#so external saving like a boss

[skzdarlings]

i do ; skz ; felix x reader

requested by anonymous: ' I would love if you could use these prompts...on Felix x fem reader:❛ i love that no one else has seen you like this, that no one else has felt you before, been inside you. they don't get to have you, but i do. ❜❛ you're mine. you've always been mine. ❜I love possessive Felix, istg i would give amything to have him' plus two anonymous requests for: 'i'd say you need someone to put you in your place' for felix.

pairing: lee felix/reader content info: look this request was for possessive!felix and so possessive!felix i delivered. he is a little weirdo in this tbh. but i think after all my anti-rich-guy stories, i have earned the right for one problematic possessive mafia boss who throws his money and his dick around hahaha. so yes, possessive!felix, virgin!reader, wedding night, arranged marriage, felix being a criminal boss, insta-love. reader's backstory involves a verbally abusive/neglectful family. explicit sexual content. word count: 4000 words.

masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.

enjoy <3

-

Your new husband is astoundingly pretty.   You expected a different face to be waiting at the end of the wedding aisle: harsh, old, scarred.  Maybe, if you let yourself fantasize, he would be handsome in a rugged way. 

You were not expecting Felix.  Slender, delicate Felix with his high cheekbones and freckles, his dark eyes and feather-soft blonde hair.  He smiled a dimpled smile as your father surrendered your hand. 

That surrender was a visual representation of a literal transaction.  You were a bartering tool to save your father’s business.  You knew an arranged marriage was inevitable when a few trades went sour and the company went bankrupt.  The family could only maintain relevancy and safety through a match to someone more powerful. 

Lee Felix is the heir to a very dirty criminal syndicate that blends in high society.  Everyone knows their money is blood-spattered, but they throw a good party and the jewels sparkle the same.

You knew his name long before the wedding.  Of course you knew his name.  But you did not know his face.  You expected a devil, not a vision of divinity, resplendent in white and gold. 

Your heart has not stopped racing since he first lifted your veil and kissed you with lips softer and gentler than your grandest fantasies. 

Now you are perched on a lavish bed in a beautiful penthouse suite.  The walls are windows, externally tinted but offering you a glorious view of the glittering cityscape at night.  You wonder how much of the city your new husband owns. 

Would that be an impertinent question?  It is not as though there is any real charade to play; this is not a love match and there is no sense pretending otherwise.  Enquiring after financial assets is arguably appropriate insofar as business goes. 

Then the door opens and your new husband enters.  All thoughts of business flitter into nothing, an insignificant detail next to your wedding night.  A night with this powerful and beautiful stranger.

“Are you nervous?” he asks in a voice so deep it keeps surprising you.  It suits his angelic appearance in a way, something so captivating about its low tones, effortlessly melodic.  But that melody is coloured darkly in its depth, scratching a shiver up your spine.  When he speaks, it feels like he is trailing his fingers up your back in a curious, searching touch. 

He looks at you with as much depth, dark eyes penetrating as he circles the bed.  He has been nothing but polite, but you can’t help but feel like prey being circled by a predator. 

Even more concerning, you can’t help but like it.  Since the moment he took your hand, his eyes have not left you.  It is almost overwhelming.  You have been invisible your whole life.  No one ever looked at you.  No one ever wanted you.  Your father scared off anyone who tried. 

Felix is not just anyone.  Anyone sensible would be scared of him.

You are also not just anyone. 

“No,” you answer.

“Really?”  He lifts a curious eyebrow. 

You are both in your wedding clothes, all white and gold.  Your veil is draped over a chair in the corner.  He puts his coat there too. 

He never looks away from you, rolling his shirtsleeves up his forearms as he approaches the bed.

“May I ask, why not?” he asks.  It’s a funny question, so polite but only posed because he knows his own reputation.  He knows what you must think of him.  The bloodshed, the ruthlessness, the merciless command he holds over his family’s legacy.  He might look unassuming, but he is not to be trifled with.  That gentle exterior could be unnerving to some people, even more than an outward brute. 

But you have dealt with those brutes your whole life.  An abusive father, cruel brother, an uncaring mother.  Hurt, neglected, ignored. 

Tonight, while you circled the reception to greet everyone, your father and brother pulled you aside.  Your mother had already berated you on the details of your appearance, but they were reprimanding you for every other misstep.

You almost burst into tears, tired and frightened.  You were so afraid you would never escape them.  Even at your wedding, on the cusp of a new life, they were dragging you around, kicking and screaming.

Then you felt a tap on your shoulder.  Bang Chan, one of Felix’s most trusted agents, stood there with a forced but cordial smile.  He looked at you and not your family. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” he said.  “Your husband is asking for you.  Please, come with me.”

Your father sputtered indignantly, unaccustomed to such blatant disrespect for his authority.  Chan said nothing to him, simply offered you his arm.  He also opened his jacket to flash the gun in his chest holster.  Your family had their weapons stripped before entering the reception.  It was a subtle reminder of who was really in charge. 

So your father and brother were left sputtering helplessly as Chan escorted you across the room.  Felix was sitting with some of his men, smiling his bright smile and looking like any happy young groom. 

That sunny face faltered when he saw your morose expression.  His glance passed to your family, a flicker of anger in his gaze.  Then he smiled at you and held out a welcoming arm. 

“Come here,” he said.  “Sit with me a bit.  Please.” That deep voice.  You felt it like a touch inside you. He had recited the scripted vows earlier.  This invitation was his first real address. 

You nodded.  Your legs were shaky from the confrontation, never mind the wobble from your heels.  Your feet hurt.  Sitting would be a relief if nothing else. 

There was an empty seat behind Felix.  It was the type of seat you were usually given: at the back where you could be forgotten. 

Once you were within reach, Felix grabbed you around the waist.  Your breath caught as you stumbled towards him.  He caught you and held you.  Then you were sitting in his lap, your dress draped everywhere, a glittering ivory prize perched safe and pretty on his knee.  He wrapped a possessive arm around your middle. 

It was more than a power play.  It was one thing to put you on his lap and show your family that he owned you now, but it was another for him to frown as he touched the painfully tight pearl belt around your waist. 

“Why is this so tight?” he asked, looking at you with concern.     

“I’m sorry,” you said automatically, in the habit of grovelling whenever someone took a disappointed tone.  “My mother,” you spoke softly, not wanting the rest of the table to hear. 

He leaned closer to you, offering you his ear directly.  A whisper was all you managed, unaccustomed to such attention.

“They’re real pearls,” you whispered.  “Very expensive.  Very fine.  Too fine for me.  My mother had the belt made small so I would remember to act worthy of them.  Sit straight.  Not over-eat.  You know.”

He frowned, his brow furrowing.  Instinct compelled you to soothe that displeasure, laughing like you were not upset.

“It’s all right,” you said.  “She’s right.  They are very fine pearls.”

“It’s not all right,” Felix said.  He looked at you, held your gaze in his own.  You found yourself counting his freckles.  “Do you like it?” he asked. 

Maybe it was his display of power.  Maybe it was his arm around you.  Maybe it was the freckles.  He looked so sweet, so sincere.  You could not bring yourself to lie.  Though you had defended your cruel family all your life, the truth fell from your lips in a rough exhale. 

“No.”  You felt tears in your eyes.  “I know it’s expensive.  I know it’s beautiful.  But I’ve never hated anything more.” 

He held your gaze, your watery eyes in the dark depths of his own.

Then he grabbed the belt by a thin material strand and yanked.  A couple pearls popped right off and scattered.  The rest dangled on the belt, an absurd amount of wealth in his hand. 

Felix tossed it over his shoulder like it was garbage. Then he wrapped his arm around your waist and held you against him. 

You chanced a look at your family.  They were scandalized.  Horrified.  And you breathed easier for the first time in a long time. You have long suffered the oppressive strangle of control masquerading as love.  His protective arm felt nothing like that pearl belt.

So you look at him now.  You strive to articulate all these feelings.  You are not used to speaking and having someone listen. 

“I can’t explain it,” you say.  “Maybe it’s foolish.  But I… I just feel like I was meant to be here.  With you.  Like this.”

Your heart jumps at his expression, a luminous pleasure that brightens this dimly lit room. 

“That’s funny,” he says.  “I feel the same way.”

You swallow as he sits beside you.  Slowly, touch by touch, breath by breath, he is bringing your bodies together.  His knee touches yours, his arm your arm.  He folds his hands in his lap but he is close enough you can count his freckles again. 

“I need to be honest with you,” he says.  “I’ve wanted you since I first saw you.  A year ago.  At the winter masquerade.”

You look at him with surprise.  All at once, his eyes come back to you, gazing at you behind a golden bird mask at the annual winter social.  You couldn’t place the handsome stranger at the time.  His hair was dark then, his face in a mask.  He did not speak.  His distinctive voice would have given him away. 

He danced one dance with you, the only person who danced with you all night.  You were later reprimanded for behaving like a slut, even though he touched your waist and nothing more.

“You were very kind,” he says.  “I watched you with the staff.  You were the only one in that whole room to say please and thank you to them – did you know that?”  He sighs and looks away, thoughts travelling beyond this room.  “I came from nothing,” he says.  “My family… we fought to get where we are now.  But I remember, you know.  What it feels like to be the smallest and least important person in the room.”

You sit straighter when he looks at you.  Oh, your heart has not slowed its thunder.  Excitement and affection swirl together in a motley tempest of sensation, touched by his words and yearning for more.  You thought you had been sold to an uncaring bidder, but Felix touches you slowly, like he would a very fine work of art.  His knuckles caress your cheek, the slope of your jaw. 

“I thought…” He looks at you reverently.  “I thought… I would do anything to preserve that goodness.  I would protect it.  Like your family wasn’t.”  His brow furrows now, a shadow of his face.  “They would have ruined you.” 

His hand continues, knuckles skimming down your throat, your shoulder, your arm.  You shiver.   He has a terrible scar, scoring the whole back of his hand.  A stark difference to your unblemished hand, your manicured nails against his calloused fingers. 

He says, “I know what it’s like to be ruined.”

You look from your hands to his face, his handsome profile, the slope of his nose and his soft lips.  He is still looking at your joined hands. 

“I wasn’t always like this,” he says.  “I’d give anything to have my innocence back.  But I can’t.”

He lifts your hand, cradles it between both of his like something precious.  Your breath catches when he kisses your palm, lips soft against your skin.  

“So I told myself, I would do anything to save yours,” he says.  He looks almost… afraid.  An expression you never expected to see on this man.   “So I destroyed your father’s business,” he says.  “It was all me.  I knew he would never give you to a man like me unless he had no choice.  He would have given you away to one of his friends and they would have broken you.  But you were already mine.  So I left him no choice but to see things my way.” 

“Oh,” you say, surprised beyond all words. 

“I wanted you to know before anything… happens… between us,” he says.  “But I understand if your feeling are complicated.  Or if you… fear me.”

Your father has often boasted how many men fear him.  It does not sound like a boast from Felix, rather something lamentable.  His face is shadowed in shame. 

“My feelings are not complicated,” you say.  He is still holding your hand in both of his.  You lay your other hand there, a complete joining. 

He meets your gaze, an intense and imploring stare.

“I’m not my father’s daughter anymore,” you say.  “I’m my husband’s wife.  My loyalty is to you.  My place is with you.”

“Yes,” he says, spoken on a breath.  His smile returns.  “Your place.  I’d say you need someone to put you in your place.  Your rightful place.” 

He springs off the bed like there is lightning under his feet.  He is all smiles and sunlight again, a beacon in the blue dark of this room.  You cannot help but bask in his warmth, bereft in the chill when he leaves your side. 

He takes something from his discarded coat pocket, a case swathed in velvet, soft to the touch.  You hold it, admiring the texture.

He kneels behind you on the bed while you open it.   Inside is the most breathtaking necklace you have ever seen in your life.  When you lift it, the chain is long, designed to sit low, loose around your neck.  No more chokers.  No more pearls. 

“Oh, Felix,” you say, breathless and amazed, then very embarrassed.  You are not used to such lovely gifts.  Even the pearls were a punishment.  “I can’t accept this…” you say, stunned.

