#also the gap between what I wanna do and my actual skill level is gonna humiliate me

[i-eat-mold]

Y’all are not ready for the next thing I’m cooking up

[alangdorf]

Hi! This is a follow-up post to my kingdom hearts fic Ten Minutes Too Late that I’ve been meaning to make for several years at this point. Under the cut will be some rambling about why I stopped writing it (tl;dr: ADHD, predictably) and then I’ll explain what my future plans for the fic & its universe were and post what stuff I did have written up. I’m totally fine with it if anyone happens to want to use my ideas for their own work btw, I probably won’t be getting around to finishing it anytime soon if ever.

Oh also! BBS Tangled AU writeup is here; I won’t bother with the few snippets of writing I did cause they were all very short false starts.

(Note: I will probably not be making a similar post for my old Undertale au. It’s been too long for me to remember much and I don’t wanna go find my notes, also it’s just not that interesting. The main secret [the Frisk in the comic was from Jerky’s timeline] was guessed immediately anyways.)

The Writing Issue

Guh. So I’ve always been really bad at the act of writing. Results are usually decent, but trying to get myself to write anything that my brain isn’t just coming up with on its own is like pulling teeth. (Honestly it should’ve been a major indicator of my ADHD growing up, but I was the guinea pig oldest child and didn’t get diagnosed ‘til I got to college and the additional time management responsibilities - and writing assignments - pushed things into unmanageable territory.) I’m also an incorrigible perfectionist and rarely manage to force myself to push out first draft material I’m not happy with. Unfortunately this also applies to writing I do for fun, so I have to really really really be inspired to be able to write and even then it’s still often a struggle.

Since I have very little practice with writing, I also just have a large gap between my skill level and my taste, and overall I’m very conscious of issues in my past writing - jokes that are lame because I couldn’t think of anything funny, inconsistent characterizations, over-reliance on plot contrivances (I’m largely resistant to being bothered by contrivances but like it’s a LOT), too much angst and not enough other stuff to balance it out because the angst is all I can focus on, trying to tackle things I don’t have enough personal experience and/or knowledge of and/or tact to handle in a way I find satisfactory, etcetera. I always like my stuff quite a lot when I’m actually rereading it, but the bad bits are what stick in my mind, so it’s hard to even think about my writing without feeling really embarrassed (and meowing). Which makes it really hard to want to focus on writing more of TMTL. Though I also just haven’t been hyperfixating on KH in several years. Maybe I’ll finish my four blaseball wips someday but the odds aren’t looking good…

TMTL Plans

Anyway, hmm, where to start… well, chapter 16 was gonna be a flashback to what happened to Ven & Vani at the start of KH1, namely that they went to the play island while Ansem was there, Ven lost his heart in a Neoshadow attack, and then Vani’s coerced into being a henchman again since Ven’s basically a hostage. He does not have a fun time with that, but he does train Riku (and yes he was the mystery person they saw at Hollow Bastion). I wrote out that chapter but I was a little dissatisfied with it. I guess at the end of this I’ll post all my snippets.

I had a whole plan for all three kids’ paths through KH1 but it was probably wayyy too overambitious to try and write the whole thing given I was never that interested in the kids or in the Disney worlds. To skip to the important bits at the end (also I don’t entirely understand my notes for the rest), Kairi gets to Hollow Bastion before Sora does and Vani ends up removing her heart (it goes to Sora) in a last-ditch effort to stop Ansem’s plan and also keep her safe-ish; in retaliation Ansem sends him to the Realm of Darkness. To be honest this was mostly just to set up Naminé’s continued existence and to get Aqua out of the RoD early.

The end of KH1 goes about as normal except Kairi tags along (also Ven wakes up but doesn’t tag along). Aqua finds Vanitas and Vanitas finds Riku and Vani portals them all out cause I guess he can do that. Then things get a little interesting: since Ven was not involved in the events of Birth by Sleep, Aqua never turned the Land of Departure into Castle Oblivion, so the events of Chain of Memories just kinda don’t happen. Naminé still pops up in the LoD, but Aqua has just returned home and takes her in. For a while. The org comes for her eventually.

The replicas also happen, but under slightly different circumstances; the org occupies part of Hollow Bastion in secret before the Restoration Committee really gets everything under control and they use several stored heart scans: Riku’s (from during kh1) to make Repliku, and, just to see what would happen, they mashed up “Princess of Heart” Kairi’s (from pre-fall of Radiant Garden) and “What I am is darkness” Vanitas’ (from during kh1) to make Xion. (That’s why I draw her with pink eyes in this au, it’s purple + red. Also the average of 4 and 26 is 15, it’s perfect) I dunno what effect them being pure light + pure darkness would have, if any. They’d probably just be a mostly regular keyblade wielder but that’s still valuable to the org.

And with Chain of Memories not happening (also Roxas still exists like normal), Axel gets four kids! I didn’t have any other plans for kh2 and beyond. Eventually Xion gets adopted into Kairi & Vanitas’ family, Roxas into Sora & Ven’s, and Namine is Aqua’s daughter and/or little sister. Also Vanqua happens but I’m not posting most of the stuff I had written for that; it was weird cause I’m not good at writing romance.

I was also very interested in writing interstitials for chapter 3, more about Vanitas and Kairi’s time in Radiant Garden and involving more of the people living there (oh man I remember I had this whole big idea about Cloud and Sephiroth being a really weird heart experiment done by apprentice Nort half-remembering the whole Ven & Vani thing), and also slice of life stuff about everyone living on Destiny islands in the long timeskip between chapter 7(?) and the start of kh1. I’ll put that list of ideas in the snippets section.

The Leftovers

The Chart(TM)

Interstitial ideas list

Ienzo sometimes hangs out with Kairi because Kids; Vanitas does NOT trust him bcuz he is an apprentice and usually brings the wrath of Even with him

Yes Braig is blackmailing Vanitas for babysitting purposes, but he’s also actively protecting him from apprentice Nort?????

Untitled Unversed Game is still so good [Note: this was basically just Unversed wreaking minor havoc in town while Vani’s sick]

All the radiant garden peeps may have had more important stuff going on at the time but they do remember the local cryptid Untitled Goose Game-ing it up for nearly a year and while they may never have seen his face or talked to him, they recognize the Unversed and they’re just like???? The cryptid’s back? And he was just a weird homeless kid the whole time? And Cid’s like yeah duh, I’ve been telling you kids that for the past decade

ALSO I only just had this idea but considering Vanitas got badly enough injured by Aqua as to be put fairly solidly out of commission for a few months, he probably didn’t manage to get entirely off the street before passing out for a while; I dunno much about ffvii Cid, but  I do get the vibe that he’d be the type to pick up strays and then gripe about it constantly while picking up some more, so? You know where I’m going with this. Although this is Vanitas fresh offa bbs and four years with Xehanort prior so he does not trust anyone further than he can throw them. Also he probably doesn’t know that Xehanort got amnesia yet, so there’s that too.

Kairi keyblade training??

Oh yeah by the way Kairi and Vanitas? You have three older sisters now who are absolutely thrilled to have surprise little siblings

If he fits he sits; iF HE FITS HE SITS

Kairi settles in nicely (by repressing her trauma) but hoo boy VANITAS is gonna be INTERESTING

DON’T FORGET THE UNVERSED BTW

Also Ven settling in with Hikari and Sora and becoming a real boy

Vanitas angst but that’s a given

Riku?? Riku???????

Ok did Vanitas actually talk through his trauma during therapy or did he just get assistance wrt dealing with trauma & emotions? Either way I think said therapist is extremely in over their head

Chapter 16 + most of the rest of what I had started for future chapters in that same document

[Not edited but a bit at the end was redacted cause I really didn’t like it. Pretty much all Vanitas angst. Very long but there’s pictures at the end. Asterisks are italics cause I use discord too much; empty brackets means there should be other stuff there]

Vanitas let his brother row the boat, since this excursion had been his dumb idea in the first place and Vanitas had never been particularly confident in his nautical navigation skills. He’d gotten off late from work, and Ventus had worked even later, so the sun was already setting. But they were adults. They could handle a little darkness.

There was a bundle of jitters crawling around in the pit of his stomach, but it wasn’t his own emotion he was feeling. He stared pointedly at Ventus, who was almost a little too focused on rowing. “You’re nervous.” It wasn’t a question.

“Hm?” Ventus looked up in surprise. “Um, maybe.”

Vanitas sighed. “You’re the one who asked me to come, idiot. Why are *you* nervous?”

He shrugged. “I dunno, it’s just... we haven’t hung out in a while.”

“Well, I’m flattered you hate me that much.”

“No!” He pouted at Vanitas indignantly. “You didn’t let me finish! I was thinking we should do something together, so that’s why I suggested this. I’m just...” He frowned. “Having second thoughts. I don’t know why, but I really feel like we should go home.”

“Maybe you should’ve thought of that *before* we reached the play island,” Vanitas said dryly, pointing out the dock only five feet away.

“Oh...” Ventus sighed and hopped out. “Never mind, then.”

Vanitas waited until Ventus dragged the boat into the sand to disembark. There was no way he was getting these shoes wet. He untied the flannel from around his waist and put it on, still unbuttoned for now, over his binder. It was going to be an unseasonably chilly night.

He followed Ventus as he headed towards the other side of the island, chatting as he went. “I can’t believe it’s been so long since we first came to the islands, Vanitas! It feels like it’s only been a few days since you and Kairi showed up.” He linked his hands behind his head as he walked, his eyes widening. “Oh, man, Kairi’s *old* now... Those kids grow up so fast...”

Vanitas rolled his eyes. “*We’re* pushing *thirty*, Ventus.”

“Hey, your thirties are the best years of your life!”

“Not when you’re a hardware store manager and the town librarian. Did Hikari tell you that one?”

“... How’d you guess?”

“Because she’s forty and misses being younger.”

“Aww, no she doesn’t. Mom just wishes we could all be home more often.”

“She sure sees you often enough at work.”

Ventus stopped and shook his head. “Just because it’s a small hospital doesn’t mean we see each other all the time, you know. But we both like working there, so it’s all good.” He turned around and smirked at Vanitas. “Besides, you love your jobs, don’t try to lie to me. Taiyo’s practically your dad, and you’d *live* at the library if you could.”

Vanitas struggled to keep a genuine smile off his face. “Yeah, whatever.”

They emerged on the other beach just as the sun reached the horizon, throwing yellow light across the waves. Vanitas made sure to stand directly in its path, basking in the last warmth of the day. Ventus just squinted and made his way down the beach, waiting for Vanitas to follow, which he did, reluctantly. He asked something he’d been meaning to for a while. “Did you ever figure out how to summon your keyblade?”

“...I’ve never tried.” Ventus put his hands in his pockets, standing in the same place he’d found two displaced kids almost a decade ago. “I’d rather not get involved with... all that if I don’t have to. And if I never summon it, we can never fight and forge the χ - blade, right?”

Vanitas stood next to him, shivering in the chilly breeze. “I suppose so. But you know, Kairi finally managed to summon hers a few weeks ago. She could totally beat you up if she wanted to.” He felt he deserved his smug expression.

Ventus looked at him, shocked. “You taught Kairi how to summon her keyblade?”

“She’s older than we were when we first learned. I wanted her to be able to fight... just in case something happens.” He shivered again.

“You’re too pessimistic. Nothing bad’s going to happen.”

“Well, you never know. I still think you should learn.”

“And I think you should wear more clothes if you’re so cold!” Vanitas yelped as his brother poked his exposed belly button.

“Hey, you can’t hide perfection!”

“Ugh, you’ve been working out again, haven’t you?”

He struck a bit of a pose, showing off his abs. “You know it.” They both giggled uncontrollably at the ridiculousness of it all.

Ventus composed himself and crouched down. “I’m still in pretty good shape. I’ll race you to the secret place!”

Vanitas got ready as well. “Oh, you’re on!”

After counting down together, they took off and sprinted down the beach, Vanitas already trailing behind. There was no way he could win against Ventus without teleporting, so he just let the wind whip across his face and through his hair as he ran, not bothering to push himself. He lost sight of Ventus as he entered the passage to the other side of the island and slowed to a walk.

As Vanitas reached the other beach, he looked around for Ventus, but didn’t see him anywhere. He must have already made it to the secret place. He laughed at the fact that Ventus hadn’t even noticed he was no longer being followed and took a step forward.

His whole body was screaming. He went limp and collapsed, his legs folding underneath him and fingers scrambling desperately for purchase in the sand. His head felt like it was splitting open, fear freezing in his veins. His senses failed, and all he could feel was his heartbeat in his ears and hysterical breaths ripping through his chest. What was happening to him?

Suddenly, it all stopped. He clambered to his feet, breathing hard, as he immediately understood. Ventus. He’d been feeling Ventus. Vanitas had experienced his upset emotions before, but nothing like this. This was sheer and all-consuming terror. Something was extremely wrong.

He summoned his keyblade and bolted for the secret place without a second thought, trailing Unversed behind him. He hadn’t lost control over his Unversed in years, but he had more important things to worry about.

His boots made a regular thumping sound on the packed dirt floor of the passageway, echoing his rapid heartbeat. It was dark, but he’d never had problems seeing without light. One of the few perks of his situation. He chuckled breathlessly at the thought, trying unsuccessfully to suppress his building panic.

He skidded into the secret place, eyes immediately locking on to the body on the floor as his shattered heart leapt into his throat. His brother’s eyes were half open, and he lay in a pool of his own blood, motionless. Vanitas *screamed*.

“*Ventus!*”

“*He’s not dead, you know.*” Vanitas looked away in alarm, searching for the source of the deep voice. It was a hooded figure turned away from him and towards the wooden door at the far side of the room. Vanitas raised his keyblade with trembling hands and growled.

“What did you do to him?”

The figure just laughed and raised a covered arm. Shadows appeared all around Vanitas and peeled themselves away from the ground, growing in size until they towered over him. Long, spindly arms. Crooked and trailing antennae. Unblinking eyes glowing a sickly yellow in the darkness.

Neoshadows.

He froze in terror, holding his keyblade in a defensive position, but the Heartless ignored him and went after the Unversed already filling the room, ripping them apart, tearing them limb from limb and wringing their necks, slowly, purposefully. Their deaths came back to Vanitas in a torrent of searing agony, bringing him to his knees, gasping for air, without so much as a touch. 

He dropped his keyblade and it shattered. Seeing him unarmed, the Neoshadows descended on him, wrenching his arms behind him, long, sharp fingers curling around his neck and slicing his skin. Claws ripping into him everywhere, twisting in his wounds and holding him down as his blood dripped to the floor. He tried not to scream again, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of knowing he was suffering, but a distressed sob escaped his throat anyways.

This was torture. The Neoshadows were avoiding serious injuries, instead inflicting pain like he hadn’t felt in years. There was no way this was natural Heartless behavior. They were being controlled by the hooded figure. Vanitas stared at it, utterly petrified. He desperately wanted to fight back, but his body wasn’t responding. He couldn’t even struggle against the Neoshadows’ unrelenting grip. His pathetic fear of them had come back in full force, and he was willing to bet Ventus had the same reaction earlier.

A chill ran down his spine as he thought about it carefully. There was only one person who would know about *that* incident.

“... X-xehanort?”

The figure turned around, but Vanitas couldn’t see into its hood. “*My name is Ansem, but I was once called Xehanort.*”  It chuckled, low and malicious. “*It has been such a long time, my dear apprentice.*”

This couldn’t be happening. There was no way this was real. He was safe here, he... he’d *been* safe, he’d been *free*. He’d had a normal life, a family; he’d been... happy. But it was all slipping through his fingers as he watched in misery.

“*Look at you, Vanitas. All grown up and mature...*” One of the Neoshadows ran its hand down his face, leaving a slit through his lip with its trailing claws as it caressed him. It made him feel sick. “*The years have been kind to you without me, have they not?*”

He tried not to hyperventilate. “How did you f-find me?”

“*It is but a simple matter to find one with the mark of the Recusant’s Sigil on their heart.*”

“Th-the recusant’s...?”

Oh.

*Oh no.*

Vanitas had a myriad of scars littered across his skin, both from battle and from cruel discipline, but by far the deepest were a pair of intersecting gashes that spanned the entirety of his back. They had been carefully and painfully carved into his flesh time and time again, and even after a decade they hadn’t faded. He had thought they’d been compelled by thoughtless sadism, but he realized now that they formed a recusant’s sigil, the intersection of which lay directly over his heart.

Xehanort never did anything thoughtlessly. He’d been branding Vanitas, marking him as his... *property*, making certain he’d never be able to slip from his clutches.

Vanitas’ heart sank. The past ten years had been for nothing.

He’d never escaped at all.

