing to lend themselves to Soviet purposes,” DC said as she listed off the agencies. Dad finally sat down, putting his face in his hands.

“I am not ready to deal with this.” He said before looking up and sighing, “I’m assuming the next part is Soviet’s unofficial policies?”

“Yes. The first of Soviet’s unofficial policies, according to Kennan, is to undermine political and strategic potential in Western countries by disrupting national self-confidence, hamstringing measures of national defense, to stimulating all forms of disunity. And encourage people to revolt in a violent struggle for the destruction of these elements of society.” DC said before looking at her father, who had his arms wrapped around him, “Dad?”

“Sorry. I just…I just don’t like the mentions of disunity.” He said, before reaching for the telegram, “Let’s read the second point. Oh, how interesting. Violent efforts will be made to weaken the power and influence of Western countries and their colonies. Soviet is going to exploit our weaknesses and encourage colonies to get their independence.”

DC gave her father a look, knowing that he can’t avoid thinking about the Civil War forever, even though he seems to be doing his best too.

“Governments that stand in the path of Soviet purposes will also be pressured to leave office,” DC said, reading the next point.

“Good luck with that.” Dad said with a laugh, “Although if what Kennan says in this fourth point is true, they might have luck doing that. Uh, the fourth point is that communists in foreign countries will work towards the destruction of all forms of personal, economic, political, and moral independence.”

“Kennan also thinks that the Soviet Union will do anything it can to set major Western powers against each other, which aligns with what we have read so far. Kennan also says that Soviet effects on an official national plane are designed to tear down sources of strength outside of Soviet control,” DC said.

“So Soviet wants to become the most powerful country,” Dad stated. DC nodded.

“It seems that way, which means that you’ll be his main target,” DC said. Her father’s eyes widened.

“Shit! Right, I’m the most powerful country in the world now. How fuck I’m the most powerful country in the world now.” Dad said, worry and surprise appearing on his face. It seems like that fact has finally hit Dad.

“Do you want to read part five? Or do you want to wrap your head around that?” DC asked.

“Let’s finish reading the telegram. I can wrap my head around that fact later.” Dad said. DC nodded and went to read part five.

“It starts off saying the Soviet is going after you,” DC said, causing her father to groan. Kennan says Soviet sees it as necessary to destroy everything about you and has an elaborate apparatus for extending his influence in other countries.

“Great. Just…that’s not going to be fun to deal with.” Dad said. DC smiled.

“Kennan agrees. He says this will be the greatest task our democracy has ever faced. But he does think you have the power to solve the problem, and he’s given some observations he thinks might be helpful in that regard.” DC said. Dad leaned over and took the papers from her hand.

“Oh, thank god Kennan did this. He says that Soviet power is not schematic or adventuristic. And that Soviet doesn’t work in fixed places, but he doesn’t take unnecessary risks. He says Soviet is sensitive to the logic of force but doesn’t listen to the logic of reason. And that against the Western world as a whole, Soviet is weaker. He also says that the Soviet system, as in internal power, has yet to be proven successful, because it hasn’t demonstrated it can handle a peaceful transition of power.” Dad said as he began reading Kennan’s observations.

“No one thought we could handle a peaceful transition of power until the Election of 1800 proved them wrong,” DC said. Dad smiled.

“Dad seemed surprised when I was fine after that election. I think he thought if that election ended in fighting, he could use that opportunity to make me his colony again. Also, Kennan’s last observation is that Soviet propaganda is negative and destructive and can be combated with an intelligent and constructive program.” Dad said before putting the telegram back on the table.

“Is that all to the telegram?” DC asked. Dad shook his head, and DC picked it back up to read the rest.

“Kennan has some ideas on how we should handle the situation. He says we need to observe the movement but not allow ourselves to be emotionally provoked or used by it; he says we have to educate the public on the realities of the situation, keep our society healthy, and that every internal problem that we solve is a victory over Soviet; we need to put forewarn a positive and constructive picture of what the world should look like; and that we should have the courage and self-confidence to cling to our own conception of human society.” DC said, reading out the rest of the telegram.

“We have a lot of work to do then, especially since we have a target on our backs. But before we do that, I need to process the fact that I’m the most powerful country in the world,” Dad said before leaving the room.