“You can,” he says. 

He takes the clasp then strings the necklace around you.  His fingers on the nape of your neck have you shivering.  The necklace clasps in place, then his lips are on your neck, a chaste press that nonetheless lights fire under your skin.  “It was made for you,” he says.  “Like you were made for me.” 

He takes the zipper of your gown between two careful fingers, so slowly lowering it.  It feels like you are unravelling with it.  The zipper reaches the base of your spine and his fingertips dance across your bare skin. 

He steps off the bed.  He looks down at you, his eyes intense but his smile soft.  He touches your cheek, strokes his thumb across it lovingly. 

Then he is sinking to his knees in front of you.  You already feel weak as jelly, but your whole body goes soft and pliant when he gently grasps your ankle, when he slides your painful shoe off your foot and tosses it aside.  He somehow finds every sore spot and rubs it better. 

“This is how it works,” he says.  He is on his knees but somehow his presence looms bigger than you.  You cannot look away from the thrall of his gaze.  “You are my wife.  And when we are out there, I am your servant.”  He takes your other foot and removes that shoe as well.  He massages you gently.  “I will never deny you anything,” he says.  “You can ask me for anything. All right?  I will give you the whole world.  I will give you my whole heart.  In return, I only want one thing.”

“What’s that?” you ask, already breathless.

“I am your husband,” he says, “and in here, you are my servant.  Only I can touch you.  Only I will have you.  All of you.  In every way.  Always, starting from today.  Starting from right now.”    

“Yes.  Yes.  But I – I’ve never done this before,” you say, aching to surrender but fearful he will regret this.  Though you are knowledgeable, you are lacking in experience from years of isolation.  “I’ve been alone for so long,” you say.  “I don’t want to disappoint you.” 

“You don’t,” he says.  He lifts your leg, swoops down to kiss your calf, then higher: your knee, your thigh.  “You could never,” he says, guiding your leg to rest on his shoulder.  He gathers the volume of your wedding dress in his hands and pushes it up, up. 

You almost forget to breathe.  He kisses higher on your thigh.  Then he grabs the thin material of your white tights and rips them open.

“You’re mine,” he says.  “You’ve always been mine.” 

You fall back on your elbows, limbs already quivering as he tears through your underclothes as if impatiently ripping open a prettily wrapped gift.   With your expensive lace panties shredded and your tights in tatters, he pushes your skirts up and out of his way.  You hold them while he kisses up your thigh.  He runs his tongue along the seam between your thigh and somewhere much more sensitive. 

“No one else has done this to you?” he asks.  He already looks flushed.  Desperate.      

“No,” you answer.  You swallow hard.  “Never.”  You know some men do not enjoy providing this type of pleasure to their wives, so you are about to tell him that you have no expectations in that regard—

But then he is on you like a starving man, eyes closed and mouth open and licking through all that wet desire.  You fall on your back, pressing your heel into his back.  He groans, pressing deeper, tongue seeking, swiping, stroking. 

He grips your thighs possessively, holding you in place as he ravages you with his mouth.  He takes you up and over a blissful crest.  It leaves you a drenched and panting mess. 

He stands, wiping his arm across his wet mouth.  He does not look satisfied, eyes still hungry as he climbs on top of you. 

“My wife,” he says, like the word is sacred and impossible, like he thought a man like him could never say it.  “All mine,” he says, running his hands up your thighs, up your waist, touching every inch of you until he is cradling your face delicately in his careful but calloused hands.   

It makes your whole body clench up tightly, your breath stuttering as he kisses you.  You melt into the kiss, so different from the chaste peck of your ceremony.  It is a claiming kiss, the taste of you still on his lips, his moan in your mouth, his chest against yours as those sounds of pleasure rumble through him. 

He tugs down your bodice, then he is ripping through your underclothes again.   When your bodice is around your waist and your chest is bare except for his necklace, you find yourself covering your breasts instinctively.  He takes your hands, not forcefully but firmly, holding your gaze.  His mouth is already so pink and raw from kissing.  You wonder if you look as ravished.  Maybe more.  It makes you whimper, surrendering when he pins your hands on either side of your head. 

“This is mine,” he says, kissing your jaw, your throat, then lower.  “All mine, sweetheart.”

He wraps his lips around a pointed nipple and you feel the reaction between your legs, as if connected by a thread.  Your legs try to close around his hips but he presses down.  The crumpled skirt of your dress is between you, but he feels your thighs clenching, feels you desperately bucking. 

Even his chuckle is a deep sound.  He smiles at you, batting his eyelashes as he licks the curve of your breast.  Your whole body twitches again. 

“Mm,” he says.  “You feel that?  You getting all tight… and hot… just for me…”

“Felix,” you say, you beg.

He sits back on his heels to get your wedding dress off.  It is a flurry of ivory and silk, earning some laughter, then it is gone and your husband is staring down at you.   Again, you feel like prey, like a meal spread out helplessly for some predatory creature.  Again, you like it. 

He is just as impatient with his own clothes.  He does not look away from you while tearing his shirt open.  Buttons fly, forgotten, and he rips the material down his arms and off.  His belt is next, leather whistling through the air then joining the heap on the floor.  He grabs your hand and guides it to the hard shape in his white pants, groaning deep in his chest as your palm curves around it. 

You are so captivated him, by the way he feels, by the sounds he makes, that you are surprised when he touches you too.  Your legs part instinctively, then your thighs twitch to close when you are embarrassed by your eagerness. 

“Don’t be shy,” he says.  “Not with me.” His fingers feel divine inside you, gliding as if through silk, pressing at your walls and making you whimper.  “Yeah, my baby.  So nice… ‘n wet… for me…” he murmurs, more to himself than you. It still makes you clench, like your body wants him deeper, pulling tight around him.   “God.  Perfect.” 

“Aren’t we g-gonna—”  Your eyes drop to his waistband, then up to his eyes again. 

He smiles, laughs, and withdraws his fingers slowly. 

“Oh yeah, sweetheart,” he says, unbuttoning his pants.  “We are.  Be patient.  You’re gonna enjoy this.  Gonna remember this night forever.”  He leans down so his body is over yours.  He kisses you, presses you into the pillows.  When he pulls back, he traces a finger along the necklace, smiling brightly. “The first time I made you mine,” he says, speaking low and soft against your lips.   “I’m going to do everything with you,” he says.  “And you’re gonna want it.  All of it and more.” 

He has you begging for more already.  When he finally is pushing inside you, after so much torturous build-up, you are a breathless, sweaty tangle of limbs.  It feels like he is pinning you to the mattress, taking you so deep and so hard, like your whole body is changing to fit him.   There is a long, slow burn, but you are so wet and he is so careful; it is an ache that gives way to pleasure. 

His arms are around you, holding him above you, making you feel so completely shielded and enveloped.  He starts a slow pace that turns more frantic.  Your hands move all over his chest and shoulders to find a grip. 

“I love that no one else has seen you like this,” he says, grabbing your searching hand.  He brings it to his mouth, kisses your palm, your fingers.  He puts your hand on his shoulder, then he slides his hand under your head to cup your neck, holding you steady while he rolls his hips into yours.  “That no one else has felt you before,” he says.  “Been inside you. They don't get to have you, but I do.“

“Yes,” you say.  “Always.  My husband.” 

“Mm.”  He drops his forehead to yours.  “My wife.” 

You come again but it feels different, starting deep inside you and rolling outward, a full-body spasm that has you crying out his name.  He comes too, holding you against him, his lips on your neck as he says your name. 

Then he kisses you.  Then he lays you down.  He wraps you in his arms and squeezes. 

“Sleep for now,” he says.  “It’s been a long day.  And I want you again.”

“You have me,” you say, nestling in his arms, your head under his chin. 

“Yes,” he says with a smile.  He looks so sweet even while his wicked hands hold your body in a strong, possessive grip.  “I do.”      

[my-fancy-hat]

denji's progression is backwards, not in the sense he's unlearning his development but literally regressing to the womb. early part 2 was his crowning moment, displayment of an autonomous person living his life ahead, moving foward in a clear road alongside his new family, a girlfriend, graduating and a job are his goals ahead. as the story progresses external forces make denji start doubting his place in his world and bluring his boundaries, so things like SA start happening again, and other people are to decide how denji must live. this is followed by the textual destruction of his complete identity, csm, denji and a man, toyed around as an idol and bringed back by external forces once again. but denji comes back to the past figuratelly, put into his childhood clothes and a yakuza (his ex-boss' grandson) is there to torture him like old times. the epitome of the progression once existed, after everything denji went through in part 1, was nayuta's birth, result of the transmutation of his pain and failure as an idol/son/lover to this newborn daughter/sibling. but story repeats itself, his family gets killed and the new control devil is eaten, everything comes back to zero. denji wasn't capable of fulfilling his part of the contract, so pochita takes control over his body and fights to keep him alive. denji right now is dead, pochita is the womb carrying the corpse, death and birth.

unfortunerally for this part, power came back to save denji and their friendship inspired him keep on living, but i can't see an equivalent of her role in the story right now. Denji has never been this lonely in his life, so i'm expectant of how things will go from here.

[lawofangie]

Hello. I just saw your post about your manifestation journey while struggling with depression and I’ll probably just be another rant about “how difficult it is to manifest”, but honestly I just want to talk a little bit.

I’m at work right now. I’m a trainee in a law office and my relationship with my boss is deteriorating gradually.

While I was at school, I would always think that I would be happier at a job, because I like to feel useful and competent. But now that I have a job, I just feel miserable.

I already received complaints twice about “being distracted” and “not doing my best”, which came as shocking because I’ve been doing my best. I have two bosses and while one looks like she really appreciates me, the other one might be the contrary.

I always fails to do what she wants me to do.

So I have been having really tiresome dreams. I had one where they asked me to type a document and after a while it turns out it was a “you are fired document” and asked me to sigh it.

They laughed and said that “I wasn’t doing enough” and “I wasn’t attending my classes at college” which I WAS but it didn’t matter.

I actually can’t imagine my life better. It’s like my mind just blocks it from me. I feel like I can’t delude myself even if that’s what I want the most.

I really want to just escape and live happily but I just feel trapped and miserable. I think I can predict what you are going to advice me but…I just don’t know what to do. I’m scared.

this is actually kind of relatable. i've felt similarly at many points in my life, i struggled to function, i thought external things would make me happy, applying the law was difficult. i couldn't imagine my life any better either. i understand where this is coming from, i'll try to give less generic advice, but i'm going to be brutally honest, and, this still won't be anything special. its important to remember that regardless of what i say here, manifestation is still just assuming you have your desire and persisting in that fact.

anyways, it honestly gets to a point where you have to realize that you're just wasting your time feeling trapped and scared. you're doing yourself a disservice. no one and nothing can save you, nor is anything or anyone going to. as unfortunate as your circumstances are, you have to do it yourself.

you have to take what you want and prioritize that above how you feel, anyone's made you feel, and how anyone feels about you. your life is meant to revolve around you and no one else. its YOUR life for a reason.

you SHOULD NOT waste the best years of your life being miserable, feeling like a failure, like a victim, like you can't change, like you're trapped like this forever when that's completely illogical. everyone and everything changes. people change in age, appearance, personality, sexuality, preferences, etc. it's physically impossible to be incapable of change unless you're not alive. people change all the time.

you genuinely do not have the time to be so self loathing and miserable, not when you're going to literally grow old one day. and according to those who've made it there already, that day comes fast. do you want to look back at your life at 80 and see what you wasted it doing? when all this information was right in your face? when all you had to do was take a chance and have some faith in yourself?

changing yourself isn't impossible, you're just too scared to assume anything good about yourself, perhaps because you've gotten so used to being miserable. "changing yourself", by the way, just so we're clear, simply means to assume something new about yourself. for example, you already believe you are a failure, and to change would be to simply assume you're successful. that's quite literally it. you just believe in something without physical proof, that's assuming. we assume all the time. you're just assuming about yourself now. the law is extremely simple to utilize, but it's the simplicity that leads to people overcomplicating it themselves.