The hooded figure drew closer, observing him. Its cold voice permeated the air between them, twisting its way into his ears until he could hear nothing else. “*A being of pure darkness... how utterly fascinating. Surely, leaving you behind was one of the worst mistakes I ever made.*” He felt the Neoshadows tighten their grip on him possessively, and his breath hitched in his throat. ”*But it’s a mistake I intend to correct. It’s finally time to return to my side, Vanitas. Imagine all the great things we could accomplish together.*” 

“N-no.”

The figure came to a halt. “*... What was that?*”

Vanitas bared his teeth, ignoring the sting of his split lip and glaring up into the dark hood. “I said *no*!”

The figure waved its arm and the Neoshadows roughly forced his head down until he was bowing, staring at a growing puddle of his own blood. Their claws sunk even deeper into his neck. He had to struggle to stay conscious through the pain and panic, trying to breathe but failing miserably.

The voice was absolutely venomous. “*You misunderstand the situation. I wasn’t giving you a choice, boy.*”

Vanitas felt bitter tears collect in the corners of his eyes. He’d thought he was better than this. He’d thought he had gotten stronger, able to put his past behind him, and yet here he was, practically a child again, forced to his knees in anguish in front of Xehanort and completely helpless. Nothing had changed. He couldn’t protect Ventus, who was still unconscious and bleeding on the floor next to him. He couldn’t even protect himself. There was nothing he could do anymore. Nothing at all.

Tears dropped to the floor, mingling with his blood, swirling in sickening patterns as he watched, his vision blurring. He squeezed his eyes shut, choking out a desperate plea. “P-please... just... d-don’t hurt Ventus anymore... I-I’ll... I’ll do whatever you want.”

“*Excellent. I’m looking forward to it. Your first task is to bring Ventus to the castle in Hollow Bastion and wait for me there. You’ll be supervised by the Neoshadows for now.*” He could hear the cruel smile in the voice as it whispered in his ear, the rest of the world melting away around him. “*Well? What do you say, Vanitas?*”

He felt numb.

“... Yes, Master.”

[]

Riku threw Soul Eater down in frustration. They clenched their hands into fists. “Fight *back!*”

Their knuckles impacted solidly on Vanitas’ cheek, but he just slackened and slid to the floor, hair falling around his face. He made no move to get up. “Riku...”

Riku felt tears pricking at the corners of their eyes and slammed them shut as they kicked Vanitas in the side. “I said fight back, you *idiot*!”

His voice was quiet and strained. “I don’t want to hurt you, Riku.”

“*Then why’d you hurt Kairi?!*” Riku tried to shout, but their voice cracked halfway through.

“I - I didn’t mean...” He swallowed hard and with some difficulty, looking at Riku imploringly. “They already have you and Ventus... I... I couldn’t let them have Kairi, too.”

Riku choked out a laugh. “Nobody ‘has’ me! I’m here because I want to be!”

Vanitas only seemed more distressed. “You’re being manipulated, Riku, we all are! The Master’s grooming you to be his new vessel!”

“*I DON’T CARE!*”

Vanitas was taken aback by the outburst, but Riku just kept yelling.

“I *don’t* care, I don’t!” They were really crying now, tears angrily streaming down their face. “I want to be *strong!* Strong enough to protect myself, and strong enough to protect Ventus and Sora and Kairi! Strong like *you*, Vanitas!”

Vanitas lowered his head. “I... I was never strong.”

“You’re right,” Riku croaked. “You’re *weak*, I see that now. I’m weak too, aren’t I?” They sank to their knees, laughing and weeping bitterly. “Sora and Kairi don’t need me anymore. And I’m not even worthy of my own keyblade. The darkness is all I have left. I’m just like you!”

[]

“They’re both important to me.”

“Remarkable, then, that you’ve managed to lose both of them through your foolish actions.”

Vanitas gave Ansem a hard glare. “I swear, I won’t let you or any of your dumb Heartless lay another finger on Ventus. But Kairi...” He looked at her lifeless body, still crumpled on the floor. His stomach turned. “She’s better off without me, anyways.”

Ansem coolly considered him for a moment, thinking. “Well, Vanitas, you may be a fascinating creature, but frankly, I’ve already got all the data I need. And if you’re refusing to follow orders...” He shook his head in mock disappointment. “Then it seems you’ve outlived your usefulness. However...” He smirked. “I do have an idea for one last test.”

Vanitas scoffed, looking away. “I won’t do it.”

Ansem stepped closer, crushing a Thornbite under his boot and chuckling as he saw Vanitas flinch. There was clear amusement in his voice when he spoke. “Don’t worry, it’s a very simple observational study. It doesn’t even require your active participation.”

He retrieved Soul Eater, pressing the tip against Vanitas’ neck, just carefully enough to avoid drawing blood. Vanitas involuntarily went limp as the sword tilted his head upwards, the sharp blade threatening to dig into the exposed flesh below his chin while his dull yellow eyes met a pair of cold teal ones.

Looking at the unfamiliar expression on that familiar face, he realized he could never fight back, not against Riku’s body. Not against this child who was still precious to him. He was powerless. Just as he had always been.

A foreign, vicious grin spread across Riku’s - Ansem’s - face. “Let’s see how much it takes to *break you.*”

[]

“But you’re a creature of pure darkness. A monster.” She leveled her keyblade at him. “This is where you belong.”

He laughed, but to Aqua’s surprise, it didn’t sound at all the way she remembered it. When they had fought, his laugh had been a taunting sound, hysterical and malicious.

The way he sounded now was... heartbroken.

Instead of raising his keyblade, he dropped it, falling to his knees and slumping over, clutching at his chest. “You’re right, Aqua... Th-this *is* where I belong...”

Aqua let her keyblade lower slightly, confused. She hadn’t been expecting him to agree with her, much less with so much sadness in his voice. “What?”

He laughed again, shuddering violently, then without warning his head drooped and he fell sideways. He hit the sand and went completely still, his breathing slowing.

What in the name of Kingdom Hearts was going on? *Vanitas*, of all people, shows up in the Realm of Darkness, has the gall to act surprised to see *her*, then passes out? She was tempted to just leave him there and go on her merry way, but it had been so long since she’d seen another person (although applying the term ‘person’ to Vanitas was questionable) that she decided to have a look.

She carefully approached, wary that he might be faking it. That certainly seemed like something he would do, pretend to be unconscious until Aqua got close enough for him to execute a surprise attack. But there continued to be no indication that he was awake. She even had to kill a few Unversed that were poking around his body.

Aqua used the toe of her shoe to flip him onto his back. To her shock, the action left behind a horrifyingly large bloodstain in the sand. She took a sharp breath as she knelt down beside him, checking him for wounds as best she could through his thick bodysuit. From up close, the coppery stench of blood was nearly overwhelming.

He was bleeding profusely from a gash on his neck, running vertically from his chin all the way down to the middle of his chest. Aqua’s heart skipped a beat as she found a series of almost methodical cuts across his torso and arms. These weren’t made by the indiscriminately attacking Heartless. He’d been deliberately hurt by somebody, and badly. It was a wonder he was even still alive.

She cast a Curaga without a second thought. He may have been an evil brat, but she wasn’t about to leave him to die.

His breathing evened out and Aqua felt herself relax slightly. She settled back on her heels, wiping the blood off her hands. For a moment, she just sat there, contemplating her sleeping enemy. Although she had said he belonged here, in truth, she had no idea how he’d ended up in the Realm of Darkness, let alone with so many injuries. What had happened since the last time she defeated him?

Vanitas continued to lay quietly inert while Aqua’s curiosity grew. She cautiously placed a hand on his helmet, remembering when she had fought him in... what was the name of that city, again? She had nearly removed his mask before he’d yelled at her and run away. But if he was really out this time...

Taking a deep breath, she gingerly pulled the helmet off, exposing a cascade of messy black hair and, beyond that... a face, wet with tears and blood and marred by bruises and old scars. Aqua’s shoulders fell in surprise. He looked just like those boys she had met here not so long ago: Sora and Ventus, if she remembered their names correctly. Perhaps Vanitas had been telling the truth about being Ventus’ brother. She wondered if they’d ever found each other, and, if they had, whether Ventus had made it out of the encounter alive.

Aqua found herself brushing hair from Vanitas’ forehead in spite of her distaste for him. Aside from too-sharp teeth and a pair of pointy ears sticking out from his tangled hair, he could nearly pass for human. She sighed, her eyebrows furrowing. Had he really just been a child this whole time? A child who did horrible things, but.....

Well, he certainly wasn’t a child anymore. He was still pretty short, but he was unmistakably older than he used to be, probably even older than herself. And if his strange behavior was any indication... *maybe* he’d changed. It seemed unlikely, though, especially if he was still running around as Xehanort’s apprentice.

What had happened to Xehanort? To Terra? Aqua was desperate to find out, and Vanitas could be her only chance. If she could manage to wake him up without him trying to kill her, that is. She looked around for something to restrain him with, but, finding not much more than sand and coconuts, she resorted to using her sash to fasten his hands together behind him. It would most likely end up being useless, but it was better than nothing.

A barrage of freezing water against the bare skin of his face. Hands roughly pulling him upright as he coughed, attempting to clear his lungs. He tried to get away, protect himself, *something,* but he couldn’t move his arms and he panicked. His coughing soon turned to gagging, black bile forcing itself through his throat before he could even think.

The hands quickly drew back while a voice he didn’t recognize cursed loudly. The muck splattered on the ground, writhing in agony as beady red eyes formed within it. A keyblade was on it in an instant, sending a jolt of pain through his chest as the fledgling Unversed was destroyed. “*Light,* Vanitas, what is *wrong* with you?” He couldn’t answer, shaking and gasping as he struggled to calm down and remember what was going on.

The hand reached for him again, and though he tried to flinch away, it caught his shoulder and squeezed firmly. “Hey, relax. I’m not gonna hurt you unless you attack me.” It definitely wasn’t the Master, then.

“H-hurts when the... Unversed are k-killed, though...” The other voice said some more words he wouldn’t dare repeat in front of the kids.

Oh. The kids...

Water dripped down his face as his vision cleared, washing blood and black sludge away with it. He could tell that his hands were tied behind his back, although considering his history with the person he’d run into, who was now sitting in front of him looking perturbed, that seemed fair. “Aqua?”

“Yeah? What?” She narrowed her eyes as though he’d said her name as a challenge.

Vanitas could no longer feel the injuries left by Ansem in his last assault. “Did... did you heal me?”

She sighed, sweeping wet hair out of his face as he shivered. “Don’t take it personally. It’s so lonely down here that I didn’t feel like letting you die, that’s all.”

[]

“You mean...?”

Say it. Get it out in the open. It hurt less that way.

“... Yeah. Xehanort abused me.”

She looked horrified. “For *years?*”

He stared down at his shoes. “Yep...”

Aqua’s face cycled through several shades of upset before settling on disdain. “And is that supposed to make me feel sorry for you?” It was pretty obvious she *was* pitying him, but Vanitas didn’t call her out on it.

“I’m well aware it doesn’t excuse what I did to you.” He locked eyes with her earnestly. “I don’t know if you’ll care, but I’m sorry. *Really.* I was hurt and mislead, but that doesn’t make it right.” He looked down again, curling in on himself. “I can understand if you won’t forgive me.”

After a minute of awkward silence, she huffed and turned away. “Well, you’ve certainly become more mature. I wasn’t expecting to ever get an apology out of you. I... appreciate it, I guess.”

“... You’re welcome?”

They sat quietly for a few moments while Aqua contemplated something. Eventually, she faced him again in concern. “What I still don’t get, though, is what reason you’d have to go back to Xehanort *now.* You seem like you’ve become a semi-decent person, so I doubt you’re in it for the apocalyptic aspect, and he treats you terribly and nearly *killed* you when given the chance, so... why?”

He broke eye contact. “I... didn’t have a choice. He took Ventus, and I...” He took a shaky breath. “I *can’t get away* from him, Aqua. He’s constantly tracking me. He knew where I was this whole time, and he just... let me *think* I was free until he wanted his... f-favorite toy back...”

He could almost feel the weight of the sigil on his back curling around him like a vise.

Aqua’s hard expression finally broke. “Vanitas...” She took a deep breath as well. “For what it’s worth, I... I’m sorry, too. For being rude and calling you a... monster.”

He scoffed. “It’s not like it was unwarranted.”

She shook her head. “Maybe not, but I’m sure it didn’t help. I let my anger get the best of me and I didn’t see you were hurting. So... I’m sorry.”

He felt very small then. “... It’s fine.”

Ch 16 pics I never posted cause spoilers

A bit embarrassing though jfhsghd. I generally don’t post my gratuitously angsty/edgy stuff

Xion intro scene

[Notated for edits which I never made]

She chewed her lip nervously, twisting her hands in the hem of her dress. The lower levels of the castle always put her on edge. People in white coats stared at her expectantly as they all pretended not to hear the scary noises coming from deeper in. The silver-haired man who called himself Ansem but was *not* Ansem asked her about her new friend while the one-eyed guard smirked behind him. She didn’t tell the silver-haired man anything. He sighed.

//add

She sat down in the big chair and worried. The man who was not Ansem hadn’t asked to see her in a while, not since soon after the other Ansem had left and the silver-haired man had taken his name. The new Ansem wasn’t as nice as the old one. He’d sent the one-eyed guard to her house very early this morning, and she hadn’t even gotten a chance to tell her friend that she’d be busy today. He’d be upset. He didn’t like being alone. He was -

He was completely alone. He’d been used to being alone, a long time ago. But it felt so *different* this time. This time, he had known what it was like, to be happy, to actually be loved and wanted. And the stark absence of that almost hurt more than anything else.

Almost.

/*The dark claws ripped him apart slowly, almost reverently,*/ as if watching him suffer in their grip was the most fascinating thing in all the worlds. Maybe it was, to Ansem. The creature may have been calling itself his Master, but it seemed more inclined to research rather than actually teach, and the constant threat to the lives of the others caught in its clutches (and his own *pathetic* cowardice) left him a perfectly cooperative subject for its study. Though he couldn’t imagine what this sort of sadistic exercise was actually supposed to achieve, other than leaving him broken and empty.

Then again, maybe that *was* the point. What /*new and interesting thing*/ would Ansem find when it examined his heart? A battered shell, the already shattered remnants of another torn out and ground to dust until all that was left was a hollow, dark void? It wouldn’t surprise him, honestly. It already felt that way.

A sudden streak of agony shot through him as the claws sunk deeper, and he desperately tried not to scream, choking down his sobs as silently as he could. He’d promised himself that he’d be quiet, because otherwise *Riku* would hear, and then -

Who was Riku? She didn’t know a Riku.

She fidgeted, a bit confused. She could tell she was still laying in the chair, but it felt far smaller than it had previously. Or maybe... *she* had somehow grown much *bigger!* She giggled at the realization. If she showed up to the courtyard like this, she’d nearly be as tall as her friend -

He was a little too small. He almost laughed bitterly at that through the pain. He’d already been unfairly short; now he might even be able to properly share clothes with his closet-raiding (spunky, sassy, precious, perfect, *missing, in danger, better off without him*) sister -

*Vanitas!*

*Kairi...*

She beamed with happiness.

He wept in anguish.

His tears ran down her grinning face as he opened her eyes, and nothing had changed. She was still in that horrible room, in that horrible chair, with the silver-haired man that was and was not Ansem staring at him. She brought a hand up to his cheek, surprised to find it dry, with only the ghost of a smile and a faint memory of sorrow left.

He looked down at her unfamiliar hand, catching a glimpse of her hair out of the corner of his eye, shorter than his but a different color than hers. It... it wasn’t right. None of it was right. He trembled, carefully studying the rest of her. Everything was just a little bit wrong. She wasn’t quite him, but he wasn’t quite her, either. She could feel the panic and confusion bubbling up in his chest.

Who was she?

Who was he?

...Who were *they?*

//add

The awful man who was and was not Ansem smiled coldly at them, and gave them their name.

*...Xion.*

The one single Destiny Islands slice-of-life-ish drabble I started one time

Vanitas huffed into the pillow in his arms and pressed further into the corner where his bed met the wall, as he often did. [] He felt the pressure of several unmanifested Unversed threatening to tear themselves free, the incessant prickling of one escaped Thornbite’s vines curling around his ankle - or wait, maybe his foot was just falling asleep from putting pressure on it weird - and the unmistakable beginnings of a tension headache. Fantastic.

He opened one eye at the sound of his door creaking open (he did *not* tense up, he *didn’t*; he’d have to be an idiot to think there was any need to) and caught sight of a sliver of dim light from the hallway growing briefly and then shrinking back to nothing with a careful click of the door handle. He barely had enough time to process what that had been before there was a gentle tug at the one corner of his sheets that was still hanging off the far side of the bed, a wet sniffle, and a whisper.