DC looked back down at the telegram she was holding and sighed. Things were definitely going to change.

#secrecy and deception by weird #historical countryhumans #countryhumans #countryhumans america #countryhumans ussr

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the-whumpening · 1 year ago

Text

The Backstory Arc, Part 3

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More context crumbs: A couple weeks after Part 2, the party is gearing up for their next mission. They've secured passage on a ship to head across the map to the far north, where they intend to search for Krumgus' missing parents. Ash and Uma have parted ways, and Evius has entrusted his parents with his son. (I hope Evius doesn't seem like a tool; he's just had to make a lot of tough decisions, and some of that nuance is lost once the story is written down.)

CW: violence (i'd call it mild), mind control magic, blood

As they board the ship, Evius removes his disguise ring, and something catches Ash’s eye. He stops Evius in his tracks, gingerly lifting his arm by the wrist to inspect the new black lines on his skin.

"Do you . . . do you have stripes now, Evvy?" A tiny flicker of panic pops in his brain. "Mine aren’t contagious, are they? I knew I should've covered my sneeze like Kane said . . . "

Evius tenses for a moment at the unexpected touch, chuckling as he relaxes once more. "It's nothing like that, darling. It's a magic tattoo I purchased when we first got into town. They're a bit rare, so it took some time to get made. It's supposed to help protect me from harm a little." He pulls the front of his shirt down just enough to reveal the image of an eye over his heart, from which erupted a web of black lines.

"So it's like . . . magic armor? How do you know if it works? Have you tried it out yet?" As he inspects the eye on Evius' chest, he’s split between curiosity about new, fancy magic and concern for Evvy's safety—and, perhaps, a twinge of yearning at Evius’ exposed skin.

Knitting his brows together, Evius crosses his arms in thought. "You know, that's a very good point, Ash.” He smirks, bumping Ash up the deck with his hip. “My, you're sure coming into those smarts. I hadn’t actually given that much thought yet. I'd hate to hop into a life or death situation without knowing it works. Maybe . . . ” His pointy grin grows into a conspiratorial gleam. “You could help me find out?"

A streak of feral energy ripples through Ash; it’s been so long since he’s had a chance to roughhouse with anyone. And, being in the city, he and Evius haven’t even had a play-hunt in months. "Does that mean we can spar?" His fangs glimmer with saliva at the thought of a good fight. However, he blinks away some of the crazy and composes himself. "There would have to be ground rules, of course. I don't want you getting hurt . . . or to have an unfair advantage." He pouts, knowing Evius' magic is immensely stronger than his own meager spells.

"Oh, don't worry—I'm rather limited here on the ship,” Evius assures him, though Ash remains doubtful. “I can't use anything seriously destructive. No Eldritch Blasts or Firebolts. Tell you what, I'll even hold off on Rays of Frost out of an abundance of caution. However, all my other spells are on the table, deal?" As he lays out his offer, he coils his tail around Ash and winks.

Ash thinks for a second, ignoring the goosebumps rising up his spine. "No flying, either,” he sulks. “It's not fair if you're not on the ground. Same rules as always?”

Evius kicks off his shoes and drops his bag before taking off towards the rear of the ship, tearing his shirt over his head and yelling back towards the half-tiger, "You're on, big man!"

Ash carefully unclasps his cloak and sets it down with the rest of his stuff before rushing after Evius. But, seeing Evius’ slender frame chase away from him, his gut twists anxiously. Is this a bad idea?

At the back of the ship, the two clear some space among barrels and crates of supplies. An awkward energy hangs in the air. Ash doesn't want to be the one to strike first—how could he? This is Evius, after all. As much as he's dying to fight, he and Evius have never had a genuine sparring match like this; he’s always held back. He knows Evius is strong and capable, but . . . he can’t imagine hurting someone he cares about like that.

"It's a lot like dancing, isn't it?" Evius offers with a wry smile upon seeing Ash’s hesitance. He produces a dagger from his hip, juggles it with a flourish, and throws it at Ash.

The knife zips through the air and slices Ash's shoulder before sticking into a crate behind him.

"I'm always the one to lead."