also, delusion is, by definition, a false belief that is resistant to change, even when presented with evidence that it is not true. an assumption, by definition, is a belief that is taken as true without proof or evidence. you need to realize the difference here. we are telling you to assume, not to delude yourself. we are promising you that the "proof" comes after you've fully accepted it as true. we're not telling you to actively deny something despite accepting it as true. what would be the point in that? if we're telling you that your assumptions, aka the things you believe to be true without proof manifest, why would we tell you to continue to accept something you don't want as true? does that make sense?

being delusional and making an assumption may seem similar in theory, but in practice, they are completely different. one is literally the result of a mental illness, the other is a very normal, very human behavior that we do every day. we make assumptions about ourselves, people, and situations. all. the. time. it seems like it's only a problem and called "delusional" when it's about yourself, and it's something good.

it's like being confident in yourself, believing in your abilities despite what others have to say about you. for example, you have a great confidence in a talent or skill, and the you believe that you will get better as you get older/more experienced/more knowledgeable, and you'll make it places and have great opportunities in the future. let's say some random person decides to insult you and say that you'll never make it anywhere in life. would it be "delusional" to not listen to them? to not let someone else dictate your future? or would that simply be having some faith in yourself and not letting others define you?

this is literally all we're telling you to do, believe in yourself even if your reality seems to be against you. don't fight it, just accept that the unfavorable isn't true and move on. continue to believe in yourself.

and besides, if any person successful to date operated with that "i don't see it so it's not true" mindset, they wouldn't have become successful, would they? would anyone accumulate any kind of success with a mindset like that? the people who have came from nothing and made it to where they were now, had an unwavering confidence in their abilities and the fact that they'd be something one day. despite what anyone's told them, or tried to project onto them, it didn't get through to their unwavering sense of self.

the point is, we are promising you something. all it takes is for you to have some confidence in yourself. to quit hurting yourself. is that so hard?

anyways, the point of manifesting is when you change yourself, the things in your external reality change.

assuming is easy. believing things to be true without proof is easy. you just have to get comfortable with the fact that you need to change before anything changes externally. again, instead of believing you are a failure, that you are trapped, you simply assume you are successful, and you are not trapped.

people also change their minds all the time, they grow to have a different opinion, they realize they were wrong, they want to give something else a chance, or without a reason, they simply change their mind. these things are not impossible, they happen all the time.

i'm saying this to say that manifesting isn't being delusional. to be delusional is feeling stuck and like things can't change, when they so clearly do, all the damn time. you're not special enough for the concept of change to not apply to you. for instance, you are certainly not the same person you were when you were 6 compared to however old you are right now. you changed, therefore you are capable of changing, and i proved it to you with that simple example.

you only feel stuck because you decided you are, you decided that you'll never be unstuck, and so you haven't been. the law is working, just not in your favor. everything you see in your reality right now, perfectly matches whatever you've assumed to be true. that is not a coincidence. it's important to remember that the law isn't a thing with feelings, it does not care about you or your situation. all it does is continue to operate. it's up to you to use the law's indifference to your advantage.

also, you seem to have a victim mindset. it's very obvious in the way that you try to explain yourself, that you were doing as you were supposed to, but it still 'didn't matter'. you're putting so many things (your job, your bosses, proving yourself) on a pedestal, over what really matters, which is yourself. do you even like your job? did you pursue something you were passionate about? because if not, then you have no business subjecting yourself to any kind of mistreatment, not when you didn't even want to be there in the first place. you should be putting yourself and your desires before even thinking about pleasing anyone or meeting any kind of requirement.

your own standards and requirements should come first. remember : you chose to work for them. you have a choice. you also need to remember that your bosses and colleagues are regular people. outside of work (and in the workplace if we're being honest) they have no kind of power over you. you shouldn't be letting such irrelevant people in your life have the power to instill so much fear in you, to the point where you're having literal nightmares.. about typing a document incorrectly.

also, about feeling useful and competent, that's something you have to decide about yourself. are you useful? are you competent? do you honestly feel this way about yourself? definitely not, which is why you're seeking validation from others. but at the same time, it is what's made you so miserable, because you're definitely not getting that validation. and any you get only gives you a short lived feeling of satisfaction. your opinion on yourself matters more than what anyone has to say. that's literally why confidence and insecurity exist. and either way, you still feel a certain way about yourself that outweighs anything anyone has to say about you.

here's another example, let's say you've been insecure about your looks from a young age. if one day, someone randomly tells you you're beautiful or they think you're pretty, is all the insecurity you've felt for years suddenly going to go away? or will your mind find reasons to reinforce the fact that you don't feel beautiful? and if someone confirmed your insecurities, saying you weren't their type, they didn't find you attractive, wouldn't you just justify that reaction in your mind since you feel that way about yourself already?

with that in mind, how much does anyone's words really matter? do the words of others honestly have any significance when they aren't reinforcing something you already believe about yourself?

your reality works in a similar way. whatever you decide to assume/ accept as true/ shift your awareness to/ decide is true/ feel is certain, your reality will reflect. as well as a bunch of reasons to continue believing whatever it is is true. the law is very indifferent and has no bounds. it does not care about your feelings, your specific circumstances, and so on. that's why i'm telling you, you only feel these ways and experience the things you do, because you decided you were. this goes for being miserable, being stuck, feeling useless, feeling incompetent and living in fear. there are no exceptions.

so, with all that said, what do i suggest? first off, you need to practice being secure in yourself. work on being confident in yourself first, then work on your self concept. i say "confidence" as in feeling secure in yourself within the 3d. so, your looks, your body, your social skills, your physical skills, etc. because "self concept" has to do with having confidence in your manifestation abilities. find a helpful method that works for you, like affirming, visualizing, scripting, rampaging, or just simply deciding something new about yourself and accepting it.

self confidence has to do with things like liking yourself, being your own validation, having optimistic thoughts about yourself, and self efficiency. you can't care about what others think, you have to put yourself first, and you can't let anyone dictate your future. be selfish. the only thing that should matter is you and how something makes you feel. nothing bad comes from putting yourself first and not worrying about others.

once you feel confident in yourself, or even while working on your confidence, practice using the law. you could start by manifesting something small, something specific that would prove to you that you can manifest, then work your way up. manifest bigger things or just a large quantity of things, just to prove to yourself that there aren't any limits. remember, manifesting is just assuming: believing something to be true without proof. i mean that in the most literal, simplest way possible. like the example of success i used earlier.

once you've proven to yourself that manifestation is indeed real, play around with it. also, work on your self concept. decide that things always go well for you, that you deserve good things, you're the creator of your reality, learn to mentally reject unfavorable things in the 3d, and so on. this is what i would do if i were you.

i know this was kind of long, but i hope you understand my words and find them useful. feel free to dm me or send another ask if you have anymore questions. 🩶

[daysofbeingnothing]

this is the second time jack is getting slandered unjustifiably and unreasonably by the fandom and i am tired of it.

jack’s had a pretty rough couple of hours prior to the hospital scene. he saw smn he knew get thrown off a building and die, he found out a person whom he considered his friend was backstabbing him all this time and all hell is loose on his neighborhood for whatever reason he has no clue about. and now a literal child, a girl he considers his daughter is at the hospital, in surgery and he is losing his mind because he doesn’t know why all of these atrocities are happening back to back just when things were getting better. so when he hears that his boyfriend is the one that -unknowingly- caused all of these to start happening, understandably he cannot react calm and collected. and yes joker did betray jack’s trust, he did what jack told him not to do and he agreed he wasn’t going to do like literally hours later jack reminded him of it again.

what differentiates jack’s lie and joker’s is that first they weren’t in a relationship back then and second they hadn’t agreed to be honest with each other from then on and lastly joker had no external pressure to do what he did. jack had to save his grandma somehow and while that did force him to lie and hide the truth from joker it was because he was trying to protect joke from boss. but joker decided himself that he was gonna steal the ring in exchange for jack’s freedom. so an obligation and compulsion is not the same thing as a decision to go behind the person you love even though it is because you want to help them. and given the multiple outfit and location changes throughout the ep we can assume some time has passed between joker stealing the ring and tao ting ending up at the hospital meaning joker had time to tell jack the truth before it blew in all of their faces and its repercussions came to mess up everyone’s lives.

and i know joker meant well and i don’t think he should have been thought the lesson of his actions having consequences through tao ting. but saying jack should just ignore everything, show no reaction and emotions to being deceived is absurd. the jack hate train is so ridiculous.

[astroboots]

Every You Every Me #8

COLLABORATED WITH @THIRSTWORLDPROBLEMSS

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: You embark upon 'a Cosmic Masterplan to survive' - Phase one

Word count: 6,600

Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist | Astroboot’s Masterlist | thirstworldproblemss’ Masterlist

[Previous] [Next]

Ten days have passed since your home was blown to a million pieces. 

Ten days since you found out that there are multiple universes. 

Ten days since you learned that your universe—the world as you know it—has less than three months left before it implodes unless you can somehow find a way to save it… and yourself.

Despite the fantastical nature of those events, you find yourself returning back to your everyday life, just as mundane and ordinary as ever, cosmic murder attempts notwithstanding.

The helicopter crash was featured across the front page of The Times by morning, and apparently no one was hurt. The pilot had somehow been flung from the helicopter into a nearby window and miraculously survived without even a scratch. The only real casualty was your every worldly possession. 

After a personal calamity of that scale, you’d hoped you might be offered an extended leave from work. Unfortunately, corporate America stops for no tragedy. 

The only thing you're offered is a very sympathetic email the day after with a gift voucher for Dominos attached. Then Sally from HR had let you know that, given the severity of your situation, the company was generously granting you three whole personal days to sort out your affairs. After that you were requested to return to the office—the second quarter of the financial year was beginning soon after all. 

And so you find yourself back at work.

Back to 8+ hours a day spent sitting in your rickety office chair, killing your eyesight in front of your computer screen as you pore over excel sheets.  Back to the same old boring one-on-one meetings with your boss, who keeps harping on about Key Performance Indicators, as if they mean anything. You don’t understand what the point is. No matter how key your performance is, it never seems to be enough to net you a raise. 

“Our total revenue increased by 15% compared to last year, which is a significant achievement considering the challenges in the market, but I know we can do better if we just–”

You stifle a yawn, as you readjust yourself in your chair. It’s Monday morning, and you find yourself in one of the stale meeting rooms, with staler treats that you’re not even allowed to have because they are for external clients only. Your boss is right next to you, droning on and on about how she wants to see better results in the next fiscal quarter. All the while you’re trying to fight the losing odds of keeping your eyes open and the temptation of gravity that wants your head to lay down on the conference table for an impromptu nap.  

“We managed to improve our profit margin by 3% by reducing overhead costs, but we need to focus on further optimizing our operations in order to–”

Out of nowhere, the sound of her shrill nasal voice stops, and for a second you think that perhaps, sweet mercies of mercies, the meeting is finally over. But instead she points out the window and says the last thing you expect. 

“Hey, isn’t that Spiderman?” 

Huh?

You whip your head around to stare out the window so fast you nearly give yourself whiplash, and the sight that greets you is nearly enough to give you a heart attack on the spot. 

Oh, it’s Spiderman alright. Your Spiderman. 

Your maybe-vampire-but-maybe-not (he hasn’t combusted in sunlight yet, but then again he wears a full-body spandex suit) Spiderman.

Your Spiderman is right there in front of you in plain sight on the outside of the building, plastered to the wide wall-to-wall meeting room window. That dark blue super suit with the angry red spider emblazoned on his chest like a neon sign screaming: ‘Here I am!’ 

Your boss skips closer to the window in giddy excitement, until the two of them are only about a feet away from each other separated by a half an inch of glass.

“Look, his suit is different! I wonder if it’s an upgrade?” she exclaims, tilting her head to study him from the window. “He sure is a lot bigger in person, isn’t he?” 

You feel the blood drain from your face, and the whole of your back breaks out in cold clammy sweat against your blouse. Doing your best to act normal, you force yourself to stay seated in your chair despite the shrill scream ringing in your head and the way your heart is threatening to leap right out of your throat. 