“Vanitas?”

“What.” He replied flatly, trying not to be *too* annoyed that Kairi had showed up to interrupt his brooding.

“H-had a bad dream...” Kairi paused to take an unsteady breath, rubbing at her eyes with a blanket she’d dragged there with her. “C-can I..?”

He sighed and turned to face the wall. “Whatever. Not like I’m using that side of the bed anyways.”

Kairi stuttered out her thanks. Then with some effort, she hoisted herself up and onto the bed, pulling her blanket up after her, and situated herself in the empty space. Vanitas laid still, listening to her quiet sniveling as she tried to settle down and also blow her nose.

After a few ineffective minutes of this, he grumbled and pushed his irritation away as a small Flood. (Just to get rid of it. Obviously. Might even lessen his headache, if he got lucky for once.) It zipped straight to Kairi, nosing at her face and making her giggle just the tiniest bit. It flopped down beside her as she scratched the back of its neck and pet it gently, and it started warbling contentedly in a way that *aaaalmost* sounded like purring. Tch. Smug little bastard.

Vanitas was... still not quite used to receiving positive feedback through the link he shared with his Unversed, and the phantom sensation brushing up and down his own spine was bizarre, to say the least. It also felt *really* nice though, unfortunately, and he just barely managed to catch himself before the tension would’ve dropped from his shoulders entirely. Kairi hummed mildly behind him and tickled the underside of the Flood’s jaw, making him scowl even harder into his pillow. He heard a few quiet chuckles find their way through the sniffles. Ok yeah, she knew *exactly* what she was doing.

“So, any particular reason you decided to bother *me* instead of your parents?”

Kairi stilled at that, wrapping her arms around the Flood like it was a stuffed animal. “My dream... it was, um. Of home.” Vanitas peeked back towards her apprehensively, catching sight of her quivering lip and still-runny nose. “Of when we left.”

“Do you... remember it?“

Kairi shook her head. “I forgot after I woke up. It was... s-scary, though...” She squeezed the Flood a little tighter. “You got hurt real bad then, didn’t you?”

He hummed noncommittally in response.

“My grandma, the other kids, everyone...” Fresh tears welled up in her eyes. “Do you think anyone else made it out, or are they all... d-did they...?”

Vanitas looked away. “...I don’t know.” He very nearly caught the inside of his cheek between his teeth. He’d been utterly useless during the attack on Radiant Garden. *Worse* than useless; he’d barely escaped with his own life. And in the end, he hadn’t even really saved Kairi, had he? “...S-sorry...”

[]

“And what have I done to deserve it?”

[]

“Would *anything* be different if I’d just-“

*If I’d just died that day at the graveyard like I was* meant *to?*

“...I-if I’d never made it to the city?”

Interstitial of Sora talking to the folks at Traverse Town about Vani

“Why, if it ain’t Squall” - Leon grimaced but didn’t correct him - “an’ Yuffie. Heard you two beat up some kid earlier?” Cid raised an eyebrow.

Yuffie placed a hand over her heart in mock supplication. “For once, I am innocent.” Then she grinned as she elbowed Leon in the side. “This one was all Leon.”

“Sora here claims to know the...” Leon’s brow furrowed as he looked away. “Uh...”

“The cryptid!” Yuffie helpfully supplied.

This did not seem to help Leon. “...Right, that thing.”

Cid almost looked surprised for a moment, but quickly turned dour, squinting at Sora, who was casually standing with his hands behind his head, entirely lost as to what they were talking about. “Well that’d be one heckuva coincidence. Ya sure about that, kid?”

“Uh. Maybe?” Sora wasn’t sure where this was going, but Leon was looking between him and Cid expectantly, so he continued. “What do they look like?”

Cid chewed thoughtfully on his toothpick. “Black hair, yellow eyes, would be... oh, maybe ‘bout Squall’s age nowadays? An’ always had those weird li’l buggers with the red eyes - not Heartless, but kinda similar.”

“Oh!” Sora started in recognition. “Looked kinda like me?”

“Yeah, picked ‘em up off the street ‘bout ten years back. Real piece a’ work, that one. Darn near took my head off trynna get away after they finally woke up.”

[]

“Got the feelin’ he was expectin’ every hand to hurt instead a’ help. An’ looked to me like he learned that from experience, if y’know what I mean. Not too uncommon for kids ya find on the street, but he was worse off than most I seen.

Welp, that’s about it! Asks are always open but I can’t guarantee I’ll answer them. I also usually don’t respond to comments anymore just cause my fics are so old and hard to think about. Thanks for understanding!

[luveline]

hi, jade, first time talking to you.

i still can't believe you got me reading about a child and i'm actually liking it 🗣️🗣️🗣️ lmao, nothing against babies, i just don't particularly like to read stuff about them (meaning i avoid books centered around them), but here we are.

i really like your writing, i guess it might be because (besides being good) you seem to have fun with it, and as someone who truly loves the idea of writing but has a hard time finishing their work, i must ask: how do you do it?

like, honestly. i get the motivation that comes from simply wanting to do something and then doing it. but do you plot or just write at random? do you write shitty first drafts and then go around rewriting? do you also feel like you're a phony sometimes or you always feel like you know what you're doing? idk, i'm a little stuck rn and i guess i just wanna hear read something that helps me finish something i decide to write.

sorry for bombarding you with this 🫠

hi baby

I do have fun! It's all embarrassing guilty wish fulfilment disguised as proper writing I promise you. And please don't be sorry, I'm really okay to answer I don't mind one bit.

Do I plot? Not usually! For most of my bigger fits, it usually comes from my desire to write a scene that I've thought of and making it into something with like a theme or a mood. For example with Day of the Dead, I knew I wanted to write the first scene where reader is sitting on Eddie's front porch, and I knew I wanted to write the scene at the end where they kiss in Steve's car. So that was all about bridging the gap, and just telling that story where the reader was insecure and Steve literally liked her for all the things she was insecure about. I was writing it as I went along. So there is some plot there but not a lot, because I find it very hard to write dialogue if I already know how the scene is ending — the fun for me is in actually writing and planning out the scene as I go!

Do I write shitty first drafts? Kind of! If I'm really struggling with something then I use the ideas but start a new draft. Mostly though, I write (and edit as I go, after a couple of paragraphs I'll reread and fix mistakes) and then at the end of the draft I do go through and read it a couple of times to fix things I'm not happy with (like overuse of commas, bad wording, not enough description) so YES, absolutely there is rewriting!! I'm sorry I don't have a more precise method to share with you, but it's usually just like that :D

Do I feel like a phony sometimes? I'm gonna say no. I don't feel like I don't know what I'm doing as myself as a writer, but in comparison to other writers then yes? I know that doesn't make much sense. I personally don't see my writing as anything that special (which I know ur not supposed to say). Like when people compliment me I I just think like thanks so much but what are you talking about. So actually maybe I do feel like a phony? Im confident in my ability to tell stories I enjoy, but I think I feel a big disconnect between that and other people enjoying them too. It's an insane privilege to be read by others! Insane! TLDR : I wouldn't necessarily say I don't know what I'm doing, but it is surprising to me that people enjoy the finished product, because on a technical level I don't think I have the skill or ability that others do.

I really like writing (shocker) and I'm in this amazing position where I can share it with others, so though I don't always know what I'm doing I suppose it doesn't actually matter once you find 'your' audience

I hope these answers can give u some clarity but if they don't or you have something else to ask, please ask!

[ish-scribbles]

"They’re prolly going to end up marrying each other"

You and Ushiwaka have been friends ever since you were kids and you both are volleyball players as well. This year, you are a new admission in Shiratorizawa so,,,Ushijima shows you around. Much to the team’s suprise you both seem much more than friends but it's a pity that the only people oblivious to that fact is you two.

Pairing: Ushijima Wakatoshi x Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Soft Ushiwaka, lolol

"A Girl? You can't be serious!" The whole volleyball team of Shiratorizawa couldn't believe what they just heard.

"Guys, I'm not kidding. A REAL GIRL, REAL CUTE, WAS WALKING AROUND THE CAMPUS WITH USHIJIMA-SAN AND THAT'S NOT ALL. When I was in the cafeteria I SAW HER LEANING ON USHIJIMA' S SHOULDER, AND SHE SEEMED ASLEEP(?) WHILE HE CONTINUED EATING HIS FOOD LIKE IT WAS NOTHING" continues the still shocked Goshiki ''Decent in studies, one of the top volleyball aces in the nation and now a girlfriend, is there anything he can't do?!!'' He mumbles to himself.

When Goshiki told the whole team that Ushijima was roaming around the campus with a girl, it was only natural for the team to be in utter shock, considering the type of reserved guy Ushijima usually is. Even Tendou was unaware about your existence, but the way Goshiki was describing you both made it seem that you both relatively affectionate.

The sound of the gym door opening silenced the current discussion and that's when the whole team Ushijima entering with a girl on his side through the gym doors together.

"Wakatoshi, When you told me it'll only be a small walk around campus, YOU SHOULD'VE MENTIONED THAT YOU WERE GOING TO GIVE ME THE WHOLE TOUR OF YOUR GINORMOUS SCHOOL WHICH I CAN ONLY PRESUME WOULD COVER AN ENTIRE DISTRICT" You complained while facing him and walking backwards on your toes trying to put on the most intimidating face you could to show how seriously frusfrated you were.

"I once again apologize, Y/N, I should've asked you to skip your before-school training for the day. I will surely make up for it later, perhaps...a little detour to the ice-cream shop after school might help?" He offered

"It might" you pouted.

The whole team was stunned watching this scene play in front of their own very eyes. The stoic captain of Shiratorizawa, One of the top 3 aces of the country, was being told off by a girl half a foot smaller than him AND HE WAS ACTUALLY APOLOGIZING? Also not to forget...both of you were also on first name basis? Nothing made sense anymore. After a small pause Tendou was the first to break the silence.

"Oya oya, now lookie at what do we have here? Wakatoshi-kun~ You know it would be real rude of you to not introduce your friend to us, right?"

"Oh but of course, I would like all of you to meet L/N Y/N, she is actually going to join our school through sports scholarship for volleyball itself. She is also my neighbour from back home and the closest thing to a best friend I had, ever since when I was a child" Ushijima replies to which Tendou reacts with an "ouch" and an over exaggerated act of heartbreak with his hand on his chest at the fact that Ushiwaka never openly admited Tendou to be his best friend like this.

To which you laugh "You must be Tendou, right? ‘The Miracle Boy!’ if i remeber correctly" YOU smile "Wakatoshi actually talks a lot about his team and especially you! So don't worry, if we’re talking about how close we are to the spiker boy over here, we're probably at the same level, he just won’t admit it" to which Tendou replies "You know what, I think I kinda ike you, new girl. You’re gonna fit in just fine" to which you flash a cheeky smile and a thumb up what a dork.

Your conversation was cut short when Coach Washijo enters the gym and everyone in the team as well as you gave a respectable bow and an energetic ‘Good Afternoon’ and after acknowledging the greetings the old coach finally notices you.

‘‘Ah yes, you must be Y/N-chan. I've heard great things about you from Wakatoshi-kun, I'm glad that you joined the academy. I look forward to see your performance in the Girl's Team.‘‘

"I am very grateful for the opportunity, Coach" You say while giving a sincere bow.

"Although...the girls team are out for a practice match against Aoba Johsai's Girls Team, so you can practice with the boys today." Then he looks away to face the team "I have to attend a staff meeting today so the team managers will conduct today's practice and write a thorough report. So whomever is found slack off during the practice will recieve extra laps and 200 jump serves as penalty tomorrow morning. As for the match Y/N-chan and Wakatoshi-kun you both can divide the teams as per convenience, that is all for today".

They team was surprised to say the least. Coach never let anyone play against Ushiwaka unless he knew the other person could atleast withstand the power of Ushiwaka's Spike so it wouldn't cause any unintentional injury and from the looks of it you didn't seem to be very immune to that fact since you weren't exactly very muscular or buff. You were even somewhat tiny when compared to the rest of the team and yet Coach Washijo was confident enough to put you against Ushiwaka himself.

You got paired up with Tendou, Semi, Taichi, Goshiki and a few others when you divided teams amongst the players present.

"So Y/N-chan~ What position do you play exactly?" Tendou asked.

"Oh I didn’t tell you guys yet? I’m a Wing Spiker" You reply.

"Oh Really?! Little miss Y/N here spikes?" Tendou teases while making all sorts of gestures indicating how small compared to him you were.

"Cut it out, you idiot" Semi interjected with a slight smack to his head.

"If Ushijima-san has a good opinion about Y/N-san's ability, I wouldn’t doubt her considering how rarely he acknowledges another player’s skills" says Goshiki while internally thinking why can’t he ever get Ushiwaka's approval too.

"Wanna bet who scores the most points, Guess Monster?" You challenge Tendou with an smirk on your face.

"Oh my! Little miss Y/N is so daring~You got yourself a deal!" Tendou said excitedly.

The refree’s whistle blew and the match began. Ushiwaka’s team started with a serve which was recieved by your team and the ball was in the air. Semi recieved the ball and tossed it in the air as a set, but that set turned out to be sloppy because when he and the team were supposed to do warm ups and stretching, they were instead busy talking about you and Ushiwaka. The ball was set a little too high and far away for Tendou to hit and Goshiki was positioned in the back, so everyone expected it to be a lost cause and didn’t run after it, the other team relaxed as well. But then an unexpected tiny figure rushed between Semi and Tendou and jumped almost more than half their height and spiked the ball hard into Ushiwaka’s court, while everyone was still processing what just happened in what just felt like a split second. The refree’s whistle rang, evident of the point you just scored.

" Getting sloppy are we now, Miracle Boy?" You teased to which Tendou replied with his sticking his tongue out ‘’I’m just getting started, don’t get cocky’’ and when no one was noticing a small smile crept up on Ushiwaka’s face while the rest of them were plain frozen in their places still processing how were you able to perfect a shot with a set like that. The set was obviously bad and the chances of hitting it was very low but somehow you managed to fix your placement, jump about 3 feet high and spike the ball with crazy accuracy and with power what can only be assumed second to Ushiwaka himself!! All in just a split second.

During the match, you hit a lot of spikes and so did Tendou but the gap between the number of his spikes and yours just kept getting wider while the score of your team and Ushiwaka’s team was almost tied most of the time, no one had the clear lead the whole match, and no one was ready to back down from the other.

At set point, when you were positioned in the back it was your time to serve and you managed to serve a decent ball which almost scored another point if it wasn’t for their libero’s last minute recieve. The libero passed the ball to their setter, Shirabu who set the ball for Ushiwaka who then spiked the ball aimed at the corner of your court but before the ball hit the ground you whooshed in the last minute and managed to recieve the ball perfectly and then Semi and Tendou were able to score the last point which made your team win the practice match. When the refree whistle indicating your win, all your team mates started walking towards the benches, the managers started passing towels and water bottles but you on the other hand, started to walk towards Ushijima furiously.

‘‘That last shot. You intentionally hit the last spike slow and nearer to me so I can recieve it easily, didn’t you?!‘‘ You spat while slightly panting

‘‘You caught up on that?‘‘ Ushijima said while looking slightly sideways in order to avoid eye contact.

‘‘Why would you do that anyways, you don’t think I’m capable enough to take you head-on big guy?‘‘ You were furious. You might not be as tall and as poised as Ushijima but you weren’t bad either, you practiced a lot to perfect your techniques and when Ushijima deliberately was lazying his game, ofcourse that would make you mad.

Watching this a million thoughts came to the team’s head

Goshiki: This was a SLOWED shot?And that was an EASY recieve? Can they just adopt me already-

Semi: How did she recieve that ball that easily and wait- how would she know, if this was slowed and not a regular shot, how close are they exactly?

Shirabu: Even a spike like that has like a 95% success rate and she’s still not happy?She’s crazy,,,but in a good way I suppose?

Tendou: It’s like watching a little puppy trying to intimidate a Wolf and I bet she doesn’t even realizes it, how cute~

‘‘There’s no point of playing if you keep giving me half-assed shots like that, If you don’t want to practice with me anymore, just say it and I’ll go‘‘

‘‘No no Y/N, you’re getting me all wrong, please give me a chance to explain” Ushijima had genuine worry in his eyes when he said this he had a slight change of pitch in his voice ‘‘It’s true I intentionally slowed down the last spike but that wasn’t because I doubt you, It was because I know you like to give it your all, even in a practice games but the game wasn’t fair in the first place. You had gone through your morning training, then you had to attend school and then a whole tour of the campus, So it was obvious that you were already tired even if you weren’t showing it, I’m sorry but I couldn’t help but notice it when you runs were slower, spikes were less accurate than usual and I just couldn’t bear to see it anymore so I thought that it would help to finish the game early‘‘

It was true, you were already exhausted after all you went through during the day but it never showed on your face and the team didn’t realised it either, Still a phrase resounded in their heads ‘runs were slower and the spikes were less accurate than usual’ What kind of a monster was hidden inside your tiny frame?!