"Shit!" Ash double-takes between the blood dribbling from the slice in his arm and Evius' smirk. "Okay, I guess it's my turn then," he chuckles, a small flush of embarrassment coloring his face.

He rushes toward Evius, aiming to just get one not-too-painful hit in. His fist whiffs past Evius on his first attempt, confused as Evius nimbly swerves out of the way. But as they circle, he tries again—success!

His shoulder collides with Evius' torso, briefly lifting him off the ground. The tiefling slithers out of his grip though, leaving the two still facing off, equally matched.

"You're quicker than I remember," Ash huffs, a little out of breath.

Evius coughs, winded a little from the collision, but otherwise fine. "That all you got, kitty cat? I've taken worse hits from Nalia. Or is it that you can't bring yourself to hurt me?" He taunts, lacing his words with Vicious Mockery.

He lunges forward to slice at Ash with his second dagger, but he is thrown off by Ash's befuddled expression and loses his balance—missing his target and falling prone.

Ash offers a hand to him, pulling him easily to his feet.

"Of course I don't want to hurt you, dummy!" He takes a step back, his brow crinkling in confusion from the spell. He can feel the surge of his rage just starting to bubble up, but he tamps it down for now. Gotta stay cool. Can't get too out of control.

Planting his feet, he gestures for Evius to try again to hit him. It's only fair to let him try again.

"Come on. I can do this all day!"

After dusting himself off and recovering from his embarrassment, Evius chuckles and flicks him on the nose. "You're awfully cute when you're being chivalrous, but don't forget the point of this exercise."

He backflips away from Ash and, as he lands in a nimble crouch, his eyes flash with indigo light. "Come at me with all you've got."

The suggestion crawls through Ash's mind, latching on firmly. Initially, he's a bit confused: With all I've got? What does that mean? But, almost against his will, his muscles flex and bulge, readying for an attack.

"All I've got, Evvy?"

Ash charges, swiping Evius in the ribs with the staff of his spear. He snarls in Evius' face, leaning in nose-to-nose. He's quickly losing his composure, and he can feel the rage almost surfacing.

Evius stumbles back and grunts with the impact of the spear. Through the haze of his foggy mind, Ash can see the panic beginning to rise in Evius. Still, he can’t press the energy down any further—sooner rather than later, it’s going to spill over.

Shouting another spell in Infernal, Evius spins away from Ash, and a silvery mist surrounds him. When the mist dissipates, he is no longer in front of Ash, but up in the rigging, leaning against the wooden mast with his arms folded.

"Hey!” Ash snarls. “I said no flying!" A trail of lightning wraps around Evius' waist, yanking him down to the deck, coming to a stop arms’ length from Ash.

At that, the kettle boils over, and Ash begins to rage. It's not a purely anger-driven rage, but an explosion of emotions he's been stuffing away for who knows how long—anger, fear, frustration, desperation—

"You want all I've got? I'll show you all I've got!" he roars.

Pulled from his perch, Evius is startled but quickly regains his composure. He lands cat-like on the deck and responds, "That wasn't flying, my sweet boy. That was teleporting. Technically within the rules, but I should think you are beyond semantics at the moment."

With a roar, Ash snatches Evius off the ground, a firm grip holding his legs while his chest dangles on Ash's back. Spying a nearby crate, Ash reels back and slams Evius onto it.

Looming over him, the sound of his own pulse thumps in Ash’s ears, but the smell of blood and sweat scintillates his feral brain.

Using Ash’s momentum against him, Evius kicks out and shoves Ash away. He leaps to his feet, crouching with his dagger brandished before him.

Ash deftly recovers, tumbling backwards and landing in a similar prowling lunge.

He pounces forward, his hulking frame smashing into Evius. With one hand, he slams the hand holding the dagger into the deck, forcing him to drop the knife. With the other, he engulfs Evius' throat.

Completely out of control now, he squeezes the sides of his throat, his claws starting to dig in. Whatever reservations he once had about hurting Evius, he can’t remember them now.

Evius grips Ash's wrist with his free hand and croaks out through gritted teeth, "That's really all you've got?"

A growl ripples through Ash's body and slithers out of his gnashed teeth. He presses harder, his claws now firmly sinking into the tender copper skin of Evius' neck.