What the hell does he think he’s doing!?

Thank fuck your boss still has her back to you, too enthralled by the unexpected superhero sighting to pay attention to anything else. You take advantage of her distraction to gesture frantically at Miguel, waving him away with as covert of a shooing motion as you can manage and praying that he’ll take the hint.

You know he sees you because the triangular outlines of his eyes narrow into annoyed slits and then he turns his face away as if offended, refusing to look at you. But at least he finally moves, leaping into the air and disappearing out of the sight of the window. 

“Oh, shoot! There he goes again,” your boss says, letting out a long, loud sigh as if even she doesn’t want to go back to listening to her own voice for the rest of this meeting. “Well, back to work. Guess that was the excitement for the day.”

Scratch what you were saying before. There are no more completely mundane days. Not now that Miguel O’Hara has entered your life. 

Once upon a time, your biggest dilemma with him was that he was avoiding you, refusing all your attempts to force a face-to-face meeting. Now you find yourself in the strange position of having the opposite problem.

True to his promise, Miguel is always there to protect you. 

In fact, he’s just plain always there. 

Never more than 10 feet away, regardless of where you go. He’s the last thing you see… or rather, hear before you go to sleep, his incessant snoring reverberating off the walls of your shared hotel room. Then, when you wake, it’s to his big 6’9” frame draped across the tiny velvet sofa, his long legs sticking off the end and hanging out into the room. 

Miguel hovers over you when you eat, in case you get another piece of toast stuck in your throat and he needs to do the Heimlich maneuver on you again. Or, like that one time last week, in case you developed another hitherto completely undiscovered food allergy and have to be rushed to the ER. He is constantly on alert, eyes glued to you at all times.

Miguel comes with you when you go grocery shopping at the corner bodega. Sticking close to your back in the cramped aisles, lest one of the shelves fall over and bury you under crates of Lucky Charms and Fruit Loops… again.  He has a sneaky habit of covertly dropping the most nutritiously questionable grocery items in your basket: jellied donuts, sugar-frosted pop tarts, fun dip and jolly ranchers. He eats like a five year old who has too much pocket money and no understanding of the food pyramid. It’s worrying to watch and you definitely google diabetes risk for spiders at least once, but the internet has nothing helpful to offer on that front.

Even when you’re relaxing in the luxury hotel suite that’s become your home, flipping through Tik Tok-edits on your iPhone (the newest model, which Lyla snagged for you!) or catching up on Netflix, Miguel is always right there. Not two steps away from you, looking over your shoulder. 

Being the constant center of Miguel's attention is… disconcerting. You know it’s because he’s watching for the next random disaster to strike, but having his eyes on you nonstop leaves you feeling uncomfortably aware of him all the time. Especially when you’re trying to watch Bridgerton on your new macbook pro (also courtesy Lyla) and an R-rated scene comes on. You’ve resorted to having Lyla order books and magazines for him in an attempt to keep him occupied, but it doesn’t seem to make much difference.

It’s so bad that you can barely go to the bathroom without Miguel guarding the door like a zealous German Shepherd, his back plastered to the nearest wall when you emerge. You try not to let the lack of privacy bother you… or to think about the fact that his spidey-supersenses probably let him hear everything.

The only place Miguel doesn’t come with you is when you go to work, because he doesn’t have the clearance needed to get into the building—tourists and non-personnel aren’t allowed any further than the lobby. It doesn’t stop him from climbing the walls of the building and hanging around outside the 44th floor though. You know he’s there because, you see his shadow blurring at the window whenever you get up to get more coffee or unstick the paper jammed in the printer. 

It’s an adjustment, but for all the madness that comes with the package, having Miguel around does make you feel safe. 

Time always seems to pass too quickly when there’s a deadline approaching. 

The problem is that right now the due it’s not the date of a school assignment or some work project that you’re worrying about. And if you take too long, the consequences will be much worse than a lower grade or a slap on the wrist. If you fail to meet this deadline, it will be the end of the world—not just as you know it, but for everyone in your entire universe.

A week ago you had been dauntless, facing Miguel down across the table at Starbucks and announcing that you intended to fight cosmically impossible odds in order to live. Bold even, when you’d confidently declared that the only thing you needed was three months and his protection from the universe's murder attempts to make that happen.

In retrospect, you might have been less dauntless and more… delusional, because so far the only real progress you've made is drawing up a Master Plan, complete with a bullet point list and no idea if any of it is actually going to accomplish anything.

'A Cosmic Masterplan to survive' - Phase one

Step 1: Personal history:

Identify past wrongdoings

Determine if they could explain cosmic retaliation

Step 2: Analyze incident patterns:

Study recurring near death incidents

Identify commonalities and patterns

Determine strategies to stop or prevent future occurrences

Step 3: Research genealogy:

Explore family history

Investigate any ancestors who may have incurred celestial grudges

Determine if these grudges extend to descendants

Step 4: Examine past life wrongdoings:

Establish if reincarnation is real

Investigate potential past life transgressions

Assess if they correlate with current cosmic retaliation

Step 5: Seek cosmic expert assistance:

Consider approaching Dr. Strange for guidance

Request expertise in understanding cosmic phenomena

Things had started out okay. 

You completed Step 1 in less than a day, quickly compiling a list of all the people you’d wronged in your lifetime. Anything that might make the universe want to intervene on their behalf and dole out some karma against you.

So far, your life's most egregious crimes include:

That time when you wet the bed during a sleepover when you were six and blamed it on your friend Sally Jenkins.

The night you bailed out in the middle of a date with a dentist from Tinder who insisted on ordering for you and kept talking about Alpha and Betas. (It was only after a very confusing and awkward conversation that you realized he was not talking about the omegaverse). You’re pretty sure you did both of you a favor when you told him you were going to use the bathroom before dessert and took off without saying goodbye instead.

That summer you brought only chocolate with coconut back to share with your coworkers after your vacation in Canada so that Matt in accounting (who always steals your yogurt out of the office fridge) couldn’t have any because he's allergic to coconut.

Are those the actions of a good person? Probably not. 

Are they petty? Oh yeah. 

Are they bad enough to justify karmic retaliation from the universe in the form of death? You doubt it.

As for Step 2, despite all the near death experiences you've had recently, there doesn’t seem to be any discernible pattern that could help you predict or prevent future incidents. After all it’s a bit difficult to predict that an impromptu mounted police parade would take place near your office, only for there to be a wild stampede of panicky horses that tried to mow you over. 

Step 3 of your plan? Another dud. 

Your family line is made up of uncles working blue-collar jobs at warehouses, aunties who pester you about being single, one grandfather who likes to talk about how things were better in the old days and a grandmother who likes to complain that you never call every time you call her (and another grandma you actually like because she feeds you sweets and cakes when you go visit).

There are no skeletons hidden in your family closet. Nothing interesting at all except maybe that one cousin who claims to have hooked up with Leonardo Di Caprio at Coachella (unverifiable and unlikely).

Your mission to try to figure out if all of this is caused by any past life connections in Step 4? 

It had seemed like a reasonable thing to look into, but how the heck do you go about doing that? You’ve put it on hold for now.

As for the final step? Your search to seek out cosmic expert assistance is still ongoing.

Contacting another Supe that has a magical expertise in the cosmic should be the most logical avenue. Doctor Strange is the superhero that famously deals with the magical cosmos stuff, so you figured maybe he could help in some way. That it wouldn't be hard for Miguel to reach out to him, one superhero to another.

It’s the one part of your plan you could actually take action on that seems like it might lead somewhere. Problem is, you've run into a big sassy roadblock named Miguel O'Hara. 

Miguel flatly refuses to have anything to do with Dr. Strange. 

His justification? 

"Hate that guy."

Repeatedly pestering him has gotten you nowhere, and it’s not like you, a random normie, can just rock up outside of Dr. Strange’s residence and ask for help because the universe is out to get you. That’s a good way to get yourself hauled away, like that guy from Colorado who was in the news last year for faking a UFO invasion with cheap props on YouTube and then camping out outside of Bruce Banner’s lab. Idiots like that show up from time to time, Superhero fanatics seeking the attention of the Avengers for some fake emergency.

Worst comes to worst, you could probably just stand outside Doctor Strange’s house until something tries to kill you again and hope that he’ll notice, but you’re not sure the universe won’t thwart you on purpose. Probably not the best use of your limited time, especially since you’re out of PTO. 

For now, you’re hoping to change Miguel’s mind through sheer persistence, but given how stubborn the man is, that might be more of a lost cause than trying to thwart the universe itself. 

It’s payday today, and you’ve decided to take Miguel to dinner in Chinatown as thanks for the man’s continuous efforts in saving your life.

As touristy as that area can be, there are some good, cheap diners owned by grumpy Cantonese families that serve large enough portions to feed this horse of a man.

It’s not entirely selfless. You’re tired of being cooped up in the hotel room as soon as you get off work, and you want to stretch your legs. You’re also hoping that stuffing Miguel full of food will make him more receptive to the next round of your arguments in favor of Step 5 of your Cosmic Masterplan. 

But you’ve been here for two hours now, and you’re not sure Miguel knows the meaning of the word full. 

He’s ordered egg tarts by the dozen. Crispy fried seafood noodles drenched in sweet cornstarch slurry. Deep fried turnip cakes soaked in sweet soy sauce. Beef Ho Fun. Every other dish is deep fried and slathered in XO sauce, and you are starting to be genuinely concerned about his cardiovascular health as you watch him shovel it down his maw, barely pausing to chew as he goes.

At least he looks happy while eating? Endearingly so. It’s the only time you’ve seen him relaxed and finally drop his guard a little bit, though you’re sure he’s still aware of every minute detail in his surroundings. You decide it’s better not to say anything since scolding him about being a glutton would be like the pot name calling the kettle. Your wolfish food habits is a shared hobby you have with Miguel at this point. 

“What’s wrong with the egg tarts?” you ask, eyeing the plate that lies still untouched on the table, the only food to have escaped Miguel’s massacre. Given how sweet they are, you would have expected him to inhale them within seconds. 

“I ordered them for you,” he says, not slowing down as he spears more food onto his plate. “Your favorite, right?” 

You nod slowly and reach for one, touched by the gesture but not sure what to say. 

There’s a fleck of sauce smudged on his cheek, a stray rice grain on his nose. He looks like any other civilian as he scarfs down the food in quick succession.

Out of his super suit, he looks different. He’s partial to oversized clothes that makes him look oddly gangly even with his build. You’ve caught him with glasses on more than once, even though you’re pretty sure he’s mentioned that supersight is one of the things he’s gifted with. You can’t help but wonder if he wears them out of a sense of habit or if it’s a conscious fashion choice. Probably the former, given what you’ve seen him wear so far—fashion doesn’t seem to be one of his fortes. All in all, it makes him look like a much homelier person with a slightly nerdy vibe than the handsome superhero when he’s on the job.

He’s softer without the supersuit. Still scowling, but it’s less intimidating when he’s doing it wearing a big hoodie with dumb logos printed across his chest. 

It’s still odd seeing Rude Spiderman in these domestic settings, but you think you prefer him like this.

“How’s your plan coming along?” he asks, mouth full of fried rice as he’s already reaching for a piece of char siu. 

Of course, he has to ask you a question just as you bite into sweet and creamy egg custard. 

“I’m kind of stuck,” you admit, the words muffled slightly by the pastry in your mouth. “I think we need to talk about reaching out to Dr. Strange.”

“No.” He doesn’t even bother to stop eating, still chewing with a gusto as the word emerges.

Nothing more than that. No reasons or explanation given, just ‘No.’ 

Irritation brews in your chest at his unhelpfulness. He’s throwing a monkey wrench into your cosmic survival masterplan, and he won’t even tell you why. 

Too busy stuffing his face with crispy wontons. 

“But why? He’s the only Avenger with an expertise in cosmic magic!”

“Expertise, my ass,” he retorts. 

“Why do you hate him so much?”  You slide the plate of roasted duck across the table, away from him, and that finally makes him pay proper attention. 