‘‘Listen Wakatoshi, I appreciate your concern but I don’t liked to be babied around like that, You can be upfront about it and I would’ve been mature about it‘‘ you said.

‘‘Then it’s my mistake I assumed you would just chase after me trying to beat me up‘‘ Ushiwaka replied genuinly thinking he was wrong.

‘‘DAMN RIGHT I WOULD HAVE, NEVER DOUBT ME EVER AGAIN OR IT WOULD BE THE LAST TIME YOU DO USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI‘‘ You screamed out to which Ushijima replied with an instant ‘’Yes ma’am‘’

‘‘Now that we have sorted that out, after a change of clothes let’s go out and eat some Hayashi Rice‘‘ You spoke to which Ushiwaka replied ‘’Certainly’’.

After the practice you changed into a normal t-shirt and shorts and after reaching the bench just outside the gym you realised that you changed faster than Ushijima, so you decided to sit and wait for him. While you were waiting you felt your calf muscles aching after the whole day of running and jumping,,,and since you already had the disadvantage of being smaller than the rest of the guys you were playing with, you had to run and jump extra.

Ushijima and the rest of the team came out after changing and were walking in your direction at a distance, and while the rest of the team were talking amongst themselves he from afar saw you slightly massaging your sore calfs, he already knew that you today would’ve been a toll on you body.

‘‘Ready to go?‘‘ You ask when Ushijima finally reached you, to which he gave a nod and then he picked up your bag and hung it over his chest to which you said

‘‘Wait what are you doin-’’

‘‘I noticed you still seem to be tired and I still feel guilty about the tour, so it’s the least I can do’’

"Is that so?" You said with a childish look and a cheeky smile on your face ‘"Then you can’t expect me to walk all the way over till we reach the restaurant' you gave him your puppy eyes look and without another word he got on one knee while you walked and stood over him with a stupid "yay" and then wrapped your arms around his neck while nuzzling your face into his broad shoulders with a stupid smile while he got a hold of your legs and finally stood up.

The whole team were frozen at their spots internally cursing both of you on either how single you both made them feel or how oblivious can you be. He then looked towards Tendou and spoke "Tendou, I’ll be a little late than usual, so you can lock the dorm room door if you decide to sleep early, I have my spare key along with me" to which Tendou just said "Oh okay" strangely being less talkative than usual.

After that Ushiwaka just started walking towards the restaurant with you Piggybacking on him like it was nothing while the discussion amongst the team about you two continued.

"They DO realise that THAT is not how people who are 'just friends' act, right?" Goshiki says still shocked.

‘‘I wouldn’t be so sure about that‘‘ Shirabu replied.

‘‘It’s so scary how oblivios Ushijima usually is but in matters like this he couldn’t get any dumber‘‘ Semi continues.

‘‘Who wants to bet against me that they won’t end up together?‘‘ Tendou speaks up with one of his arm in the air and one eye closed while the other looked around to see the people around him.

"Are you kidding, who’s stupid enough to take you up on that bet" Semi replies "Weren’t you here the whole practice? They’re prolly going to end up marrying each other’’.

[superworldunkown]

Smooth Operator

AN: Back, Back, Back again. I wrote this in like 30 minutes because I had this random fixation that Bakugou most likely has super soft smooth skin from his quirk but he’s also a super softy despite being a cranky lil bean. And then I was like, ‘Lemme make a Melanin Queen OC who doesn’t take his shit one bit and teases him.’ And here we are, my friends. 

Summary: Bakugou, a hard ass with smooth skin, and an equally smooth S/O Bakugou X Black! reader (Bakugou and a melanin queen is what we need in 2021 ya’ll). 

Bakugou sat in the debriefing plaza outside of Ground Beta, his red eyes watching each student exit the area with looks of victory or defeat on their faces. He had a habit of visiting this place during the entry exams. Twice a year, UA offered general studies students a change to earn their way into the hero course. Rarely, very rarely did anyone make it past the exams, but Bakugou somewhat enjoyed the fanfare around it. First it was to tip his nose at all the losers and extras who dared to think they could compete with him. Now it was to await the results of a pesky little shit of a student who, despite being now 0 and 5, still thought they were better than him.

“Ugh! Vlad your class is getting sloppy. If this is what the graduating class of 3B is going to give to the hero world. I might as well ask the villain's for mercy now.”

The hero scoffed, “You tried hard, Y/N, but your scores didn’t make the cut. Better luck next time.” 

“Yeah Yeah! Like your class could handle someone like me, Hah!” 

Your eyes scanned the plaza, spotting your favorite gremlin hero in the making. Despite how much your body ached, you pulled yourself together to give your best hero-esque walk towards his direction, “Aww did my favorite fan come to see me today?” 

Bakugou let out a huff before scooching over on the bench to let you sit. On the outside he hated you. You had this chaotic energy and an ego that should have never existed in a quirkless body like yours. But, then again, that’s what made him stick around the past two years. 

 You had no business being a hero, but every time the damn school had their try outs for the hero course, you were always first in line. You always talked shit to anyone who looked at you sideways for being quirkless, and more often than not you could beat them both verbally and physically. Even the first time you met him you didn’t back down, and that was when he was much, much less restricted. 

“Outta my way extra! Unless you wanna get blasted into next semester!” He said you on your first meeting in the cafeteria,

“It’s always the pretty rich kids with big quirks who have the most boring threats. If you’re going to make me shake in my uniform stop relying on that big mouth of yours. Don’t they teach you how to be intimidating in the hero course?” 

It was the flirting mixed with insults that he hated most about you. But also it drew him in every time. 

Not to mention, the way your brown skin glowed even on the grayest of days...Needless to say it was an absolute pleasure and nightmare to be associated with you. You were just Bakugou’s type. 

“I take it you failed, again. You gonna give up yet?”  

“Of course not. Like I said, I think UA would lose their minds if they let  quirkless kid into their hero course...they just ain’t ready yet for my level of skills.” 

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “You’re wasting your time. Quit now before you actually hurt yourself.” 

“And you’re wasting my time with that negative energy, Katsuki. Not all of us have the privilege of a flashy quirk and soft ass skin.” 

The blond glared, “I ain’t soft! I worked damn hard and that’s why I’m going to be the number 1 hero you idiot so don’t forget it!” 

Your sound of disbelief was extra sassy with the swelling of your jaw, “Okay please. You are so soft. You lose one match or, gasp! Someone looks at you wrong and your ego looses it’s shit.” 

Bakugou’s eyes instantly began to retract to tiny red orbs. Turning in your direction, he gave you one of his best, ‘Say another word and DIE’ faces. But you could see right through it. And you were pretty sure Bakugou knew that too. 

“I said it. Look at you.” The tips of your fingers glided up his biceps, rolling with each groove of his muscles, “Strong, mean, and a hardass on the outside,” You made your way over his shoulders, careful around his neck as you knew it was sensitive and settling right on his cheek, “But on the inside, you're soft as pudding, pudding.” Adding emphasis to your statement you gave his cheek a pinch and quickly retracted your fingers before the blond could bite them off. 

“You don’t even know what you’re talking about, dumbass!” 

“I know exactly what I’m talking about softy.” You countered while resting your elbows on your knees, “I had tough skin and hard lessons the day I was born. Ain’t nobody want to see a quirkless kid thinkin’ they could be a hero, let alone actually have a shot at making it.” Your lips, despite the bruises, twisted into a smile, “But I don't care. They can kick my ass all they want but at the end of the day they’re gonna know my name. Whether they cheerin’ or screamin’ it. They’ll never be able to forget me....and on the brightside its fun to put you wanna-be heroes in your place every now and again.” 

There it was. That piece of you that, despite how brute, loud, and obnoxiously cocky you were, he couldn’t get enough of. Even with a face full of bruises and defeat, you still had that fire in you, like you were somehow the secret winner of it all. And you did it all without a quirk. It was just you and your fire. 

“You keep lookin’ at me like that you’re going to make me do something I’ll regret.” You warned, snapping him out of his thoughts. 

“And what’s that?” He asked, leaning in just a tad.

You smirked, your eyes narrowing as you closed the gap between you two, your noses practically touching. In a swift move your lips dove into his cheek taking a playful bite at the baby fat that still lingered. 

“Ooo those cheekies are so soft I couldn’t help myself!”

[flying-nightwing]

Act IV: The Finale

Hi people! Finally the last part of this short serie! Honestly I had no expactation for it but I think it might slither into my all time favourite things I’ve written. I won’t lie, I think I’m in love with this last chapter. I feel like it’s the part we really understand both characters and their motivations in relation to each other. Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! 

Edit: I realize I have kept this gender neutral! so I change it on the infos on the first part and this one

Parts 1-3 in Masterlist!

Pairing: Tim Drake x gender neutral reader

Word count: 3456

Warnings: language, mention of violence (non-graphic)

“... And this is why I have taken the decision to repeal the vigilante act. All measures taken by the city and GCPD to collaborate with vigilantes on the matters listed are to be repelled at this instant. We will no longer tolerate criminals telling us how to protect our city and all arrest mandates out for vigilantes are to be reactivated--”

Tim passed a hand in his face after Bruce turned off the TV. There was some serious tensions going on in the batcave, especially after this gruesome live tape of the mayor, visibly held hostage in some kind of basement, delivered the new order to cancel all the work they had achieved to at least stop the cops from trying to hunt them down instead of focusing on actual crime. 

The first thing he had done once he came back to the cave was to research you in any database he could hack into. He started in the state registry, knowing you had told him you had been an orphan. He had no idea what was a lie and what wasn’t in what you had told him, but that was apparently true. The picture attached was a younger version of you, that was clear, but any update on your whereabouts stopped at age 11. Then, he tried to look for a driver’s license, passeport, any ID documents you could have. He also hit a dead end with that too, so he looked into less savory types of repertories. 

He finally found you in the mercenary databases, with a clear, recent picture and your… Impressive record. As he scrolled down your list of confirmed hits, he felt his stomach sink further and further. Marco Rizzo, the philanthropist, the kidnapped mayor, and it went on and on. What truly put him on the floor, however, was to see your credentials. You were Falcone’s main gun and you had trained under various mentors including Slade Wilson, out of all people.

You were the real deal and he had let himself fall for you, hard.

He felt stupid now. Did you even know who he was at night? Had you gone to him to throw him off your scent? Even after discovering all of this about you, a part of him still hoped you had no clue. It would hurt less to know it was a coincidence you bumped into each other rather than a calculated move from you. 

“So… Your date uh?”

Tim cringed when Bruce spoke up. It was even worse to hear it out loud. 

“I don’t wanna hear it” He mumbled, keeping his eyes dead set on the wall. He knew he had acted irresponsibly, he knew he should have seen the signs sooner, he knew he should have remained alert and not let himself be charmed by you, or let himself be sidetracked from his mission. It was a rookie mistake. 

“Talk about sleeping with the enemy” Damian snorted from behind them. Tim turned around, glaring at him. He was sitting in a computer chair, casually eating noodles with chopsticks and watching the exchange like it was a movie. Of course, the demon had spied on the conversation.

“Damian!”

“What?” He looked at Bruce, shrugging nonchalantly.

Bruce sighed, shaking his head. He returned his attention to Tim again. “What do you want to do now?”

Tim didn’t reply straight away. He was conflicted, angry, sad, disappointed; he had rarely felt such a cocktail of emotions like that. On one hand, he wanted to wallow in self pity. It seemed like the one thing left to do, as life finally sent someone he could see himself get with but made them the exact opposite of what he stood for. But he couldn’t, he had to put a stop to this madness. He had to confront you. 

“We’ll need to set a trap” He finally spoke, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “A contract that can’t be refused, draw them out. I’ll take care of it, it’ll be better that way”

“Are you sure you’ll be up to it?”

“Yes” Tim snapped, and Bruce took a careful step back. “I won’t be fooled twice. I can do it”

“Alright, just making sure” Bruce wasn’t convinced, but he still trusted his son. He knew he'd do the right thing if push came to shove. “What did you have in mind?”

Tim took a deep breath. “50 millions for a bullet in Bruce Wayne’s head”

---

It was too good to be true, and your suspicions of foul play were confirmed when your eyes spotted the red and black sticking out of the grim portrait of Gotham’s roof tops.

You knew something was up when you were offered a 50 millions solo contract. You usually went out for 15 millions for high profile targets, but curiosity got the best of you. The only thought of potentially pocketing that much money was enough of a motivation for you to at least find out what was up. But now, it was clear it was a set up as Red Robin himself was waiting for you. It was too bad for the money, but the prospect of facing a real Gotham vigilante for the first time was exciting. 

“I’ve beaten you twice already” You smirked. “You called me for a third?”

A scowl set on his masked face. “Trust me, there won’t be a third” He spoke up in a gravelling voice. “Either you come with me here and now, or we do this the hard way”

“Oh, now you’ve got me interested” You teased as you circled him. “Do tell me more about this hard way of yours”

He deployed his staff. Your eyebrows raised at his challenge. “You’re arrogant” He stated. He wasn’t wrong. “It’s gonna be your downfall”

“... Or not” You shrugged, not stopping your assessment of him. “Still waiting on the monologue detailing your plan to stop me, by the way”

“There isn’t one”

He lunged. He did it so quickly and smoothly you almost didn’t see him move. Your reflexes allowed you to roll out of the way just in time, and the way the staff collided with the cement told you it wouldn’t have been a long fight if that had hit its intended target: you. You looked at him and you regained your footing, reevaluating the situation. You were skilled, but you doubted it would be enough to go toes to toes with Red Robin, now that you had had a glimpse of what he could actually do.

You raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Catch me if you can”

Before he could process your world, you turned around and jumped off the building, landing on the roof a dozens of feet lower. You didn’t waste time taking off, knowing he would be right behind you. You ran across the rooftop and leaped off the ledge and above the alley to grab onto the fire exit on the next building over. You hurried to climb it, ending up on yet another rooftop. You ran alongside the pool and jumped over the tables, kicking them back to try and slow down Red Robin, who was little by little gaining on you. Fuck, he’s fast, you thought. You weren’t even tempting to look back, but you knew with the sound of his footsteps alone. 

You hadn’t planned on him being able to follow you that easily, not even cursing behind you as you took another jump over a considerable gap between buildings. You were fast, faster than most. Making exits had always been your strong suit, whether it was on foot, by car or otherwise. However, the only times you had faced him were when you had a rocket launcher as a deterrent or when you were driving an actual race car. Now that the field was levelled, you didn’t have the advantage anymore. You knew you wouldn’t be able to outrun him if you kept going on that way, so you had to change your strategy.

You took a sharp turn to the left and grabbed a clothesline, pulling out a knife from your belt and severing in behind your grip. You took a good running start and let yourself fall on the building on the other side of the street, pausing to glance at Red Robin standing where you had just been seconds ago. He was trying to find another way to cross, but there was none and even he couldn’t make that jump. You gave him a wave and a wink before taking off again. However, on the corner of your eyes, you still could see him tracking you relentlessly, not letting you get away so easily. 

You jumped over an alley, and instead of landing on the next roof, you aimed for the first balcony from the top. With your shoulder first and your head tucked in, you went straight through the sliding door window and rolled on the landing to smooth your fall. You glanced beside you at the terrified man in his underwear who was cowering on the couch and looked behind you, shrugging.

“Sorry for the mess” You didn’t wait until he replied to walk out the apartment. You jogged down the stairs, knowing Red Robin would have lost your trace now. Or so you thought.

You halted your steps when you noticed him waiting at the bottom of the staircase and leaning on the rail with a nonchalant expression, like it had been easy to predict you would come out that way. He returned the little sarcastic wave you had given him minutes earlier, making your face fall. You turned around and climbed back the steps back to the first floor, barging in and running across the hallway until you reached the window at the end. You took the time to open this one, seeing as he had not yet reached the floor. You slipped through it and climbed down the wall to land into the back alley. You were about to head for the streets when an already too familiar red and black figure blocked your way.

You took off in the opposite direction, well, until you came face to face with a brick wall. There was nothing to climb onto, no fire exit to use, no way to get away. You closed your eyes and cursed under your breath as footsteps reached you. He wasn’t in a hurry, his pace was tauntingly slow and confident he had you trapped. You recomposed yourself before turning around to face him.