"You haven't seen anything yet," he hisses.

Beneath him, Evius’ lips grow pale. His sputtering breaths come more and more frantically, until Ash can barely hear them at all. His eyelids flutter over his now-dulling golden eyes, his wispy white lashes beading with panicked tears.

His hand drops. With his little remaining breath, he weakly calls out, “Ash . . . “

As the spell loosens its grip on Ash's mind, the fog of rage also lifts. He can think clearly again, and that allows him to clearly process what's in front of him. His hand, fiercely crushing Evius' throat, and Evius with a glassy-eyed plea beneath him.

As if touching an electric current, Ash jolts backwards, snatching his hands away from Evius' neck. He sits back on the deck, his face contorted in horror. Hot tears stream unrelentingly down his face, and he covers his mouth in anguish.

"Did I—?" he squeaks through his fingers. "H-how . . . Evvy . . . I'm so sorry!"

Gasping and coughing as he sucks in air, Evius shakes his head and sputters out, "No, no—Ash . . . It’s not, not your fault." He hefts himself to his knees and catches his breath.

Once his body has settled again, he scoots closer to Ash, reaching out to hold his panicked face. "You didn't do anything wrong. I'm perfectly fine, I promise,” he soothes. “I'm alright, you're alright. Everything is okay. It was my spell that pushed you so far. I think we can safely say the tattoo works, though.”

The driving pull Ash had been feeling the whole fight finally started to make sense. But even so, to know he’s capable of something so terrifying—it rattled Ash. He could see the bruises he left and the drips of blood along Evius’ throat. It nauseated him.

“You used a spell on me? And it . . . it made me do that?” He gestures to the claw marks and bruises, afraid to actually touch them with his fingers. He looks up to Evius with pleading eyes. “Why? I . . . I could’ve—“ he clamps his hand back over his mouth, too horrified to finish that thought.

"There was never any real danger,” Evius assures him. “If I lost consciousness or if you took any damage, the spell would end. You couldn't have killed me, no matter how far it went." Evius chuckles breathily, continuing, "Besides, I wanted to give you a chance to stretch your legs a bit. You've not been able to let loose in. . . well . . . a while. And I did want to know if the barrier tattoo was effective."

“So you commanded me to try to murder you?” The horror begins to subside knowing that the stakes weren’t quite so high, but the hurt remains. “Evvy . . . what the hell were you thinking?! Even if you just passed out, that’s still . . . Ugh!” He groans in frustration, unable to even articulate how baffled he is. Evius has made stupid, impulsive decisions before, but this is a new level.

He takes a couple deep breaths to steady himself, but as he does so, he notices Evius’ expression begin to glaze over. It’s clear to him that Evius is beginning to check out mentally, running away from his feelings as he usually does. But then . . . he’s gotta be scared too, right? Ash realizes. And in pain . . .

Shaking off his residual anger, Ash gets to his feet, gently pulling Evius up with him. “C’mon, you’re hurt. You need to rest.”

Wordlessly, Evius cloaks himself in a veil of invisibility, shaking off Ash's hand in the process.

Ash frowns. “ . . . I know you’re there, Evvy. Just let me help you.” He searches for the faint blue outline he was taught to identify, quickly spotting the slender blur a few paces away. “Please.”

Without waiting for a response, he scoops up the outline of Evius, feeling the invisible weight falling into his arms. He hears a faint “ow” from his chest, and his heart aches with guilt.

"What happens now?" Evius murmurs, as if only to himself.

Ash laughs in spite of his frustration, surprised that Evius said anything at all.

“Well, I’m gonna take you to your room, and make sure you rest and heal.” He ponders for a second, then continues, “I think it's also time we talked about a few things . . . ”

Where there had appeared to be nothing in Ash's arms, there was now a disheveled and bruised Evius. He lets his head relax into Ash's chest, Ash's pounding heartbeat thudding in his ear. His cheeks dimple into a resigned smile.

"Yeah, I think so too."

#tw blood #the caged tiger #ash and evius #writeblr #writing #is this whump?#hurt/comfort #maybe?#dnd fanfiction #this one is taken from a text rp with evius' player #and heavily adapted/edited #so there might be some weirdness #rublewriting

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