Miguel is doing that scowling thing again, first at you and then dropping his gaze to glaring down at his rice and chopstick like he’s about to stab it. 

“Because he’s an idiot. “Doesn’t have a clue what he’s talking about. Gives terrible advice.” 

“He was one of the world’s leading brain surgeons,” you huff. “I don’t think he’s an idiot, Miguel.”

Miguel leans over the table, sliding the plate back closer to where he’s seated. 

“Being handy with a scalpel isn’t a transferable skill to the supernatural. And he wears a cape. Only idiots wear capes.”

“Wait, what? You don’t like him because he wears a cape!?” you spit out incredulously. You don’t understand this man’s logic sometimes.

“Capes are impractical. Get snagged everywhere. No superhero worth the name would wear one,” he explain as if this alone perfectly justifies hating someone. He stabs a piece of meat with his chopstick and brings it to his mouth. “I will never ask that man for help again.”

Then he inhales the rest of the plate of roasted duck. 

You leave the restaurant frustrated. 

Miguel’s stubbornness remains as immovable as stone, and this big red and blue boulder has left you stuck at a dead end roadblock in the middle of a street, one you don’t know how to get around. He won't agree to talk to Strange, and you don’t know what else to do.

You need divine inspiration, or failing that maybe just… a hint. Something to tell you what direction to go in. Some kind of a sign.

Deep in thought, you turn round a corner, barely noticing how the alley narrows as you keep walking forward.  It’s not until a pile of crates in front blocks your path, forcing you to stop dead in your tracks that you lift your head to survey your surroundings. 

You and Miguel are at a small alley that you don’t recognize, which is weird because you know this area like the back of your hand. Somewhere along the way you must’ve taken a wrong turn.

Just ahead of you, there's a red stall set up on the sidewalk surrounding a small rickety table with red cloth draped over it, a couple of folding chairs set up in front.

Above it is… a giant sign. Fortune Teller, it says. 

Not quite the metaphorical sign you were asking for a few minutes ago, but maybe the universe has given up on subtlety for today. Hey, at least it’s not trying to kill you… unless fortune teller assassins are a thing. Shit, is the universe resorting to baiting traps now? You really hope it doesn’t start setting out poisoned cookies on window sills, because then it will be game over for you and Miguel both. 

You look the stall over, noticing that there are no crystal balls. No tarot cards. No trinkets or ancient scrolls like the ones you see in the movies.

There’s just an old lady. Her head is cleanly shaven, shining slick under the sole street lamp in the alley. She’s wearing a thick robe with a blue shawl draped over her shoulders that seems much too warm for the current weather, and cheap oversized sunglasses perch on her small nose despite it being evening. That outfit is certainly a choice.

Maybe you should be more cautious, but what harm can it do at this point?

The fortune teller certainly looks harmless and frail with her big round cheeks, sitting on a small stool. Even though she looks nothing like her, she makes you think of your grandmother—the one you actually like to call. The grandma who always has cookies stashed away for you when you come to visit.

Maybe she can give you a reading of who you were in your past life.

Maybe she can give you a protection amulet to make the universe chill the fuck out for a while.

Maybe she can burn some incense that will make you relax and get rid of the migraine you've gotten since the universe decided to murder you.

"Miguel." You tug at the lapel of his jacket, and point in the direction of the sign.

He turns around, scanning the space and then his eyes narrow disapprovingly.

"Fortune… teller,” Miguel reads off the sign in a slow skeptic drawl. He doesn't need to say more to express his complete and utter disdain, but that doesn’t stop him.

"You know it's all a scam right? People like this can't actually tell the future. They have no supernatural powers. What they do is cold reading."

It’s entirely unsurprising Miguel doesn't like the idea. There are a lot of things Miguel doesn’t like.

"What else do you propose we do?"

"Ask someone with actual skills who can help us?"

"You were the one who shot down the idea of asking Doctor Strange for help," you remind him.

"I don’t want his help," Miguel shoots back, grimacing as though the mere mention of the name is enough to leave a bad taste in his mouth.

"Yeah, so you keep telling me." You continue on to the stall, despite your companion's strong protests.

The sweet old lady greets you as you sit down at the table. She looks even weirder from up close, her bald head abnormally large for her small body. You try not to stare, not wanting to make her self-conscious, but you can’t help but wonder how gravity keeps her head upright. 

“Fifty dollars,” she announces the moment you take a seat. 

Fifty bucks to get your fortune read!? Talk about highway robbery! You could get seven overpriced Spiderman cookies for that. 

“That’s too much.” You shake your head, rising from your seat. 

“Okay, okay. I can do cheaper,” the woman immediately concedes, looking nervous at your sudden outburst, and you have to bite back a smile. 

That was easy. 

“How much cheaper?” you ask. You know how this game is played. 

“Twenty?”

If she’s willing to drop the price from fifty to twenty that easily, you can definitely get her to go lower. 

“Ten.” You cross your arms where you stand, making no move to sit down.

“Are you really haggling over this? You were the one who wanted to do this, and now you’re going to cheap out over ten bucks!?” Miguel says from behind you, but you ignore him. It’s enough to have him there looming over the lady as you stare her down, taking a note out of his intimidation tactic book. 

“Some of us aren’t made out of money, Miguel–” 

“Fine! Ten, I’ll do it for ten,” the lady says over the top of your arguing. 

She’s skittish in the sudden silence that follows, looking over her shoulder to her left and right, as if she’s checking if your loud outbursts have attracted any attention.

Seemingly reassured that there’s only the three of you here, she gestures for you to sit back down and then tilts her head towards you. 

From behind her sunglasses, you can see that her eyes are clouded white from glaucoma, but when she raises her gaze to give Miguel an appraising look from head to toe, it’s obvious that she’s still able to see.  

“Your husband is tall.”

You see Miguel go rigid out the corner of your eye and chance a quick glance up at him. His sour expression hasn’t changed but you can tell he’s uncomfortable from the way his fingers are gripping the fabric of his hoodie where the chain holding his ring is hiding underneath the layers of clothing.

"Can you do a past life reading?" you ask instead, trying to steer the conversation away from anything that might inflict further painful reminders upon him. "I want to know if I could have attracted bad karma in my past lives."

“No such thing,” she says bluntly, shaking her head, "You have no past life. Reincarnation is not real."

That’s step 4 taken care of, you think to yourself, and you think you hear Miguel choke back a laugh behind you. You’re not thrilled that he’s having fun at your expense, but at least he’s not sad anymore. 

"Uh… okay…" You try to think of what else was on your list. "Then can I buy a protection amulet or something? I've had really bad luck lately."

The old granny looks you over appraisingly, eyes traveling from the top of your head as far down as she can see before the table top gets in the way, and her benign and friendly smile fades as she does. 

"No," she says, eyes wrinkling with worry. "An amulet is of no use to you. Just a waste of money."

Oh wow, grandma is really dissing you right now.

She gestures her hand in a come hither motion to get you to lean down, and then pulls out a paper and pen and starts to draw an uneven circle with thick, crude lines.

"See here?" she says as she loops the circle closed, "This is all of us, our world" 

Miguel is suddenly right next to you, hunching down and bent over the small table. You don’t know when he managed to sneak up on you, but he’s right there, so close his shoulder is brushing up against yours. 

The fortune teller moves her pen inside the circle to draw a much smaller one, then a forked line sticking out of it, and another line across the center of that one. It’s so crudely drawn it takes you a second to realize it’s a stick figure. 

"This is you," she points at it with a pen, seeming to admire her own creation.

Next to you, Miguel is staring down at the childish drawing with his hands crossed against his chest in irritation, his right eyelid is twitching. He looks like he’s about to have an aneurysm.

Even though he’s not saying a word, you swear you can almost hear his inner monologue, protesting the lady’s poor handmanship and drawing skills. He doesn’t need to say it but even $10 is too much of a price to pay, even for a man with infinity dollars.

Seemingly oblivious to Miguel’s irritation, the fortune teller proceeds to draw angry darts from inside the circle aimed at the poor you stick figure. Pressing so hard with her pen that the ink bleeds into the paper and the darts are starting to look like daggers. You almost wince when you see a couple of them pierce through your stick figure. “Outside interference has brought bad luck to you. It will never go away; it will follow you forever.”

You peer down at the paper with a sense of unease. Aren’t scam fortune tellers supposed to tell you what you want to hear? Where are the reassuring lies? Shouldn’t she be telling you that you’re going to meet a tall, dark, handsome stranger? Or that you were a princess in a past life? Since when do they tell you that you’re doomed to die over and over?

“So what am I supposed to do?” you ask. 

“Keep moving,” she says with an unfaltering smile as if she hasn’t given you the most grim fortune telling of all time. 

You lean back in your seat deflated. Scam or not, the prognosis isn’t looking good for you right now. 

The lady ducks under her desk, and is sorting through a pile of junk paper, before she pops back up again. She shoves something into your hands, and leans over to you with a piercing gaze in her milky-white eyes. “The man who will help you lives here.”

Hope sparks bright in your chest at her words. Finally, a lead! Someone who can help you! You can’t believe your random decision to stop has given you the first clue that might actually lead somewhere!

You look down at what she’s given you. It's a pamphlet map of New York. Yellow and bright, the title reads: ‘Star Maps of Celebrity Homes.’ One of those cheap plastic ones they hand out with the tour buses. 

The hope that had been building in your chest deflates, popping like a cheap balloon. 

You make yourself scan the tacky star map for any clues as to who she means, but you you don’t see anything to lift you out of your disappointment. As much as you love Robert De Niro and Whoopi Goldberg and would love to get their autographs, you don’t think any of the people on this map are in any position to help you. 

You sigh. 

Ok, maybe Miguel was right. The fortune teller was a bust. What a waste of money. 

From behind you, you can already hear the rustle of movement from him, as he’s stepping away. 

“Come on, Cielito,” he says as he nods his head in the direction towards the exit of the alley.

The fortune teller grabs your hands in hers, as she leans in closer to your ear and whispers, as if trying to be out of earshot of Miguel. “Be careful with that one. He’s not from around here.”

Back at the hotel, you plop down on the ridiculously wide and fluffy bed, but not even the luxury of your surroundings can lift your spirits. You’re still uncomfortably full from dinner. The overload of delicious egg tarts sit like lead in your stomach, weighing you down. 

Wasn’t there a Swedish king at some point who ate too many sweet buns and died of a burst stomach? Wouldn’t it be ironic if, after all the calamity and disasters you’ve escaped, your gluttony was the thing that ended you? You don’t think anyone who knows you would be surprised to read ‘died from eating too many egg tarts’ in your obituary. It’s perfect. A stupid and meaningless death to match your stupid and meaningless life. 

From the corner of your eye, you see Miguel drag off his hoodie over his head. You squint your eyes, pretending not to look as the tan skin of his firm muscled back is revealed to you before he pulls on a tight-fitting white t-shirt that pulls taut against his chest.

The free peep show usually makes excitement and heat thrill through your spine, but tonight it does nothing. You feel… oddly numb. 

The lights go off with a gentle click, and then you are left by yourself in darkness with nothing but your thoughts to keep you company.

You don’t know what to do. The fortune teller had been as stupid and pointless as every other idea you’ve had. 

You grit your teeth, sighing as you turn restlessly onto your side in the bed, stretching out your leg to make yourself more comfortable, hoping sleep will claim you so that you can stop these thoughts from running on a constant loop on your brain like the world’s shittiest radio channel. 

God, you can’t believe you spent $10 dollars on that fortune teller, and got nothing to show for it except a crappy map meant for gullible tourists. 

What are you going to do if you’re too stupid to think of any other ideas? Your skin crawls at the thought, a tangle of worry sitting in the pit of your stomach, climbing upwards and trying to burst out of your chest. You roll over, but it only seems to get worse. 

Are you just going to wait out your time like a sitting duck? 

You twist your body, squeezing your eyes shut. The thoughts won’t stop. 

Are you just going to sit here doing nothing? 

Are you going to di–

Screeeeeeeeeeeeeeech.