“You forced me to make a mistake” You stated with a sigh. “Impressive”

“Told you” He said, taking a step toward you. “Arrogance did end up being your downfall”

“I don’t suppose we could have a rematch, uh?” You tried, smiling coyly. “That staff didn’t seem such a bad idea in hindsight”

“If you thought you could win then, you wouldn’t have dragged me into this pointless chase” He scoffed, and your eyebrows raised. He was right, but damn. “Unless you want a beating at that too”

“Ouch” You chuckled. “That really hurts my pride”

“Good” He smirked. “Now that you know you won’t get away from this one, just do the logical thing and surrender. There’s nowhere to go”

You held eye contact for a moment before slowly raising your hands. “Alright” You complied with a nod. “You earned that one”

He took careful steps toward you, alert to whatever quick move you would do. But you could recognize when you were beaten, so you didn’t plan any surprise move. Getting caught by a vigilante was an eventuality, even you knew you wouldn’t escape them forever. You just didn’t think it would have been this soon. He grabbed your wrists, and once he was sure he had you solidly enough, he twisted your arm behind you and pushed you rather roughly into the brick wall.

“Woah there champion” You coughed out in surprise. “I feel that spark between us, I really do, and I admit I am partially to blame for it, but I’m kinda seeing someone? And I’m really into him so if you could just. Stop manhandling me that way, that’d be great”

You felt him take a considerable step backward, and his grip on your arm dropped. You frowned, carefully turning around to face him. You didn’t understand why he had let you go, and his blush combined with his bewildered expression only made you more confused.

“Okay, what is going on, now?” You asked, not taking your eyes off him. It was like he was a completely different person now, and you couldn’t point out exactly why it was suddenly so familiar. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, jeez”

“I’m not” He defended too quickly, his voice wavering. Your eyes squinted even more as you took one step forward. He didn’t move, it was like he was frozen in place. “It doesn’t matter. It’s over for you”

“Uh” You took another step, and he squared up, trying to cover the fact he had totally lost his edge over you. You could have made a run for it, you knew it would have been ridiculously easy at that moment to evade him, but something held you back. You scrutinized him, your head tilting to the side. He gulped, and suddenly it all pieced together. That reaction to your flirting, you knew it all too well. Your eyes widened, before you gave him a sympathetic smile. “You know, while this mask does suit you, I prefer to see your eyes, handsome”

His muscles tensed for a second or two, but his shoulder sagged soon after. He sighed and rubbed his forehead. “How long have you known?”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean, how long?” You asked. “Thirty five seconds ago”

“You didn’t know before?”

“Uh, no” You replied. “What does it matter?”

“You… You didn’t go on a date with me to distract me from your trail?”

“No, I went on a date with you because I like you?” You raised an eyebrow. “I would have been way more careful with my lies if I had known, fuck I was so obvious, no wonder you figured it out. Besides, I just told you I’m really into you--”

You were surprised by the sudden movement of his arm that sneaked behind your neck and brought you flush against his lips. Okay then. You returned the kiss without hesitation holding on to his shoulders under the sheer force he was applying against you. It was a lot different from the shy boy you had met at the racetrack, but then again, he was Red Robin right now, more so than Tim Drake. You could have never connected the two if it hadn’t been from your flirting from up close. Before you knew, he tore himself from you and jumped back like you were actual fire, cursing under his breath. You blinked slowly at his sudden absence from your immediate vicinity, then rolled your eyes. Dramatic much?

“What is it now?”

“You’re still a criminal” Now he refused to meet your eyes. 

“Are you-- Is this because of what happened in the alley the other day?” You sighed, throwing your hands up before letting them fall back and slap on the side of your thighs. “I’m sorry, okay? I wouldn’t have ran you into the garbage pile if I had known it was you. And I wouldn’t have threatened you with a rocket launcher either-- Shit okay I see your point, I’m really sorry about that too”

“No!” He yelled. “I mean, yeah, kind of. But you kill people for a living, I can’t--”

“What does it change?” You asked. “You liked me before you found out. You were about to hand me to the police, I still like you! In fact, if you could ram me into the wall once again like you just did, I wouldn’t--”

“Please stop talking”

You grinned. “Does it turn you on?”

“Y-No” He replied, correcting himself last second. You raised a subjective eyebrow. “Stop that”

“Stop what?” You asked innocently. “I’m just saying it’s on the table. If I had known it was you when you did it, I would have enjoyed it so you’re welcome to do it again”

“Do you ever stop flirting?” He deadpanned. He crossed his arms against his chest, but it definitely didn’t have the intended effect. Instead, you just checked him out even more, since his muscles were very well defined in that suit. You liked it.

“With you? Not a chance, handsome”

And here came the blush again. He looked away and gulped, ignoring your self satisfied smile. You could do that all day and never get bored of it. Still, you regained a somewhat serious expression for the conversation that was inevitably coming.

“So now what?” You spoke up. “You give me to the cops? We pretend nothing happened between us? Because I’ll be honest with you, I don’t want that. I meant it when I said I liked you”

“My job is to stop crime, and the people who commit it” He began with a sigh. “I just can’t ignore the fact that you are one of the bad guy”

“That’s valid” You nodded slowly. “But this is just a job. I don’t do it for the power trip of taking people out, I do it because I’m good at it, and because I like the money that comes with it. Although, I’ll admit I do enjoy making dramatic exits from time to time--all the time”

Tim snorted. Of course you liked your exit, that had been obvious from the start. But even if he did not agree with your job, or with the lack of morals that came with it, he had to recognize the difference between you and the typical Gotham criminal. From what he had found out so far about you, you never caused casualties in any of your contracts. You always kept the mess to a minimum. You were a far cry from the Joker or Poison Ivy, for that matter.

Even if you couldn’t see his eyes clearly, you could just see the gears turning in his head. Would it be so bad if he let you go? What if he kept seeing you? He could agree with you on one thing: behind his reluctance because of your job, he really didn’t want to pretend nothing happened. He liked you a lot, and it absolutely frustrated him that the one god sent person he instantly clicked with was on the other side of his moral spectrum. 

“Tell me” You said softly, bringing back his attention to you. “If you had never found out about my job, would you have asked me on a second date?”

“Yes” He didn’t hesitate in his answer. It was like you could read his mind, reminding him of how well you fit together. He wanted both to scream and to kiss you again. 

You took a deep breath, letting him think some more. You could very much suspect the news of your activities was harder on him than his were on you, so you understood the need to let him a little space while he figured it all out. You had half expected him to go ahead with his initial plan though, so you prepared yourself mentally for him eventually binding your wrists and dragging you to the nearest precinct. 

That’s probably why you were surprised when he took a step aside, no longer blocking you from leaving. You didn’t move, only stared at him.

“I won’t give you a free pass if I catch you doing shady stuff” He sighed, gesturing to the exit of the alley. “ But for this time, I guess I’ll see you next time you do something stupid”

“Not before?” You raised an eyebrow. The corner of his lips slightly lifted.

“Maybe before”

“Is that a yes on the second date?” You asked, hopeful. “7:30 next Friday at that lobster place you mentioned?”

“Will you be working that night?”

“I won’t!” You hurried to confirm. “I swear I won’t”

He let out a long sigh like he was reconsidering his entire life. “What the hell, sure”

“Great!” You grinned wide, stealing a quick kiss on his lips. 

“Go, now” He ordered, gaining back his more authoritative vigilante voice. Oof, that was hot, you thought, but you kept it to yourself for once. “Before I change my mind”

“See you on Friday, handsome!”

He watched you run out of the alley, finding himself suddenly excited at the prospect of seeing you again, whether it would be as Red Robin or as himself on a date with you.

[thiswasinevitableid]

Personal Demon (Indruck)

@pantstacular requested: 58 Is such my entire jam I’d pretty much die if you did it with Indruck.  “I’m a demon, you’re a witch, we’re enemies but when I show up to kill you, you’re crying and I really don’t know what to do now.” SFW

A talented, young warlock will employ the most complex, innovative, and powerful wards on their home. 

A seasoned warlock who was never that excited about all this in the first place will employ straightforward but deeply aggravating wards on their home. 

Indrid’s nemesis is in that second category. His wards are never fancy, but they’re durable and reliable, an utter pain in his tail to break down. Some cannot be broken by spells at all, and even a demon of his skill could burn through all his power trying to destroy them.

Which is why Indrid simply pays a passing human twenty dollars to kick a gap in the salt barrier, grits his teeth passing through the Rowan trees while his skin feels like he’s getting a full-body tattoo, and uses an oven mitt to open the iron door knob (the door is lined with iron, so he cannot slip as a shadow beneath it), hissing in pain all the while. 

“Duck Newton…” He lilts, certain the warlock will be terrified to hear his voice in his strong hold, “it is time to end things once and for all, dearest enemy.”

He keeps his eyes on the present, not wanting to spoil the fun for himself by peeking at the futures. He glides into the human’s bedroom, plants his feet on the floor, “your worthless soul is mine.” 

“Ughhhh” a muffled sound, Indrid flicking on the lights to find the human face-down on his bed, “are you fuckin serious? Now?”

“Yes, Duck Newton, now” dark energy crackles in his fingertips. 

Thwump

“Ack!” He shakes his head, Duck now sitting up, preparing to throw another pillow at him. 

“Get out.” Duck glowers, voice flat. 

“You dare to order me-”

Thwump

“Get!” Duck’s eyes are wet, red-rimmed, and Indrid notices he’s in sweatpants and a ratty t-shirt that’s damp in patches. 

“Have you been crying?” 

Thwump and his glasses are knocked askew. 

“How many of those blasted things do you have?” 

Two hovering pillows turn to four and all collide with him at once.

“Clearly you are, ow, in no mindset to, ow, duel me as I, ack, see fit. I shall return!”

He dissolves into shadow and speeds out the door, materializing on the sidewalk and paying a passerby ten dollars to fix the salt ring. 

Not willing to let a plan go to waste, he repeats this process the next night. This time, Duck is laying in the darkened living room. 

“Now, my greatest adversary, it is time to meet your end--why are you still crying?” He cocks his head as Duck magics the light on. 

“Because I’m in my own fuckin’ house and can do whatever I want.”

“But you seem upset.”

“No fuckin shit, sherlock.” Duck raises a throw pillow and Indrid covers his face far faster than he’d ever admit in public.

“I merely mean that, ah, perhaps a duel would be a welcome change of pace?”

“I look like I’m in the headspace to duel to you?” 

“Not at the moment, but that could change, yes? I do wish to destroy you, is that sufficient motivation to shake off this fog of misery that’s hanging about your soul like stale cologne?”

Duck groans, but straightens, reaching over the far arm of the couch. Indrid perks up, approaches at a safe distance, certain he will see a familiar sword or spell in a moment. 

What he gets is misted with holy water.

He hisses, wiping his face in a hurry. His power is so great that the diluted mixture doesn’t harm him, but it’s as if someone is squirting him in the face with lemon juice. 

“I banished you worse ways than this, demon, but I’m fuckin tired and you ain’t worth the goddamn energy and you don’t wanna end up straight back below. So get.” He raises the spray bottle, spritzes him again and Indrid backs away, spluttering and hissing. 

“You, you think you can threaten me, shoo me out like OW some common ghost GAh that was in my nose that time fine, fine I am going.” He stumbles over the threshold, falling on his ass on the pavement as Duck slams the door. 

Perhaps a new plan is in order. 

----------------------------

“You wanna know Ducks’ what?” Aubrey taps her spoon on the edge of the potion she’s mixing. 

“His favorite food. I wish to cheer him up. Unless of course, you wish to simply tell me what is troubling him.” Indrid grins at the witch.

“You know the rules, Cold; I don’t trade information between sides. And, like, even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you what’s going on with him. It’s...personal, okay?”

Indrid sighs. He expected that answer. Aubrey is the child of a witch of the light and a witch of the shadows, giving her a rare balance of powers. It also means entities of all moral alignments will come to her for aid. Her rules are simple; no fighting in her house and no getting her in the middle of major conflicts.

For all that, Indrid still has never told her his true name. She calls him ‘Cold,’ as everyone does. 

“French Onion Soup. That’s his favorite thing, from the Wolfe Grill downtown.”

“He likes that coffee fudge too, the one Barclay makes” Dani, Aubrey’s wife, adds from her spot spinning fur off a massive angora rabbit. 

Barclay is a kitchen witch, one with whom Indrid has a shaky truce (he egged on a fight in the restaurant, needing some quick points with the higher demons. It’s not his fault one of the humans knocked over a candle). He can probably manage to buy fudge without being scolded.

Duck’s added more fortifications since yesterday, and Indrid only needs a few moments anyway. He finds a sliver in a plane that lets him slip into Duck’s mirror, knowing the human is getting ready for bed. 

The human senses him, looks up from the sink, toothbrush still in his mouth. He blinks once, to tired to even count as annoyance.

“ ‘wat ‘ow?”

“I have brought you food.” Indrid waits until Duck spits into the sink to pass the two bags out of the mirror. 

“Why-”

“It will cheer you up. It is your favorite. Then you will have your fight back, and be ready to face me.”

Duck takes the bags, then several steps back, “y’know, most demons would see this is a chance to get me while I’m down.”

“Well” Indrid sniffs haughtily, “I am not most demons. Besides, what good is claiming your soul if it was like stepping on an ant?”

The warlock looks at the food, then at Indrid, “I ain’t gonna eat this.”

“Bu-wha-I got it specifically to please you!”

“And it could be poisoned or cursed or some shit.”

Indrid growls in frustration, “fine, wallow in your misery.” Then he’s out on the street again, ready to cause some evil. Or to go back to the bakery and drown his aggravation in a caramel eggnog latte.

----------------------------

Duck stares at the bags, still sitting on his kitchen counter. If he’s not going to bed any time soon, he should at least eat something. Not that though. Even if it’s his favorite. How the fuck did the demon know that?

Cold has never quite been like other demons Duck’s run across. When he’d yanked him out of Boyd (because Ned decided to read the inscription on a new artifact for the Cryptonomica), he hadn’t taken it personally, but proceeded to try and tempt Duck for two days solid with everything he could think of. Then he decided he liked Kepler and could do plenty of demonic work in it, which had Duck worried. The demon is powerful, he can feel it when they fight. But, while he still worries, Cold sticks to being a mid-level threat at best even if he keeps promising to destroy him.

God that soup smells good. 

He picks up a piece of amethyst, runs it over and over the air around the bag. No trace of anything dangerous. 

Fuck it.

Twenty minutes later his belly is full, he actually feels kinda sorta almost borderline happy, and he hasn’t turned into a frog or been transported to the underworld. 

When Cold inevitably shows up again a few days later, Duck doesn’t even look up from the model ship he’s working on . 

“Thanks for, uh, for dinner.” 

“How did you know I was here?” The silver-haired man steps out of the hall, red eyes glowing behind redder glasses. 

“I may not be able to sense auras or souls or shit, but you and I been dancin around each other for long enough that I can tell when the hair on my neck is standin up thanks to you.”

“Then you are prepared to fight?”

“No. Look, I dunno now how it is for demons, but takes more than nice food to make a fella get over somethin serious.”

“I see…” Cold looks around the room, “are you certain you are not interested in even a small bit of conflict?”

“Nope. Busy.”

“Well I am not!”

“Can’t you just go find another warlock to bother?””

“No! Well, yes, but I do not wish to. You are my adversary, the one I devote most of my time to tormenting.”

“That’s kinda an exaggeration. And it don’t change that I’m workin on this.” He points to the model, “so I’m just gonna ignore you until you leave.”

There’s a huff, followed by the fluttering of his mail as the demon knocks it onto the floor. He glances up and notices that Cold’s tail is now visible and twitching with agitation. When Duck does nothing else, he knocks the remaining mail on the ground. 

“That ain’t changin my mind.”

A roll of glass on tile, Cold pushing a water glass towards the edge of the counter with his finger. 

“Y’won’t like what happens if you do that.”

The glass tips over. As water spills onto the floor, Duck summons a towel with one hand and a dish of salt with the other. Before the demon can stop him, he draws a salt circle, trapping him in a small spot by the table. 

“Erase that this instant.”

“Nope. You been poppin in and out the last two weeks and not leavin when I ask nicely, so now you’re gonna stay right here until I decide you can leave.”

The demon drops down onto the floor, arms crossed and tail thrashing, “I just do not see what is so severe it makes you uninterested in anything but work, sleep, and making ships that cannot go anywhere.”

“Don’t expect you to understand.”

“Yes, but you also will not tell me so how can you know if-” a future flickers into vision, “your romantic partner left you.”

“That’s cheatin’.”

“That is what has upset you so?”

“Yeah, because we were together for six fuckin years, and she watched me grow up since I was eighteen and was my mentor and it feels like a big constant in my life is just fuckin gone.” He leaves out the part where he'd felt it going for awhile, where part of him knew it needed to but the rest wanted things to stay as they were. 

The demon cocks his head in that way of his, smirks but says nothing.

“Nevermind. You’re a demon, love ain’t somethin you got a concept of.” He stands, retrieving another bottle of adhesive from the too-empty living room. 

As he picks up the next piece, Cold murmurs, “It is not so foreign a concept as you might think.”

Duck shoots him an incredulous look. 

“I was a creature of the divine once, beings capable of great love, even if many of them do not utilize that capacity. Even if I was not supposed to in my role. But more than the memory of that feeling, I have moments in which I suspect I can feel it still.”

“Like when you see someone do somethin real wicked?” 

The demon doesn’t rise to the paltry bait, “When I go sit in a park, or those woods you like, and draw and watch people coming and going in a thousand little moments of mundanity, I feel something more than mere tranquility. Sometimes I will go to movies or to concerts, to feel the swell of joy and excitement, and it almost seems as if I love those around me.”

It’s the last thing Duck expects him to say, and so all he can do is stare at him a moment before returning to his work. The demon, content with the silence, watches cross-legged. When Duck grabs a packet of cookies from the kitchen he pauses, then hands one to Cold. 

The demon sniffs it, proceeds to nibble on the edge before making a delighted sound and shoving the whole thing in his mouth. 

“You never had Girl Scout cookies before?”

“No. I do not need to eat, and often only do so when temptation requires it. Or when Barclay makes something with eggnog in it.  Which is a pity; I really enjoy human food, you come up with such interesting things. Now it is my turn for a question. Why are you making those?”

Duck looks at the near-complete model, “I dunno. Helps me relax, nice to just be able to focus on one thing rather than worryin’ about work or warlock stuff or dyin’ alone or if you’re gonna randomly turn up in my goddamn bedroom without warnin’.”

“Knocking is not exactly demonic.”

He says it so matter-of-factly, the smile on his face oddly honest, that Duck cracks up. Giggles spill out of him as he rests his face in his hands. His elbows slip on the shiny tabletop, collapsing him forward, laughing loud enough to startle the cat from her hiding place. 

“Yeah” he sniffs, finally sitting up while wiping away tears and still chuckling, “guess it ain’t.”

The demon is smiling again, softer than his usual grin that glints like a knife in the dark. 

“Will you show me more of your ships?”

“You ain’t gettin outta that circle that easy.”

“I am aware. But you could bring them where I could see.” He seems genuinely excited at the idea. 

Duck stands, hands him the packet of Thin Mints, “I could do that, yeah. Sit tight, I’ll be right back.”

-----------------------------------------------

Duck picks up to the two reusable grocery bags, locking doors and throwing up extra wards behind him as he walks to his car. 

He slides into the drivers seat, sets the bags in back behind him. Turns around and finds the passenger seat occupied. 

“Venturing forth at last, I see.”

“I ventured forth plenty.”

“That was only for work. You have been the picture of a hermit since you were dumped, Duck Newton.” Cold adjusts his glasses in the rear-view mirror. 

“Have not. And it was mutual.”

“Shall we get out of the car so I can destroy you?”

“We could do that. Or…” he points at the bags, the demon peering into them curiously, “we could take these two bags of snacks to a concert in the park.”

Cold bites his lip. Duck holds his breath, already gearing up his spells in case the demon says no.

A seatbelt clicks, “very well.”

They find a spot under some trees, far back from the crowd. Cold is in his human disguise, but Duck would rather not risk being seen if his tail or horns make an appearance. The concert is all movie soundtracks that Duck doesn’t pay attention to. He’s too busy watching the demon gleefully explore the food he brought (he chose the weirdest desserts and snacks he could find, wanting to give him a taste of things he’d never had) and talking with him about more or less everything.

As they’re getting into the car under the light of the half moon, Cold sighs happily, “we should do this again sometime.”

“Yeah, we could. Just uh, don’t get your hopes up, okay?”

-------------------------------------------------------------

Duck is up to his elbows in the pieces of an IKEA dresser when Cold’s voice comes through the mirror.

“I need to be let in right now please and thank you.”

He sounds pained, so Duck hurries out to the front yard and opens the circle, allowing the demon to pass through. He’s hunched at an odd angle, clutching at his back. Once they’re inside he strips off his coat, revealing a splinter at the base of his neck. 

“Shit, what happened?”

“I materialized in the house of a well-prepared witch and was immediately backed into a Hawthorne bush. Lucky I am not a vampire, but gracious it stings.”

“Why come to me?” Duck is already guiding him to the couch.

“I thought you might be able to help. Also it is movie night.”

Duck examines the injury; it’s a small splinter, but the skin is already looking sickly. 

“Should be an easy fix. Lemme get my tools and I can get to work.”

------------------------------------------------

Indrid waits patiently for Duck to return, tries not to hiss at him too loudly when he pulls the splinter free. The human works quickly, and soon a tingling salve coats the sore spot. 

Rather than pull away, Duck smooths his hands down Indrid’s back, “damn, you’re all knotted up.”

“I was trying not to move too much and aggravate it.”

Duck’s thumbs rub small circles along his back, “here, I can fix that real easy.”

Indrid foresees where his fingers will touch next and let’s his desire overtake his caution. When Ducks hands come down again, he whimpers and wiggles happily. 

“Uhhhhh”

“It is my wings. In a way. They exist on another plane when not manifested here, and where you are touching is the place where it feels as you are stroking them.”

“That a good thing?”

“Yes, but you do not need to continue if you do not waAAhnnnt” he gasps as Duck slowly, steadily, runs his fingers over the spot again and again. 

The human leans forward, giggling, and whispers in his ear, “you’re purrin’.”

“I am awarerrrrrrrr.” His tail and horns appear, seeming to understand there is no need to hide here.  One of Duck’s hands skates up to his head, petting his hair and stroking his horns.

He whines, pushes his head into Duck’s hand for more. 

“Is this-”

“No Duck Newton, it is not sexual. It can be, but at the moment it simply feels comforting and pleasurable.” He purrs louder as Duck rubs the base of one horn. 

“That’s a good, uh, good demon? Bein’ so patient while I patch him up.” Duck coos. 

“Yes.” Indrid whimpers. 

“Lookit you, goin all mushy on me, so goddamn cute. Who knew you had it in you.”

“Duck.” Something is coiling through his veins, warm and ecstatic, as the human keeps up his stream of praise.

“Right here, demon of mine, just relax, lemme tend to you, there we go, you’re bein so good, such a charmin demon.”

Tears prick his eyes; he can’t, he can’t handle Duck speaking this way but speaking as if Indrid could be changed out for any one of his kind. He wants to know he means those words for him, he must, the feelings flooding him are incomplete without it and if they remain so he will wither away.

“Indrid, please, call me that.”

“Indrid.” It sounds joyous in that drawl as Duck adds a hint of pressure to his touches, “Indrid, you oughta stop gettin into trouble, oughta just stay here and put your head in my lap.”  The human is getting carried away, the fantasies becoming more elaborate, interspersed with his name, until the name itself becomes the litany. 

Indrid cries out, the energy in his veins enveloping him utterly for a moment, wings of absolute darkness flashing into view for an instant

He collapses forward, shaking, hoping the thanks pouring from his mouth are intelligible. 

“You, uh, you doin’ okay--Oh FUCK!”

Indrid whirls, finds Duck staring at his arm. There are glowing markings on it, blue and black light fading into a facsimile of ink on his skin. 

“What did you do?”

“What did I do? What makes you think this has anything to do with me?”

“Because this wasn’t there a minute ago! And you got one too!”

“I…” Indrid gapes at his forearm, where a matching symbol is setting in his skin. “Oh dear.”

“What?”

“It is, ah, well, it is a soul bond.”

“How in the everlovin’ fuck did that happen--wait, fuck, is Indrid your true name?”

“Yes.” 

“Shit! I thought you gave me another false one, or I never woulda kept saying it. I ain’t that kind of warlock, I don’t want a personal demon.”

“I am not exactly thrilled either. I cannot return to the underworld, and for the first few days of the bond I will need to stay very close to you. All the same, that was rash of me and I am sorry.”

Duck rubs his forehead, takes a deep breath, “we’ll deal with it tomorrow. Right now, all I wanna do is sleep.”

“I as well. I suspect that took a lot of energy from both of us.”

The human stands, heading off towards the bedroom. As soon as he’s out of sight, pangs pulse through Indrid’s chest.

“Ah, Duck?”

A groan, “yeah, I feel it too. Get in here.”

Indrid hurries to the bed, finds Duck down to his boxers as he turns over the covers. 

“I, ah, I can sleep on the floor, or get a blanket for that chair, or lay by your feet.”

Duck pats the bed, “sleepin next to you ain’t nothin’ compared to bein’ soul bonded. Bed feels too big anyway. And none of that by my feet talk; you’re my equal, not my fuckin pet, even if you are a pain in my ass sometimes.”

Indrid crawls in beside him, lays stiffly on his back as the lights go out. After so much contact, his body aches to touch Duck again. 

A hand rests in the space between them, and Indrid takes it.

“Duck? I, ah, I am glad that if this had to happen to me, it was you who it happened with. I cannot think of another warlock I would actually enjoy being linked too.”

“Feelin’s mutual.” Duck squeezes his hand, voice gentle.

Indrid rolls to face him, and in the dark he can just make out the slight smile on the warlock’s face. 

“Goodnight, Duck.”

A yawn, then, “sleep tight, Indrid.”

[turtle-steverogers]

Not Guilty- 2

murder mystery’s back! im having too much fun with this story guys

Link to chap 1 in case you need it

warnings: albert being a human disaster, abuse of the word ‘milk’

ship: ralbert, platonic spalbert

word count: 1680

editing: lmaoooo no

Chap 2

When Albert gets to the precinct the next morning, he’s wary to find a wrapped parcel on his desk that looks suspiciously like a sandwich.  He pokes at it, frowning when he sees a singular smiley face drawn on the underside in black sharpie.

 “Hey, uh, Spot?” He calls, looking up when he hears his partner’s chair roll out from his desk and subsequently poke his head around the low wooden wall that separates their cubicles.

“Yes, honeycakes?” Spot’s expression is the face of innocence and Albert’s stomach churns.

“Did you-” He stumbles, gesturing to the presumed sandwich, “Is this for me?”

“It’s on your desk, isn’t it?” Spot smiles, rolling back into his cubicle.

Albert sighs, taking off his messenger bag and jacket and sitting heavily in his desk chair.  He cautiously unwraps the white paper to find a loaded meatball sub sitting in the middle of a napkin.  There’s a sticky note placed delicately on the fluffy white bread and Albert plucks it up, squinting at the words:

Sorry you didn’t finish your sandwich xoxo Spottie

He laughs probably too loud and sticks the sticky note on his desktop, right next to the note from Jack that reads: ‘I’m sorry for stealing your pants, I had brains on mine’ after Jack had taken his extra pair of slacks from his locker when his got spoiled at a crime scene.

He takes a bite of the sandwich, pleased to find that he can still stomach his favorite Gianno’s special after yesterday’s events.  As he chews, careful not to get any tomato sauce on his shirt, he plucks a sticky note from his own pad and scrawls out: Thanks, Pop Spotcket.  Love u, dear xoxo and tosses it over to Spot.

A moment later, Spot snorts indignantly, “‘Pop Spotcket’? Really? Does anyone actually use those anymore?  The only person I know who has one is my niece and she’s eleven.”

Albert rolls his chair so he’s in Spot’s cubicle, sandwich still in hand, “I have one, asshole.  They’re useful.  Anyway, thanks for the sandwich.  How’s it looking at Gianno’s?”

Spot sighs wearily, placing a stack of papers down and turning from his computer to look at Albert, “Eh.  They’re closed today.  I stopped by this morning to pick up some evidence left at the crime scene and one of the waiters asked if I wanted anything and I remembered that you didn’t get to finish your lunch yesterday so…”

“Thanks, man,” Albert says, mouth full.  Spot wrinkles his nose and tells him not to speak with food in his mouth.  Albert rolls his eyes, “Anyway, evidence?  What’s new?”

“Nothing really,” Spot says, “Just Wiesel’s receipt from his last meal.  Wasn’t really much on it, but it gave us a sure timestamp that lines up with our original record, so at least that’s set.”

“Good,” Albert shoves the last bit of sandwich into his mouth, licking his fingers.

“Yeah.  Saw our boy there, though.”

Albert raises his eyebrows, “Higgins?”

“Mhm.”

“How’s he?”

Spot shrugs, “Didn’t talk to him.  Kid looked like shit.  Well, more shitty than yesterday if that’s somehow possible.  Kept sending cute little glares my way, fucking ray of sunshine, that one.”

“Christ,” Albert grimaces, “I’m convinced he’s a player in this debacle somehow.  I mean, he seemed genuinely surprised when he found out the vic was Wiesel, but too many strings lead to connections on his end.”

“Yeah,” Spot agrees, “I dunno, I say we dig a little into Wiesel’s other relations as well.  I feel like there’s a gap here somewhere.”

“Toxicology came back,” Albert says after a pause.

Spot looks at him, eyebrows raised, “And?”

“Sarin poison in the blood.  Stab wounds were post-mortem.  Someone wanted this shit to look messier than it is.”

“Interesting.  I wonder who’d go through the trouble of poisoning, then following up with a physical attack.  ‘Specially in a public place.  S’kinda risky.”

“That’s what I was thinking, but whoever it was, clearly knew what they were doing.”

“Clearly…”

XXX

Albert never understood why there was such a wide variety of milks in the world.  And why, in this moment, he can’t find any simple fucking 2%.  

He scans over the selection again, bypassing the almond and oat milks and skimming over the fritzy lactose free shit.  There’s strawberry milk and chocolate milk on display and even horrifyingly enough, mint milk, but no fucking 2%.  It’s not even like this fucking bodega is big enough to warrant having so many milks. 

He just wants some damn normal person milk!

“Excuse me, detective.” 

Albert doesn’t startle.  He doesn’t.  He’s a trained law enforcement officer and detective.  People like him don’t fucking startle.  But, he is on high, professional alert when he turns around to see Antonio Fucking Higgins standing behind him, eyebrows raised in what’s probably amusement and hands shoved in his pockets.

Albert makes a strangled noise, eyes working on their own accord as they trail down Higgins’ body.  He’s sweaty, looking like he just came from some sort of workout, and a pair of tight adidas running pants hug his legs in all the right places.  He’s in a tank top today, somehow doing his arms more justice than the grey shirt he’d been wearing yesterday.  A hat sits backwards on his head, doing little to tame the curls that are trying to sneak out of the stupid hole where the strap meets the fabric.  He looks hot and it’s unfair and Albert’s never been ashamed of his sexuality, but right now he’s wishing that he could reign in his gay ass a little bit because aside from the fact that Higgins is a bit of a prick, he’s also a suspect and that’s, like, number one in the Book of Nope for cops of any kind.

Higgins is still looking at him, but now there’s a small crease of concern between his eyebrows, “You alright, man?” He asks, “You look kinda like you’re having a heart attack.  Do you have any chest pain?  Your left arm feel numb at all?”

Albert shakes himself, morphing his expression into something he hopes looks less like Gay Panic, “Yeah, sorry, I-” He splutters a bit, then shuts his mouth with a click.  

Higgins scoffs, “I just need milk, man, you mind?”

Albert starts, hastily stepping out from where he was definitely blocking the milk selection and watching as Race grabs a carton of-- fucking 2%.  How did he find it so fast?  How did Albert not see it?  He’s supposed to be the one trained to look for details others don’t see!

Trying not to flush, Albert reaches out and grabs a carton as well and Higgins looks at him again, laughing, “You were standing here for a long time, dude, I thought you were gonna murder the milk for a second.”

“Couldn’t find the 2%.” Albert mumbles, blushing harder when Higgins laughs louder.

“Real good reconnaissance there, detective.”

When Higgins is laughing, his face changes into something a whole lot more pleasant.  Not that it was ever unpleasant (the dude’s got a jawline of a god), but some of the hardness in his eyes and shadows on his face go away and for just a second, he looks like the 25 year old he’s supposed to be.  It’s nice, Albert thinks, ignoring the way alarm bells are going off in his head.

“Shut up, Higgins, I’m tired.  Some of us have to read about murders all day, so excuse me if my milk finding skills aren’t the most refined.”

Higgins’ face softens and the smile in his eyes turns into something else that Albert doesn’t want to dissect, “Race.”

“What?”

“Higgins is my dad, not me.  And I don’t like the name Antonio very much, so if we’re gonna be talking more, be it over murder or milk, call me Race.”

“Race?”

Higgins--Race--winks, “That’s a story for level five amici.”

“Oh, okay.”