The loud noise startles you, and you freeze, suddenly aware of just how vulnerable you are with only the sheets and comforter for protection. 

Oh god, what is trying to kill you this time? 

Your eyes are wide open with a strain, staring off into the darkness like a deer in the headlights as you listen to the sound of something sharp scraping against the wooden floor.

It’s coming closer. 

Fuck. Is it an assassin? Some kind of otherworldly monster that’s come to drag you to hell with it? 

And where is Miguel? Why isn’t he stopping it!? 

Maybe he’s gone, a cruel voice whispers in your head. Maybe he’s had enough. Maybe he sees what you don’t want to—the futility of what you’re trying to do. Running around like a headless chicken trying to find a way out of the grand cosmic slaughterhouse that is set on ending your life. Maybe he’s given up on you. 

Maybe you need to give up too. 

You’re too scared to risk making noise, but you can’t not do anything. You turn as soundlessly as you can in bed, rolling towards Miguel—hoping with all your might that he’ll still be there to save you—only to be greeted by the sight of his back closer than you expect, hunched over the lounge chair as he drags it towards the bed, the metal legs scraping against the floor, making the very sound that had just scared you half to death. 

You dart upright in the bed, outraged.

“What are you doing!?”

Miguel looks back at you, then down at the chair he’s moving, and then back up at you with that blank expression on his face. 

“Moving this?” He sits down on the lounge chair that’s now next to your bed, “I heard you tossing and turning. Thought you couldn’t sleep.” 

There’s a pause as he peers at you in the darkness, then he rubs his hand at the back of his neck.

 “Shit, did the noise scare you? Sorry, Cielito.”

There’s that nickname again. You don’t remember when it started or where it came from, but it’s something he’s been calling you more and more often. He’s wearing a wrinkly oversized t-shirt and a sheepish expression as he’s eyeing you, making sure you’re okay. It’s almost, nearly endearing. 

“Why do you keep calling me Cielito?” you ask. “Is that what you used to call other me?”

“No, I didn’t call her that.” He shakes his head, the same aching longing in his eyes that’s always there at the mention of your other self. “I called her Nena.” 

“Then why Cielito?”

He tilts his head down at you as if the answer is obvious, and then he breaks out into a small smile. “Because you keep falling through the sky.”

You stare at him in silence for a second, at the goofy looking grin he’s wearing.  He looks so proud of himself and his silly dad joke that you can’t help but smile back, laughter bubbling up and out of your chest. His smile just gets bigger.

What a dork.

You lay back down in bed, still tittering with laughter, and there’s a comforting weight that rests on top of your head for a brief moment. It’s his hand. The touch is pleasant, his palm warm against your skin, and the comfort of it erases the last trace of residual alarm in your body. 

“Just go to sleep already." The words are impatient, but his voice is gentle, and it makes your chest warm as he continues, “It’s okay. You don't have to worry. I won't let anything happen to you.”

He hasn’t given up on you. 

His words drip through your insides and warms you from inside out. It’s comforting, the way a blanket feels wrapped around you in the winter when your heating is out. He sounds so confident when he says them. Like there’s no doubt in his mind that you’ll survive this, because he will personally see to it. The anxious chatter in your mind finally quiets, and you close your eyes, knowing he’s only an arm’s length away. 

Somehow, with Miguel here, the impossible odds you’re up against don’t seem quite so impossible, and hope buzzes pleasantly in your chest as you drift off to sleep. It's the best sleep you've had in a long time.

~ Next Issue

Credits & Dedication: Love a thousand and million years for @thirstworldproblemss who had to finely comb over and beta-read and edit this chapter over and over and rubber duck i with me while I was fixing up the details. I hope that I get to write with her til I go old and grey and senile, because it is the most wonderful joy and experience and I love her so.

This chapter is also dedicated to the wonderful and talented @forwantofwill who was endlessly kind in doing this amazing, beautiful piece of art of Miguel eating cookies in the windowsill Thank you so so much for making this and gifting me not just with your immense talent but also your time!

For those of you who haven't yet please follow her! She's amazingly talented and have such a wonderful blog filled with gorgeous and amazing fanart!

a/n: to be notified of new writing updates follow astroboots-writes and turn on notifs.

[hi-i-love-u-bitch]

Okay I see your "if Hobie and Noir meet they would be besties and punch nazis together" and I totally agree with that! But also consider:

Hobie is Spider Noir's biggest fanboy!

Like in the comics he's like a HUGE Gwen Stacy stan and he's such a goofy little dork about it. In ATSV him and Gwen's relationship is more like chill friends, and I'm okay with that. But I think it be so funny that when Hobie was recruted into Spiderverse society and Miguel was showing him all the other universes with the different Spiderman variants he pauses by the computer screen with that one gritty black and white universe cuz he just saw some guy in a fedora and trench coat PUNCH A FUCKING NAZI!!! WHO IS THAT GUY?!?! HE'S SO COOL!!!

He asks Miguel a million and one question about the guy and when the old grump annoyingly shoos him away he asks Peter as he briefly met him during that one incident in Miles is dimension. When that still isn't enough he asks Lyla to tell him everything she knows on Noir. Now obviously Lyla has no obligation to do this but she's also never seen Hobie this giddy and excited over something other then music. Its adorable, he's almost like a little kid wanting to know everything about their favorite cartoon. Also she low key likes to annoy Miguel and Hobie's rebellious spirit that gets under her straight laced boss is skin which is hilarious.

You know when Gwen first met Hobie she was a bit intimated cuz he just had that "too cool" vibe about him. But as soon as she mentions that she has worked with other Spider people before, which includes Noir, he did a whole 180 and became a complete dork!

Hobie: Get out, you actually met him! 🤩

Gwen: Uh, yeah?

Hobie: How was he like? What did he say? Did he talk about fascist corruption that not only plagued the system back then but even now as well? Was he super cool during the fight?! 😃🤩💫😻

Gwen: ..........He was nice.

Hobie: That's so rad! ✨️🤟🤩

I also feel like, aside from Miles, Gwen keeps in contact with the other Spider peeps from the first movie and tried to recruit them into the Spider society but obviously Noir and Porker didn't join. Porker because he’s a cartoon that follows "toon logic" and Miguel's ideologies are too serious for his taste. And Noir because, and I quote: "The last I heard of a secret society designed to 'keep the peace for the greater good of humanity at any cost' a whole world war came about it. I know fascism when I see it, kid."

Gwen relays that message to Hobie when explaining why Noir isn't joining and Hobie's response to that is: "He gets it! He just like me fr! 😭💕"

I think it be really cute that in the next movie when they finally meet Hobie is kinda awkward and shy. Like this guy has never respected an adult in his life (at least not any that didn’t deserve the disrespect) and with Noir his all like "Hello sir" "How are you sir" "It's very nice to meet you sir!" And Noir is actually just a really nice guy if a little broody but he's heard so much about this kid from Gwen and how much of a good friend he's been to her so Noir already likes him on principle.

Hobie: Uh Mr. Noir-- Parker, sir! It is such an honor to meet you! The work you do in your universe is amazing and I hope to learn more while working alongside you however briefly.

Noir: Ah, Peter is just fine really, or Noir if it gets to confusing. No need to be so formal, we're all on equal footing here. I've heard a lot about you and your world as well from Gwen. Although it does sadden me that such a young man has to take on the burden of saving the world from such a corrupt society yet again, you're going about it quite well. War is hard and ugly and violent but you are amazingly brave to be able to stand up for what is right in the face of it all. If anybody is honored here it is me, for being able to meet such a remarkable young man like you. And knowing that my friends have made such honorable allies in the midst of all this chaos.

Hobie, externally: Yeah, it's whatevs 😎

Hobie, internally: Dont cry dont cry dont cry dont cry dont cry dont cry dont cry dont cry YOURE GUNNA LOOK SO UNCOOL IF YOU CRY IN FRONT OF HIM NOW 😭💕😭💕😭

I just think it be really cute if they had a wholesome father-son sort of relationship where they shit talk corrupt government systems and punch fascists together. You know, regular father-son bonding!

(Also I think that's another reason Miguel didn't invite Spider Noir to the Spiderverse, cuz he knew that both of these menaces together would cause a bigger headache than its worth 🤣🤣🤣)

[fumifooms]

Namalin

Namari x Falin

Easy short rarepair spotlight post for prosperity~ This one I didn’t think of on my own for once, I don’t know if it’s just I forgot the decided-on ship name or what but I remember seeing really nice art and a couple posts about it that I can’t find again 💔 Namalin warrior you are out there and not forgotten ty for making me see the light

I like that Namari’s critical of Falin! I have a whole character analysis on Falin if you’re interested, but it’s generally well noticed that people around Falin idealize her a lot. Laios, Marcille and Toshiro all put her on a pedestral of ultimate goodness in the world, a saintess if nothing short of perfection. Sounds like Chilchuck felt sort of creeped out by her vibes, uncomfortable because he couldn’t read her, so unlike Namari it seems he preferred steering clear of her rather than debate opposed ideologies like he usually does. Makes sense if unlike Namari his issue is with her cryptic aura rather than the stances she does show. "… The dungeon is no place for soft hearts" my ultimate namalin scene <333 It’s fun because while this scene is there to show us a lot of things, mostly to establish Falin’s characters better as it’s the first flashback of her we get, the conflict in it is more than anything else Falin vs Namari in how they contrast and clash and approach situations differently. Namari wants security in swift effective violence and thinks Falin too soft for her own good when she prefers a pacifist approach and promotes compassion even for the "undeserving" in Namari’s eyes. Falin steps between the battle ready Namari and the ghost, fearless. Falin effortlessly gently exorcises the ghost without one step back, quickly. Falin proves someone wrong. Falin proves someone wrong.

I love thinking of Namari being surprised when she learns new aspects of Falin. I like Falin having the power to shape people’s views on her. With Falin ships the most fun part for me is usually that point where Falin/the relationship becomes a clean slate: the person realizes they haven’t been seeing all of her, realizes there’s more of her they hadn’t noticed or that she hadn’t shown, that there’s change, a shift in the views on each other and the dynamic a bit.

Namari often feels like an external view looking in to me… I need to make a proper analysis on her but like. I made a lamari post once (analytic more than personally invested rip sorry) and I go with the same Namari take here, I think she’s someone who tends to have an outsider view on people and relationships if that makes sense, she’s a coworker before anything else and she’s content staying at a distance, she’s not objective per se but she tries to keep feelings out of her choices and how she sees people (her lil arc on not staying to save Falin despite the existing camaderie but in the end asking to work for the Flokes more because she wants to stay with them). She’s serious no nonsense on the job but friendly off the job and likes having casual friends, but she’s not��� She doesn’t really feel connected to the group. She’s so focused on doing her job, even if she does get impulsive and passionate and too assertive for her bosses’ tastes, so focused on working her reputation and life from the ground up that that professionalism and attitude limits her social life. It doesn’t help that her reputation makes her widely judged, so she probably enters social spaces on the derensive. The closest person she was to pre-canon as far as we knew was Chilchuck and even they have a very "coworker I get along with" dynamic more than friends, with a similar sense of boundaries, humor and world view. Also like canon says a few time, the party didn’t really try to get to know each other well pre-canon, didn’t hang out after work often no one knew where Marcille was from and no one thought that was weird (also how no one had the instinct to ask about Senshi’s past) etc, the notable exception is we’re shown Namari and Chilchuck hitting taverns together and having a grand time. Everyone’s fine with things as they are, they get along decent even if not everyone considers each other friends exactly. Where I’m getting at is that to me, it feels like she tries keeping emotional distance. Emotional distance from people in general being something which in my interpretation of Falin is also present, which would make it a theme and common thread interesting to explore imo. But yes like, Namari looking at Falin, and how everyone treats her, and being more skeptical, seeing her for what she is a little more, maybe even uncharitable. "Why is everyone treating her like she’s all that? She’s gentle sure but seems like a doormat to me" and then one day she comes running up with her mace ready to cave in someone’s face to protect Laios. So yeah… Keeping her distance but one day Falin offering her some gentleness that feels very too personal for someone who’s not used to being genuine and simply showing that they care… Them talking a bit which leaves her stumped and mindblown in a quiet way when Falin defies her expectations. Namari growing on Falin when she stays and decides to open herself up more, or when Falin ends up reading her really well like she’s shown to do with her parents and Marcille’s worries. She’s very attuned to worrying and why and when different people do it especially when it comes to when they worry for others, perhaps because she does a lot of that too, so I think she’d nail down how Namari does care for the rest of the party and it’d make Namari feel seen both in a warm validating way and in a scared naked way.