They pause for a moment and even though Albert’s not drunk, his inhibitions seem to flutter away from him against his will as he blurts out, “Drinks sometime? Would- uh- would you wanna get drinks sometime?”

And fuck-fuck- SHIT- what are you doing Dasilva? What the fuck?

Race considers him for a moment, “Not that I wouldn’t hit that,” he nods to Albert’s body and Albert flushes.  Damnit with the flushing!  He’s 26, not some flouncy high schooler, “But I don’t think that’s a good idea, detective.”

Albert nods, “No, yeah, honestly I don’t know why I asked- uh-”

“Relax, don’t have an aneurysm, it’s okay.  I just don’t think it’s a good idea right now.”

“No no, you’re right.  Absolutely.”

There’s another pause, then Race smiles apologetically, “I gotta go get the rest of my groceries.  Take care.”

Albert cringes internally at how fucking painfully awkward this exchange has been, “You too,” he says, watching Race retreat to the wine aisle.  He takes another moment to gather himself, then goes to the checkout line.

XXX

Albert turns up the volume on his TV, pleased with the quiet solitude of his apartment for the night.  He doesn’t love living alone, but it’s been a long couple days and he’s been looking forward to a night to himself since he’d woken up that morning.  Just him, some thai, and the Animal Planet playing reruns of ‘It’s Me or the Dog’ all night.  Fucking self care.

He’s just yelling at some dog owner on the TV for feeding his pug 24 eggs a day and watching as Victoria Stilwell chews out the greasy fucker when his phone rings on the coffee table in front of him. 

Groaning, Albert mutes the show and chugs down a few sips of beer, before picking up the phone and answering with an annoyed, “Someone better be dying.”

There’s silence on the other end and Albert pulls the phone away from his ear to check the caller ID.  It’s Spot.  Shit, someone might actually be dying.”

“Spot?  Everything okay?”

Spot sounds sheepish when he says, “Well no one’s dying, technically…”

“But…”

“There was another murder.”

“Shit.”

-

Race went straight home after the bodega, right? RIGHT!??!? stay tuned ;)

thanks saph for ‘pop spotcket’

thanks for reading, chiefs

hmu to be added to my tag

TAG LIST: @getchapapes @we-dont-sell-papes @suddenly-im-respecsable 

@aw-jus-let-em-try @well-the-kids-do-too @spot-conlon-king-of-brooklyn @felix-loves-albert-and-ralbert @technically-whizzy

@andthewoildwillknow @the-newsies-justice-for-zas-blog @localfakeitalian @have-we-got-news-for-you @musical-shitposts @thebroadwayaesthetic

@thomasbeingthomas

@irondad-spiderson-duo

@snakesarenonexistent 

@i-got-no-clue-what-im-doing 

@kpop-kk

@mentallytiredgoat

@yxseminx

@be-more-chill-evan-hansen 

@stopthe-presses

@elmers-half-a-cup

@and-i-lostmy-shoe

@spot-me50-papes

@honeynutpoptarts

@newsies-ensemble

@bennie-badeend 

@auspicioustarantula 

@faithmil 

@hopefully-not-the-ghostbusters

@bxnesof92

@backgroundensemble

@sure-as-a-star

@skybert-daherty 

@eveningpaper

@malex-13

@albert-eats-cookie-cake

@heart-a-n-o-n

@bitching-newsboys

@orollyitsracetrackhiggins

@joshuaburrageenthusiast

@random-superhero-stuff

@awkwardstranger98

@falling-out-trees-101

@modern-race-owns-airpods

@asphodelnerd

@i-dont-do-sadness

@rockyroad236

@sirgrahamcracker

@godhatesjordan

@thats-our-que-boys

@bastille-smedry

@nerdsies

@toss-me-a-pape

@wolfbutterfly42

@revolutioninthesewers

@spot-the-brooklyn-pirate

@aintnosleevesinbrooklyn

@1-800-santa-fe

[djgamek1ng]

Shadowbringers Tank Thoughts! [FFXIV]

Well, with patch 5.2 out with a singular change to any of the tanks (WAR’s shield on Shake it Off went up to 12% of Maximum HP to 15% of Maximum HP at base), it is as good a time as any to make this post. I’ll go over all 4 tanks and describe how I’m feeling about them, maybe with some initial impressions mixed in there as well. Let’s start with the ARR jobs and work towards the ShB tank with GNB. First up, the angriest job: WAR!

Warrior (WAR):

FELL CLEAVE! FELL CLEAVE! FELL CLEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAVE! The one button that changed tanking forever. Seriously, every tanking job has their Fell Cleave button. For PLD it is Holy Spirit, for DRK it is Bloodspiller and for GNB it is Burst Strike. So, what did WAR get with Shadowbringers? Not too much, but what it got was quite nice.

It got a combo skill from Overpower called Mythril Tempest and unlike Overpower it is a circle around you instead of a cone ahead of you, more on that later

Mythril Tempest also extends the Storm’s Eye buff and it gives 20 Beast Gauge

It got Nascent Flash, which is a buff you put on someone and for 6 seconds (roughly 3 GCDs if done well) you give them 10% mitigation and heal them based on the damage you do. You also get healed for 200% of the same amount you heal them (or they get healed for 50% of the same amount you heal yourself)

It also got Chaotic Cyclone and Inner Chaos, essentially roided up versions of Decimate and Fell Cleave that always direct crit and they look like Steel Cyclone and Inner Beast

So WAR didn’t change much from SB to ShB and honestly, there is nothing wrong with that. Do I wish it got a few more things to play around with? Absolutely. Do I think WAR is in a bad spot? Hell no. It is amazing on the self mitigation side and its damage, while definitely lower than GNB/PLD and while arguably (depends on what level you are preforming) DRK, is still quite good. Overal, if I had to give an arbitrary number to rate WAR with, I’d give WAR a solid 8/10. Also, as a quick aside, it feels weird to have a cone AoE combo into a player based circle AoE. I’d personally like it if WAR got 2 cone AoEs, though they would’ve had to extend the range of each a bit (around 10 yalms instead of the current 8).

Paladin (PLD): HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! IT IS FINALLY TIME THAT WE’VE BEEN LEGITIMATELY BETTER THAN WAR FOR A COUPLE OF PATCHES! MWAHAHAH- ahem I mean... the shield of the party is up next. PLD, with it being my main in the short while I played HW and the entirety of SB (I’ll get to ShB main at the end), definitely has a soft spot in my heart. But what did PLD actually get?

Well, it got a combo skill from Total Eclipse called Prominence. Prominence also gives MP back when used (only in the combo)

It got an AoE version of Holy Spirit called Holy Circle

It got a gap closer called Intervene, which has 2 charges

It got a system called Sword Oath, which gives you a use of a skill called Atonement. At the moment, the only way to get Sword Oath stacks is to do a full Royal Authority combo and you get 3 stacks of it. Each Atonement hits as hard as the final part of a RA combo (so the actual RA attack)

It also got a fix 2 years in the making in the form of the Enhanced Requiescat passive: when you are under the Requiescat buff, your spell casts are instant. THANK THE LORD!

And last, but certainly not least, it got Confiteor which is an AoE finisher to your Requiescat window

So... let’s talk about PLD. I listed everything that it got from Stormblood to Shadowbringers. While all of this is great, especially the Enhanced Requiescat passive, it also lost pretty heavily. Its personal mitigation feels kind of crappy. Sheltron is great, but unlike the other short cooldown tank cooldowns, it is tied to the Oath Gauge... something that is still tied to auto attacks. Even if it wasn’t tied to auto attacks, the only benefit that it has is that you can use 2 Sheltrons back to back and then you are stuck trying to get it back. Doesn’t help that blocking’s power has been nerfed into the ground, with the highest blocking power still mitigating only 20%. “Only 20%? That’s still a lot!” Yeah, but it just doesn’t feel great. Also, I don’t know who made this decision but I just wanna talk: WHO RENAMED SHIELD OATH TO IRON WILL? I JUST WANNA TALK I PROMISE *prepares to Fell Cleave whoever made that decision*

Anyway, lame jokes aside, overal I’d give PLD around an 9/10 as well with a small note: in its highest highs it is a solid 9.5/10, sometimes even going to a 10/10. In its lowest lows, it is still a 7/10.

Dark Knight (DRK): THE EDGE IS CALLING TONIGHT! DRK is back with a vengeance after what happened to it in SB. The black sheep no more, DRK took a page out of WAR’s book and decided that Delirium needed to be diet Inner Release. So, for the changes/additions to DRKs kit (warning: there is a lot):

firstly, it got Edge of Darkness/Shadow. It is an oGCD single target attack that gives the DRK 30 seconds of Darkside

Darkside is now a buff activated by Edge of Darkness/Shadow and Flood of Darkness/Shadow (which I’ll get to next) that increases the DRKs damage by 10%. It also doesn’t halt MP regeneration anymore, so that’s neat

Flood of Darkness/Shadow is a line AoE oGCD skill that gives the DRK 30 seconds of Darkside

Abyssal Drain is an oGCD skill now that heals the DRK a bit per enemy hit, so the more enemies hit the bigger the heal

Delirium is now a 10 second window where Bloodspiller and Quietus don’t cost any resource. Sound familiar? Yeah, it is basically WAR’s Inner Release

They also get a combo move off Unleash called Stalwart Soul, which gives 20 Blood Gauge and some MP back when combo-ed

Next they get Dark Missionary, an AoE buff that makes the DRK and everyone one arounds the DRK take 10% less magic damage

Last, but certainly not least, they get the coolest skill in the game: Living Shadow. The summon a dark shadow in the shape of our all to familiar DRK quest giver from levels 30 to 50, Fray. It does 7 attacks across the span of 20ish seconds, but a mix of AoE and single target attacks

Also Plunge gets 2 charges, matching it to PLD’s Intervene

Plus, Blood Weapon now no longer increases attack speed (or well, it decreased the GCD so you were attacking quicker)

HOT DAMN DRK! You got a lot of good stuff and I’d probably say that DRK had the biggest upswing out of all the tanks from Stormblood to Shadowbringers. Makes sense since DRK is the poster boy of this expansion. So if I had to rate DRK, I’d say a 8.5/10. The only thing I think is halting DRK is that it doesn’t get Stalwart Soul until 72 and that the Blackest Night is still its level 70 capstone, making synced stuff be kind of painful from time to time. Not as bad as PLD though, which in my opinion might as well be unplayable from levels 68 to 78 because of Requiescat not giving the instant casts yet :(

Gunbreaker (GNB): KABOOM! Squall Leonhart has arrived in XIV and he has come in the form of a tanking job. Funny, both of the popular FF mainline protagonists, Cloud and Squall, are referenced in tanking jobs. Squall more so in GNB than Cloud in DRK, but still. Oh boy, let’s start this. This is gonna be a while and I’ll do it in bullet points since this is an entirely new job instead of changes to an existing job:

GNB has its Solid Barrel combo, which gives a small heal and small shield equal to the heal on the 2nd hit of the combo and it gives 1 cartridge to the GNB on the last hit

Cartridges are used to power 3 abilities: Burst Strike, their version of Fell Cleave, Fated Circle (can you tell this job is inspired by Squall yet), their version of Decimate/Steel Cyclone, and their Gnashing Fang combo

The Gnashing Fang combo is a high powered combo of skills that is on a 30ish seconds cooldown (it goes lower with skill speed). You can use another skill, called Continuation, in between each of the hits of the combo. They are oGCDs that add more damage to the combo

No Mercy is their damage buff. For 20 seconds you get 20% more damage. Simple enough!

Demon Slice is their AoE combo starter, with Demon Slaughter being the skill that combos from it. It also gives a cartridge when properly combo-ed!

Danger Zone is an oGCD that does ST damage. Eventually it gets upgraded into Blasting Zone (CAN YOU TELL THAT THIS JOB IS INSPIRED BY SQUALL) and does more damage

Camouflage is a oGCD skill that gives the GNB 10% mitigation and increases your parry change by 50%

Bow Shock is similar to Circle of Scorn, an oGCD that does AoE damage and gives AoE a damage over time effect

Aurora is a heal over time skill that the GNB can use on themselves or a party member. Has the same eventual potency as Equilibrium from WAR

Superbolide is their invuln skill... with a twist. It gives the GNB 8 seconds of total invulnerability... but puts their HP to 1 first

Sonic Break is a GCD skill that applies a damage over time effect on a 60ish second recast (goes down with skill speed)

Rough Divide is their gap closer and it has 2 charges

Heart of Light is Dark Missionary. Exact same skill

Heart of Stone is an oGCD skill that gives the GNB or one of their party members 15% mitigation. It is on a very short cooldown

Last but not least, it gets Bloodfest (its animation is Squall’s Draw animation from FF8. So again, CAN YOU TELL THAT THIS JOB IS INSPIRED BY SQUALL). Bloodfest gives the GNB 2 cartridges

That... that was a lot, but that was expected since I was describing a completely new job. The next time a tank releases, if it does, I’ll have to do this again... oh boy. Anyway, Squa- I mean GNB is a very interesting tanking job. It has kind of taking DRK’s spot as the fastest tank. Makes sense, since a Gunblade is not nearly as big and heavy as a Greatsword. In reality, GNB is a very fast and fun tank. It is arguably the best designed tank at the moment, though I think something can be said of PLD (though that is strictly speaking on the offense side). Overal, I’d give GNB a 9/10 rating. “WHAT?! AS HIGH AS PLD?!” Ye. It is a really good and fun tank!

Overal: So, in the end, what do we have? Well, the short of it, we got 4 very fun tanks for their own reasons. Even the meh-est of the tanks, WAR, is in my opinion still quite fun to play. So I said I was going to talk about what my main is. Well... I’m still trying the tanks and see what I like the most, but I do still consider myself a PLD main. Kind of doesn’t help that Square gave me almost everything I needed to keep maining PLD. A gap closer, instant cast spells (only during Requiescat but still), a way to reduce the monotony of the 1-2-3 combos, a finisher on the Requiescat window. I’m... in love once more.

The only thing I don’t like about PLD at the moment is how it very much lost its impenetrable wall fantasy. Blocking is now only 20%, still hasn’t scaled and at this point I doubt it will. Sentinel is now the same as Shadow Wall, Vengeance and Nebula: 2 minutes cooldown and 30% mitigation. It feels very weird that the shield tank has the least personal mitigation out of the tanks, plus its utility abilities are... weird. Divine Veil needs to be proc’d via a healing spell and Passage of Arms needs to be actually aimed and either be done somewhat last second or be held, which then makes it a damage loss. Every other tank’s utilities are instantly applied. Also an issue is that the Oath Gauge still doesn’t have a reason to freaking exist. You don’t use it often enough and for enough skills to have it visible. The only reason why I still have it is because it feels weird to not have a job gauge on my HUD for only PLD. I can go on about this stuff for a while, but I still love PLD. I’ll go over a “things I want to see changed for the tanks in the next expansion” thing later. PLD will definitely be the biggest section of that. Anyway, these were my tank impressions for Shadowbringers. Overal, very good expansion for tanking c:

[dpargyle]

Winter of My Discontents

Alright, moving on –

So this is the first day of shit weather this year where I live.  It’s weird – growing up in New York I remember the seasons – but here we only have two – winter and construction.  It goes from 80 to 40 (F) in about a week – so yesterday was 75 and sunny and I could read outside and actually talk to people and today it’s 59 and rainy and cloudy and I just wanna set everything on fire.

I fucking hate it.

Kids – I fucking hate winter.  It glooms over you – and everything goes from bright and outside to monochrome and “fuck you.”  My wheelchair can’t go over the snow and it snows here from like the beginning of November to the middle of April and all of those months here I loathe.  Summer’s ok here but you’re still surrounded by religious lunatics.  

Nobody plows their fucking sidewalk in winter so I have to literally risk my life by driving my wheelchair in the middle of roads with cars in order to cross my own godsdamn street just to get food and now this year

my Dad wants me to come into the office three times a week.  