We see in the tentacles chapter that she’s someone’s who’s very protective and looks out for her peers in a tough love way. She’s overbearing but it’s because she wants everyone to have the best chances. I like that she’s very confrontational and somewhat pushy and rude, but it’s tough love, it’s protective care: asserting herself to better protect and defend. The opposite of Falin’s type of care, quiet and self-sacrificial devotion. They’re barbarian x healer but they’re also bodyguard x bodyguard in their attitude and role. … What I want for them is slow burn slice of life of being coworkers and slowly getting to know each other better, pretty fluffy, but god, put this way they’d have the potential to be such a hot layered mess of insanely mutually devoted codependence… Falin taking a hit for Namari and Namari being scarred by it forever, lots of arguments about it, my god.

I like that she’s the fighter to Falin’s healer. I looove thinking of scenes of Falin healing Namari, necessitating touch and like, a moment of slowing down and sitting together in silence, too intimate, the perfect opportunity to connect that neither truly want to take until one day they do. I love how onesided I imagine the relationship would be at first. Again, as per my interpretation of Falin, I think Namari would have all these little observations and opinions on Falin meanwhile Falin really doesn’t think of Namari much at first. So Namari thinks a lot about Falin and thinks she’s got her pinned down but hasn’t (not that she’s fully wrong, she’d have credit and confront Falin on some of her flaws like the doormat thing), while Falin is very passive about Namari and doesn’t think deeply about her or anything but she read Namari’s insecurities and logic well. Not unlike how Laios was the one who seemed to understand Namari’s way of care the best in the party in the tentacles episode, and how he was very understanding of her choice and reasons. In Falin’s case it’s more like, the objectivity of passivity… She cares about Namari less than Laios who generally seeks to form bonds, so her lack of investment allows her a neutral perspective. In that way another parallel with Namari that I’m drawing, except Namari lets feelings from her opinions seeps in more… Onesided beef my beloved. I’m going insane save me this post was a mistake. I think Falin takes the crumbs of friendship and love where she can without expecting or asking for anything more than what’s offered, and I think her relationship with Namari (or anyone really) would start out the way it did with Marcille: the other takes the initiative and they end up spending time together, Falin is friendly but unattached until the bond gets gradually and wordlessly strenghtened through regularly spending moments together. So! I think Namari would need to take a lot of the first steps, which since again she’s confrontational & argumentative and doesn’t hold herself back on that front that could spark a lot of conversations I think. Ooor since Falin cares about Namari less than Laios and Marcille she allows herself to be bolder herself lol. Or also circumstances force them to spend time together like dungeon party getting separated shenanigans.

I think their personalities match cutely, I think falin would try to protect namari like she does others but also Namari simply doesn’t need protection, just support. And I think they’re complementary in that way that Namari’s friendly but also won’t sugarcoat things, and I think if she takes an interest in Falin it could go from there and she could develop some understanding of her and idk like an intrigued crush….

Namari wants stability & security & to, like, not be judged and rejected and exiled lol, to find her nest her pack the place where she feels good and wanted in. I think having a fitting partner would help in that (similarly to how the found family with the Flokes seemed to. Oh another parallel, Falin’s top priority is protecting Laios her brother and what Namari are a family figure) and I think Falin would fulfill that cozy protection and that warm ‘being seen and not judged’ feeling. But also Namari would run up to her and yell about her trying to sacrifice herself ever.

Another fun thread to explore: post-canon guilt for not having gone to save her. Sure, they weren’t close, but they had some nice memories, didn’t they? Namari cares, and it stings despite herself when it feels like people think she doesn’t. Oh it wasn’t a lost cause after all, oh it’d have worked out, oh I could have stayed loyal and it wouldn’t have compromised myself in the end. Wanting to apologize to Falin, or just ahnging out with her and sharing a moment after she wakes up. And tangent but that’s interesting to think about… Narratively, I think the purpose of Namari and Toshiro in the story, beyond strenghtening the theme of "seek to understand what is different from you and promote unity despite them" and fleshing the cast and worldbuilding, is Toshiro’s purpose was being a foil & tool in Laios’ arc (trouble connecting with people) while Namari’s was being and a foil & tool in Marcille’s arc (standing up for ideals without being out of touch with harsh realities and needs). They are the conflict that push our protagonists to grow— and they explore different ways of dealing with a situation or topic, different ways of growing into themselves on that end: Laios needing to listen to others more and Toshiro needing to focus on voicing himself more to be able to connect, Marcille needing to learn ideals sometimes cost too much and Namari needing to internalize that ideals are sometimes worth risks (not only to be able to find a reasonable but fulfilling life balance, but also to get in touch with their compassion: Namari restricts her own too much and Marcille is too harsh on people she deems to be breaking values, like Namari not risking her life and career for a friend with no promise of success, or even like how Namari is harsh on Falin’s way of doing things : too gentle, too soft, too idealistic) (similarly to Chilchuck’s arc with Marcille too, and he also plays a hand in advancing that arc in the Namari chapters). We are getting far from namalin sorry ummm preview for future analyses like Toshiro’s contrasting approach to grief and accepting loss.

More post-canon namalin! Thinking about a timeline where… Namari is fond of Falin finding herself and going off to do her thing. "Finally!" she thinks. If she’s still for hire, maybe Falin would want her to come along, either as guide or bodyguard <3, she knows Namari has a lot of good avice on a lot of things to give, plus they’ve worked together before. She hires Namari and they travel for a bit. Travel would do Namari good too I think, even if her end goal is to settle and I think Falin’s would be too eventually. Seeing sights that light her wonder for the world and going places where people don’t know her story, don’t recognize her face or her name. Them, feeling free. Finding a companionship that feels uplifting instead of stifling or charged. Namari having been too in her head about reputation and social games and money that they hit the roads and spend time in nature and it’s like, woah. I’ve been living in a small world with made up rules.

Ahh yes romance, Namari and Falin kissing after 3 years of not really knowing each other despite seeing each other every day then 2 months of wanting to spend more and more time together until they’re an inseparable duo! Workwives. I want them to stand next to each other during campire time and Namari cracks little jokes and Namari laughs. I want Namari to gift Falin a bug caught in amber and for it to be their wedding/promised to each other thing.

TLDR

Rowdy but levelheaded barbarian x gentle healer that will also cave your face in with a mace I like it…… They’re an interesting duo of mixed stuff. Protection being your purpose and what you’re worth for, literally being a meat shield (Laios, Tansu), finding your individuality recognized and validated through a growing bond with the other. Sticking around as a love language. Also bug immortalized in amber and it being beautiful.

Nevermind this wasn’t short. Um! Anyways.

[sonicjustbecause]

The Sonic 3 Trailer lacks of both spoiler and context, and that is about how a trailer should be. We already know what it is about. We only needed to see few scenes to make sure it might look good (or bad, it depends on what we except).

Now, I've seen a couple of crazy theories I've read and I believe both of them won't happen. I'll explain

Tom getting killed

Won't happens anything different to Tom that didn't happen before. he will be at worst knock out/neutralized and go off screen. Like in Sonic 1 (punched by Eggman) and Sonic 2 (encircled by flames)

Such happening would be the complete Shadow's assasination as character. We as fan won't forgive him and also this would push Shadow in the villains realm.

The past characterization.

Original Shadow (Adventure/Heroes/06) was very tame. There is a video on YT that analyze how Shadow behaves toward the world and underline the lack of destruction and violence in SA2, as opposite as we see in Sonic X and ShtH05.

in Sonic-X they changed slightly Shadow's personality, removing his intellectual and contemplative nature and replacing it with a more brash and violent personality. But even there, they prevented Shadow from killing Cosmo, making him acting like a cat who plays with his prey instead of being efficient (slow pace, talking, missing aim despite the short distance and when the thing failed just giving up on that). Shadow could have act smartly simply killing Cosmo in her sleep. As I say, I think they wanted to save his reputation.

In Sonic Force he indeed killed Infinite's squad. His first kill, most likely. Small fries, while leaving the boss alive, evil and stupid considering the aftermath. They saved Shadow's reputation by making Infinite lame and obnoxious and by not showing his gang at all (so we don't get attachted and we still cheer for Shadow). Sort of telling without actually showing anything.

Similar cases and why those characters have been tamed out.

Lupin III had a super rough star. His author got inspired by underground Western comics of the '60s and the original Lupin III was not a thief and a cheerful anti-hero. Lupin was originally a real godfather, a mafia boss, and despite he was mostly accompanied by Jigen and Goemon (who weren't really characterized back then) he had all underdogs, picciottos and so on under his rule. He did steal, but also he killed innocents, he raped women (includin Fujiko) and did several other hideous things.

Evil protagonists don't last long. They either get overhauled or they die like Light Yagami.

For this Lupin had to be tamed. Lupin killed less and less and more and more only with a reason and was more and more gentle with the innocents, including his main foe. And lastly he just virtually stopped to kill.

He's not the only one, many protagonists were born as unremedable villain and then they have been turned into antiheroes... or even heroes. Villanous protagonists never last long.

Shadow is beloved mostly because of his original personality. I noticed in most fan work, he is characterized the way he was in Sonic Adventure 2/Heroes/06 or Prime. Sometimes like in Sonic X and Shadow 05. Rarely like modern Shadow.

Back to Shadow

"What did you do?"

"What I had to!"

Those lines may be related to anything and everything. They might be related to Shadow's attempt to destroy the world like in SA2.

"I had to keep my promise!"

"What I had to do" suggest me something Shadow did not because he wanted to but for an external obiective. It might be world safety, keeping a promise, preventing the Sun going red giant, anything. Maybe even destroying Metal Sonic (if he appears like some rumor suggest) after Sonic convinced him to join the good side. Shadow has a long story dealing with living weapons.

Shadow stealing Stone's bike

Simply impossible. I already said Shadow's size is comparable to the size of a five years old child, about 1m tall. Stone is a 1,78m tall adult.

How Shadow would look on Stone's bike. It would be good material for the memes. And even if he would be able to ride an adult designed bike, he would be unable to do the Akira thing.

[sparky-is-spiders]

Old Gods: Veskeiryaer, The Golden Mask, the Godslayer

New Gods: Amaldyne (and Eityr by association), Leoshgon, the Overseer, Corvid (I mean at one point lmao), the Watcherite (also at one point).

There's something about gods on opposite ends of the age spectrum that Captures me.

Old gods. More ancient relic than living thing. Awakening to a strange new world. Something so powerful and terrifying that it could warp the whole course of history, somethings whole civilizations bowed to, forgotten and abandoned in the dark. The gods of the modern age turning their gaze to something vast and ancient and powerful that had been huddled away for thousands of years. It has been so very long.

Perhaps it might be hungry.

[autisticlalna]

i went insane in avid's comments again so here's the weekly wall of text:

the remodeled control room is supposed to get a stronger signal down into the Void-- and, potentially, to what's below it. everything glitches out like when Avid has flashbacks(?) to Limbo. Avid's confused, worried, and then glitches into his OSSHA uniform and is eerily calm. "They're not safe. I need to stop them. They can't fall in. If they fall in, I… I can't leave, I can't- I can save all of them. I will save all of them."

THEN WE HAVE THE MYSTERY ROOM. this has already been pointed out elsewhere in the comments, but that specific palette harkens back to areas under control by Olm, the Old One from the Avid Adventures series. there's a very memorable boss intro where you walk through a beautiful cathedral in darkness as tendrils of something worryingly fleshy spread across the walls and floor behind you. the fact that Olm's infection is here, of all places, is frightening-- and where IS here? is this part of OSSHA HQ? it's pretty hard to build hidden places in Skyblock, but… has this been here all along?