(So – to explain my work situation – OK – so technically I’m unemployed – and that’s cuz of the stupid fucking government who says like “oh you’re making above this much money as a person in a wheelchair?  Well in that case Medicaid isn’t gonna pay for your attendants to help you get up in the morning and go to bed at night (I’d need to make, like, 25k or so a year to afford that basically)” and also if you save literally one dollar more than $2,000 at one time on all your bank accounts combined we’ll also cut your Medicaid funding for the attendants and very expensive medical equipment (my chair costs 36k every 5 years) as well!” so I’m very much hamstrung by bureaucratic bullshit) –

so in order to get around all this nonsense – I (with the help of my family) am officially unemployed but I live in an apartment that’s technically rented by my Dad’s company – and in return I write and edit (and have been for like 6 years now) an e-magazine about the 3D Printing Industry (I don’t put my name on it though because again, government…) – which is kinda interesting and has allowed me to do both that and focus on my creative work as well – and I also do some freelance writing and one time an artistic thing for the company as well – (that money gets funneled to a bank account the government doesn’t know about) but mostly I’m glad I’ve had these jobs but they’re not…I don’t get excited about them.  I know other people might, but – I’m not one of them hahaha.  I really want to work creatively, but you know…)

In any case, while my Dad does run the main company as CEO he didn’t hire me – it wasn’t his idea – the owner of the company (who has lots of $$$) – after a year of me searching for jobs after college (very unsuccessfully) called me up one day and was like “you’re doing this for us now” and I needed to move out of my folks’ house ASAP so I was like “OK” –

But now my Dad wants me to come in to the office on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays – and I totally understand his reasoning (he’s trying to help me out) – he thinks that if I’m in the office other people there will involve me more in freelance-type work and I’ll be able to earn more $ - and this is probably true – and he also wants me to “get out of your warren” – cuz he knows my brother was basically the only person I interacted with socially in this entire city on any regular basis and now that he’s gone, well….

So my Dad seems to think being social with the other workers or something will be good for me? I mean maybe he’s right but I know everyone in there and they’re all super old and while they’re very nice I don’t have much in common with them and even if I did it’s still super awkward cuz I’m the boss’s son and it’s just awkward – I mean this is part of the reason why my brother left anyway – he worked there for three years but after those three years he was ready to not work at his Dad’s company anymore – and plus he and his wife fuckin hated Utah anyway and I don’t blame them at all I mostly hate it too haahahaha (cries)…

Though if I’m being honest anywhere I’d live I’d probably find all the flaws in real quick…

But maybe somewhere like California where actual things happen and I don’t have to fucking war against winter every year…

Cuz like I’ve tried the work many days a week with a commute in this city – and in summer it’s ok – there’s a very good tram-line system and I’m close to a station (for this purpose) – but in winter…

So for the first year I lived in Salt Lake I was working the magazine job and I was also working at the local Apple Store as well and that winter I literally nearly died commuting cuz I was super tired all the time (my fatigue tolerance level is super low) and dealing with customers and then doing the magazine job and then I was trying to write a book in my free time (it was the first one I wrote and it was complete shit but I’m proud of it cuz it was the first thing I’d ever finished) but I was basically operating at only 15% power and then one night I was on the train platform and there was ice and I slipped off it and half my wheelchair and I fell into the gap between the platform and the train and if that train operator hadn’t seen me he would’ve pulled out of the station and I woulda been warm meat paste…

(I nearly die at least six times a year…)

And that was the night I decided I’d quit that Apple job cuz no job is worth that hellish commute.

Even in subtler ways, though the winter is a killer for me here – there are days when the weather or the pressure changes and my right shoulder (the arm I drive my power wheelchair with) is in so much agony I can hardly move at all – and this lasts 2 or 3 days sometimes 4 –

and then they have these frikken godsforsaken mines here and we’re in this bowl-shaped valley so they mine all this dust into the air and so there’s this inversion here in winter and you can literally visibly see the dust in the air and your throat burns for like four months straight and it’s like the fuckin dust bowl or something god I hate unregulated red states…

And to top it all off, when I travel a lot in the cold my feet rub against my shoes which happened when I commuted to the apple store and by the end of that year I had sores on my heels that took 6 months to heal and in that time one of my best friends from high school died and I couldn’t travel to his funeral because I couldn’t even get out of my door and….I hated myself for that – I’d let him down (again.)

To be honest with you – when I first got offered that job at Apple I was so proud and happy and excited – I’d been looking for a job for a year after college and I looked everywhere – all over the world – in every industry I could think of – and there was just nothing.  Nobody even offered me an interview before they did – and I have self-esteem issues anyway so I started thinking – like – is it cuz I’m in a wheelchair?  Is that why nobody wants me?  (I really have issues dealing with any kind of rejection because of this…)

But then Apple came along and said “Yes!”  And I was like OMG this is amazing – I’m doing retail but it’s gonna be in an interesting (kind of) industry and I’m gonna work with young peeps like me and I’m gonna do creative stuff in my free time and slowly work my way up the ladder and I’m still young I got tons of time to do everything and be everywhere I wanna be going…and then the month before I had the job orientation with Apple my old high school friend had the sudden accident which would lead to his passing a few months later – and….nothing mattered like it had anymore…

He was hovering between life and death all the way in New York and I was in Utah doing…what? Selling expensive crap to rich Mormons? Nothing made sense anymore.  For six years before that point I’d been an insufferable evangelical Christian zealot – and although for two years my faith had been wavering due to me beginning to question its draconian teachings – at that point I still had it – but then this happened and very quickly what little faith I’d been holding onto died with my friend.  

I’m glad I’ve grown in my empathy and inclusiveness since then – but on the other hand, I feel I’ve lost something…

And then a month after my friend’s accident I had to present myself to Apple and be an enthusiastic team player filled with evangelism for the products and I just…I couldn’t do it…I remember that week so vividly too cuz that was the week George Lucas sold Lucasfilm to Disney and they announced they were doing MORE STAR WARS and I was like holy fuck that’s what I wanna do – maybe not necessarily Star Wars (though !!!) – but telling stories and weaving myths – and making a thing that MATTERED to people – that moved them and shook them and changed them and nourished them and gave them some godsdamned fucking hope in this unjust world…

But I was stuck here in Utah…

So I started writing that book and I pushed myself so incredibly hard cuz literally by that point it was the only thing that mattered to me and made sense – feeling like I’d been put on this Earth to make art and I wasn’t gonna waste anymore time because maybe I didn’t have anymore time, you know?

And like I couldn’t connect with my coworkers – they were my age but many of them were Mormons with whole families they were supporting and most of the rest (save for my good friend @soundscomplicated) – I just…it was hard to connect to.  In college I’d been surrounded by interesting people who challenged my brain and soul parts (at least sometimes – though academia drove me nuts) …but now….now I was stuck in the wasteland with no way out…

I finished the book and it was crap but at least I’d done something.  Then I made that personal safety decision to quit Apple and for the last four years I’ve been working from home…

And this past year or so I finally began to put it all together again maybe – my drawing skills were improving – I was writing another book that scared the crap outta me (but that was a good thing) – about a group of nerds who lost someone close to them and whose worlds were turned upside down as a result – where the protagonist was a kid in a wheelchair like me and for the first time I felt like I was writing something IMPORTANT that MATTERED that might move people – letting out all my pain and hope and regret and love -

But then I sent it out to potential agents and waited and waited and waited for months and months and literally none of them even sent me a solid rejection.  It was all just nothingness into the void.  I understand they get so many submissions though so I tried not to take it personally –

And I decided this story and these words that I’d finished were important enough for me to publish on Amazon – so I did – and it was one of the proudest moments of my life (this was back in April or so) but then – nobody bought it.  And it’s not like I expected to make out like gangbusters – I don’t know anything about marketing or being social media savvy (I mean just witness the godsdamned length of this friggen post hahaha) – but I thought at least everyone in my extended family would buy it – but nope. It sold like 11 copies.  Let’s just say I will love those 11 people forever but I just…

Like I’d killed myself over this fucking book.  I went down into the deepest parts of my soul and ripped them out for all the world to see – I didn’t do anything but this book.  I did my paying work for the company but hanging out with people other than my brother sometimes?  I didn’t have time.  I didn’t have the energy.

In the flesh connections are so hard and when you’re working on something you truly believe in – well – you feel compelled to WORK WORK WORK and where was I gonna meet people here anyway?  

This story mattered more than my own happiness.

And now that it hasn’t done well?  What was it all for?  Really? It’s not that I’m not totally effing proud of what came out – I am – probably more than any other art I’ve ever made – but…I dunno I guess I just have delusions of grandeur for myself…sometimes I feel like if I’m not Shakespeare – if I can’t support myself with my art – I’m a failure.  

I’ve failed.  My life has been a waste!

And then I sit back and I try to remind myself that’s an incredibly toxic and terrible way of thinking but at this point I literally can’t help it…

I don’t know what to work on next creatively.  And now I’m having to spend more time away from my creative stuff and I don’t want to – I really don’t give a shit about the meager extra money I’m gonna get by going into the office – I want those hours I’m gonna waste there back!  I don’t want to spend more hours not doing what I was born on this earth to do.

That probably sounds super privileged of me and I’m lucky to be where I am and blah blah blah but I just……and when the winter really comes and there’s snow on the ground I literally will not be able to go to the office (or even leave my apartment easily for that matter) and my Dad understands that – but I just…

Maybe I just don’t want to do that stuff anymore?  I’m probably coming across as a super lazy and ungrateful person – and I am, but…

I just don’t have many friends here anyway and spending energy on commuting is just not gonna help that at all and I see no way out and I’m literally crying as I type this and I want OUT OUT OUT so bad but I don’t know what that means or what that looks like and I am cold and scared and lonely and tired and

For the past month it’s been warm and sunny and I’ve had Blondie to distract me from all this pain and mounting mediocrity and it’s been nice cuz I haven’t really had a crush in the flesh since college – like literally the last girl I allowed myself to fall for is now married with two kids hahaha and that night I got my head stuck in the fridge and I didn’t say this in the original post but

I was literally kind of sobbing because my brother was leaving (he’s gone now) and I don’t have many good friends (especially here) and my book I cared so much about fucking crashed and burned and I put my fucking soul into that thing and it wasn’t good enough I’M NEVER GOOD ENOUGH and then my chair crapped out and I was about to die and I cried for like an hour (I haven’t cried like that in like seven years – since before my friend died) but then I stopped crying cuz Leia’s Theme came on my shuffle and it gave me some hope so instead of crying I was yelling and then somebody busted open my front door

And she was literally an angel and just sweet and all my everything just washed away and everything was OK but now – it’s just – that distraction is fading away and I am facing my reality and…

As with every winter here, I am growing restless…

[yahoo-puck-daddy-blog]

Puck Daddy Countdown: Voynov, Blue Jackets and a potential Kessel trade

Slava Voynoy is a scumbag and shouldn’t be allowed back in the league. (Photo by Juan Ocampo/NHLI via Getty Images)

8. Bringing back Slava Voynov

If you’re an NHL GM and you’re thinking about bringing back a solid No. 2 defenseman who got kicked out of the country for assaulting his wife, here’s some advice: Walk into traffic instead.

For all of hockey’s talk about Being Good In The Room and Having Character Guys, the fact that this is even being discussed is sad and upsetting, but not particularly surprising.

I mean look, the league itself is currently passing the buck on the Ottawa Senators’ assistant GM getting an order of protection served against him because he allegedly did some very gross stuff toward a hotel employee (and it might not even be the most drama-y story coming out of the Sens organization this week; things are going great up there). The idea that they’d allow a path back for Voynov, who should be viewed as an irredeemable piece of garbage within the sport, totally sucks.

Hopefully everyone smartens up here, but if the immigration issue weren’t an issue at all here, you can say for sure he’d have been back in the league well before now.

The league loves to talk a big game about inclusivity, but that apparently entails including domestic abusers.

7. Oliver Ekman-Larsson

Yeah one of OEL’s top skills as a borderline-elite defenseman is his decision-making. Off the ice? Not so much. I don’t care that the Coyotes are reportedly giving him the captaincy, $8.25 million for eight years plus a no-move. Why would you commit to staying with that franchise?

This is likely to be a Jarome Iginla-level waste of a career. What a bummer.

6. Hard decisions

It was pointed out on The Athletic yesterday that the Blue Jackets may soon face some seriously tough personnel decisions.

This summer they need to re-sign RFAs Boone Jenner, Oliver Bjorkstrand and Ryan Murray, who might cost them a little bit (Jenner in particular) but aren’t likely to break the bank. They will have no such luxury next summer.

Sergei Bobrovsky will need a new contract and probably expect a raise from his $7.425 million cap hit.

Artemi Panarin will need a new contract and you can guarantee right now he’s gonna pull $8 million.

Zach Werenski will need a new contract and he’s a future No. 1 D if he isn’t one already, and those aren’t cheap.

Columbus has relatively few cap commitments for 2019-20 and even if you err on the expensive side of their current RFAs, they’re probably not going to have more than $50 million locked in. That gives them, potentially, a few dozen million dollars to mess with. They can, conceivably, add all these guys and dip into some bargain options or ELC guys to fill the gaps.

Nonetheless, as much as the team would never root for its players to do badly, every Panarin primary point, Bobrovsky 30-of-31 performance, and exemplary Werenski shift ticks that cap number up just a little bit higher. Which is what makes having, say, Nick Foligno and Brandon Dubinsky and David Savard on too-big contracts a bigger issue than it is currently. Potentially much bigger.

This is a team on the rise, but they might have to start making harder decisions soon, and that’s no fun.

5. That rumored Jack Johnson contract

One contract Columbus won’t have to worry about? They’re not gonna bring back frequent healthy scratch Jack Johnson, in no small part because Bob McKenzie said yesterday that he’s expected to pull a $6 million AAV this summer, and hilariously, the Canadiens might be the team to give it to him if their rumored interest pans out.

Imagine thinking in the year of our lord two thousand eighteen that Jack Johnson is anything other than the McKenzie tweet about Deryk Engelland. “That’s per year.” If you wanna give Jack Johnson two years and $3 million AAV or three years and $2 million AAV, I mean, there are probably better options but you’re not making a huge mistake. If you give him $6 million for any non-zero number of years, you’re giving out one of the worst contracts in the league that you’re gonna have to buy out in like three seasons.

All of which could have been avoided if GMs weren’t compelled to just give out the dumbest contracts imaginable because they have the cap space.

4. Phil Kessel maybe

Turns out that rumored rift between Mike Sullivan and Phil Kessel, which may or may not relate to how Kessel feels like he “should be” coached, might not be a rift at all.

Of course, it’s hard to pull off trading a guy making Kessel’s money at Kessel’s age even after he put up 90-plus points. But nonetheless, if you’re like, “He’s a coach’s nightmare!!!!” it’s also a good kind of nightmare to have because he put up 90-plus damn points.

Plus, it’s kind of in Jim Rutherford’s best interest to say, “Ah we love the player! He might have had a disagreement with the coach but no one is mad! In fact, they’re laughing.” Especially because he added the classic, “But if someone made me a good offer dot dot dot.”

So I dunno, that’s something to keep an eye on, especially because it seems like all this cap space has a huge percentage of the GMs league-wide geeked up to do a million trades. The next couple weeks are gonna rule.

3. Draft prep

This is my time of year, baby! Ask me about Brady Tkachuk’s relative 5v5 HQCF%!!!!!!!!! (It’s insanely good.)

2. Adding Ilya Kovalchuk?

Coming to a team near you on July 1: The third-leading all-time scorer in the KHL.

A ton of teams understandably have heavy interest in a winger as good as Kovalchuk, with maybe the most intriguing being Boston (assuming they move on from Rick Nash). But here’s one that doesn’t make a lot of sense, though: Detroit.

Why in the world would the Red Wings look at this guy and think, “This is someone we need to add,” y’know?

Like, okay, Kovalchuk’s stated goal is to actually win a Stanley Cup, and while you hear that kind of talk a lot before a guy signs with I dunno, Ottawa or something, you kinda get the feeling that’s actually Kovalchuk’s goal, actually. After all, why come back to the NHL at age 35, from what is assuredly a lucrative career in his home country, to pull like $6 million before taxes?

Based on his overall record as a player — point a game in 800-plus NHL games, well above that in almost 300 KHL games, a Rocket Richard, two Gagarin Cups, gold at U-18s, the world championships and the Olympics — anyone can see he’s at least a borderline Hall of Fame case. You get a Cup? Or even get close? That’s probably going to be worth a lot for the voters.

But to circle back to the Detroit thing: Why would the Red Wings want to add this guy? Leaving aside a reasonable lack of interest on the player’s part, this team should be rebuilding, doesn’t need to add salary to meet the cap floor, and doesn’t seem like any sort of team that could reasonably claim to push Kovalchuk toward anything resembling a Stanley Cup.

1. Getting plastered

The best thing I saw from the Caps’ parade after a nice, long weekend of getting falling-down drunk? It’s definitely this:

Someone asked Nicklas Backstrom if he's had enough partying. "It just started," Backstrom said.

— Stephen Whyno (@SWhyno) June 12, 2018

(Not ranked this week: Bashing Ovechkin still, somehow.

The good news is that I haven’t seen many anti-Ovechkin takes. The bad news is that I saw any. Get lost with the negativity!)

—

Ryan Lambert is a Puck Daddy columnist. His email is here and his Twitter is here.

(All statistics via Corsica unless otherwise noted.)