"Don't worry. I'll take care of you, Trog. You'll never fall in the Void again! None of them… will ever fall in the Void again." TROG'S BEEN TUBED!! THEY'VE BEEN PICKLED!! AAAUGH!! the worst part is, Trog might've been gone for a while! the last we've seen of them (in episodes / "in-character", anyway) was when they stopped by Cherry Kingdom to negotiate a trade deal, and that was… um. nearly three weeks ago. that would track with how oxidized their tube is, too.

and the thing is, Avid knows about Trog's trip to the Void. in Trog's POV, they reach the bottom of the Void, find someone there, and then get pulled back by the OSSHA station when Avid last turned on the machine. Trog told Avid about what they saw, and that might've been what spurred Avid into action to kidnap them: they got too close. Avid thinks he's protecting them (after all, the only reason they came back up was because of external influence-- what if they were trapped down there Forever? wouldn't that be awful? isn't that terrifying? Avid's doing them a favor, surely.) while his boss wants Trog out of the picture entirely before they can poke further into the carefully-constructed trap Avid is caught in.

there's still a lot to unpack that I don't have the keys to: "I can't leave", what exactly Avid saw or heard and why it pushed him to check in on Trog in stasis, how much time is lost between glitch segments (in the sense of "Avid is skipping from place to place, so we're probably skipping over things being said and things he's seeing as well"), if anyone else has been put in stasis yet.

[synthient]

I think that whether or not "Rogue is the Master" turns out to be correct, Davies/Herron/Redman assumed that it would be the popular, "obvious" fan theory after the episode came out.

They figured that everyone would be abuzz about the sheer number of Master references they worked in. "Rogue is the Master" would be the fan assumption they'd be working with and against in all subsequent, extra-textual Rogue content.

Now. Let's step away from "is Rogue the Master" for a moment, and focus on another question: "is Rogue coming back"

On the pro side: they keep working Rogue's ring into the Doctor's costume designs (potentially setting up some sort of "the ring is actually a tracking device or something" plot beat). Rogue and The Meep appear to have the same boss. Season 1 and 2 were shot back to back, which takes care of "will they ever be able to work Groff into the shooting schedule again"

On the con side: the novelization. If there's supposed to be any sort of mystery or suspense around Rogue that would sustain another appearance (and frankly, I don't think "Rogue is trapped on Scary World, but the Doctor saves him" would provide enough narrative thrust on its own. or the necessary relationship conflict, within the structural constraint where a straightforward "happily ever after/domestic bliss" would kind of end the show) - then I don't think we would have gotten this much detailed, unambiguous info about Rogue's thoughts and background and motivations.

Unless: either everything we just learned will be completely irrelevant to future plot twists (which would imply that any coming wrinkles in the story will be more external conflicts than character-driven ones. Less interesting, imo)

Or, everything we just learned is some kind of misdirect

But why would they feel the need to misdirect? If Rogue's story isn't finished yet, then why do the novelization at all? Or why not restrain it to info we already know, or the Doctor's pov only?

Which brings us back to: if the creators assumed that "Rogue is the Master" would be a major fan theory, then how would we expect them to act?

If Rogue isn't the Master, then I would expect them to play up the theory in order to distract from whatever reveal is actually coming.

You could argue that RTD liking the above insta comment would count. But if the goal was to tease the fandom, then one insta like wouldn't exactly be a very public forum for it (compared to, say, those "hee hee, what's with all the 4th wall breaks? What's with Mrs. Flood? Maybe we'll never know 🤭" comments in mainstream outlets)

If Rogue is the Master, and they thought that a significant portion of the fandom already knew that...then I'd probably expect them to throw out some misdirection.

Hey uh, for no particular reason. Remember when Moffat knew perfectly well that "Missy is the Master" would be glaringly obvious, but still wanted the reveal to land with at least some surprise. So he shot a fake scene where Missy goes "I'm the Rani btw 😘" and tried to leak it on purpose

[millerflintstone]

First day!

This shirt is my go-to first day / look presentable on camera shirt.

My laptop is so nice. It's nicer than the one at my last full-time gig, which was the gigantic auto manufacturer that attempted to fuck me over. My boss got me 2 monitors. Like what?! The guy who I'm replacing told her I'd need them. I've gotten used to not using an external monitor at all. I'm very much a mobile laptop kinda gal.

And the goal is to train me but not rush it. I have 12 weeks of training which isn't set in stone in that it could go a bit longer if necessary because the guy isn't retiring until the end of January 2024. What?? People who are actually PLANNING? In advance???? This is so rare for me.

I felt really uneasy at the last gig. With being so burnt out from the health plan company from hell and having all the grief and medical trauma I had not processed, l thought it was just that. I think my body was warning me about that place but I couldn't trust my own signals because I was just a shell of a person. I could feel that I didn't fit but thought it was just the newness of a different industry after almost 2 decades in healthcare.

It wasn't until they did the reorganization that I really knew it was a mistake because that showed how careless/clueless that manager was. He tried to make me responsible for 3 database developer's worth of work when I barely knew the system at 78 days in. Tried to make me responsible for a different application I had no knowledge of to be on-call for it and be the SME. When I mentioned the job was now a very different job than what I interviewed for, his first instinct was to laugh and agree but then tried to save face. I showed him I was not the one.

The music gig is a fit. Totally different industry but I don't feel uneasy there. It's super flexible and a lot of fun for me.

This also feels like a fit in terms of the people I've met so far. I know I've yet to meet the people I don't work with every day and that will really be the telling part. I'm prepared to deal with some annoying bullshit because that's just the nature of dealing with the government aspect of American healthcare .

But yeah, I'm cautiously optimistic about this. It's really rare to find a situation in IT healthcare where you're not thrown into the deep end.

[tickletastic]

Fear Toxin, Love, and Other Sh*tty Drugs

Fandom: DC

Ship: JayRoy

Warnings: canon typical violence, panic attacks (sort of- after effects of fear toxin?)

Summary: Jason and Roy have a rough night out on patrol in Gotham, nothing goes as planned, and an Arkham breakout is just the cherry on top. (not a whole lot of tickling, i got carried away, cross posted to my AO3 bc I planned a second, non-tickly chapter)

The streets of Gotham had not been kind last night.

The previous night started just as expected, a crime syndicate carelessly offloading giant tin shipping containers of the world’s most dangerous weapons, a plan in the works for them to leave them in crime alley, to leave them with the most desperate people in the city and watch Gotham crumble. It was a kid that had tipped Jason off, just some kid with a shitbag dad who thought Jason could save them, thought Jason could save anyone. Jason found out the rest from some of his undercover contacts, who sounded nearly afraid when discussing the kinds of weapons that would soon reach Gotham’s streets. 

Jason was now waiting, impatient and annoyed, on the corner of a tall building, waiting for the right time to jump into action. The building used to have some mom and pop restaurant on the main floor, one that Jason would frequent after long nights of patrol, when he couldn’t drag his body any further. Apartments were above, but they had been condemned at some point after the restaurant closed down. Now, Jason has a safehouse set up in one of the old rooms, and, though he’d never admit it, he uses Wayne funds to stock the old restaurant with frozen pizzas, chips, mac n cheese, and other snacks for the kids that wander by, hoping that they’ll find food somewhere like this. 

Roy is at his back, eating greasy chips from a tupperware container. Jason had insisted that Roy didn’t need a patrol snack, but, after caving in, he made sure, at least, that the snack wouldn’t be so loud. If it weren’t for Roy, Jason would’ve lunged into the action by now, not caring if the syndicate dealt him a broken leg or a dislocated jaw while he took down enough of them to get the weapons somewhere far from here. Roy had always been the patient one, and he manages to keep Jason’s irritability at a low by talking about some book he wanted to read.

The crimes are cresting, the final load now on Gotham’s dock, a sound of trucks in the distance. Now would be the best time, Roy can see every opportunity laid out in front of him, but then Oracle’s voice is ringing out over the comms, panicked and urgent, announcing that tonight, some random fucking night that was just supposed to involve stopping petty robberies and killing a syndicate boss, was the seemingly biannual Arkham breakout. 

Roy and Jason are caught in a heated, whispered debate, Jason thinking they should strike before some goofy D list villain can come interrupt them, but Roy thinks it’s too unpredictable now, that they should return the following week, when Jason knows the syndicate planned to do inventory of their new stash. Jason stands up, Roy grabbing him by the leg of his pants, just as Oracle makes another announcement, the silence between Roy and Jason so tense that it could be broken in half. Roy’s heart started to beat faster, his palms suddenly sweaty where he gripped his bow, the world around them suddenly a cacophony of noise. In spite of the precautions, the two-foot thick concrete walls, and the fucking manual entry external lock system for the cell, he had gotten out too. 

Jason tensed, but otherwise showed no emotion towards the situation– no reaction to the fact that the man who killed him is roaming the same Gotham streets that he is. It was always like this when it came to the Joker, Jason always tensed up and pushed people away, claiming he’s okay until the second he’s not.

Bruce had a protocol for this exact situation– Jason would be moved to Star City, or JL Tower, or Central City, or even the Amazons– just as far as Bruce could get him as quickly as possible. Then, Tim would find Bruce, Duke, or Steph, and stick to them like glue. Damian was expected to find Dick and stick by his side, but that was more of a formality of the plan, since Damian was usually glued to Dick’s side on patrol anyways.

Jason had never been aware of the plan, too stubborn to ever leave in the face of danger, too eager to throw himself back into fear. Sometimes, Wally would come, taking Jason back to Dick’s apartment in Bludhaven despite Jason’s displeasure and squirming. Sometimes, it would be Diana, or “Aunt Di,” as the Robins had always called her, and Jason couldn’t help but agree to whatever she asked, still awestruck by her presence. One, it was even Hal and Barry, Barry gushing about having gone back in time and seeing a Shakespeare play at the Globe. Usually, though, it was Roy calling Jason, coaxing him back to Star City by faking some non-emergent emergency or begging for Jason to help Lian with a spelling test. Usually it was Roy, but Roy was in Gotham tonight. Roy was in Gotham and he would have to physically pry Jason from the roof to get him to give up the sting he had been planning, and there would be nothing that would convince him that his life, his sanity, might be more important for the time being. 

Nothing except for Oracle’s frantic voice, followed by Nightwing’s– Red Robin hasn’t reported, and nobody’s seen him for at least half an hour, caught up in the noise of the Arkham breakout. They have no clue where he is, and, before Oracle can formulate a plan, or even examine the situation with his non-functioning tracker, Jason is hastily grappling from building to building, searching the database in his helmet for a list of every abandoned warehouse in Gotham. 

The communications system is entirely silent, creeping on as each of the bats scramble to understand where Red Robin would have gone, how they had managed to lose track of him for so long. Roy gives panting, out-of-breath updates periodically, telling of the buildings Jason has checked, falling behind as Jason throws himself from rooftop to rooftop. 

Oracle’s gasp rings out over the speakers, hollow and practically shouting, “we have CCTV! The car manufacturing place on the East Side, the corner of 2nd and Church– Hood is the closest!”

“No!” Bruce shouts over the comms, the worried ebb in his voice coming out more like Bruce than Batman, “Signal and I are not much further, we’re on our way.” 

“Absolutely not, 30 minutes is more than enough time for the clown. I’m not letting another fucking Robin die tonight,” Jason grits, hauling ass towards the building as soon as he can see it, the car company’s logo practically decaying, peeling off the building’s facade. 

“Arsenal, do not let Red Hood enter,” Bruce grits over the line, a hardened command, before his voice softens, “please, don’t let him go in.”

Bruce sounds the most scared Roy has ever heard him, and Roy is terrified. He’s desperately trying to keep up with Jason, throwing himself recklessly over the edges of roofs and down rusty fire escapes, but the distance keeps growing. 

“Jay, I can’t keep up,” Roy shouts, a desperate tone, almost a plea, “Jason Peter Todd, you better not go in without me, you better fuckin’ not.”

“It’s him or me,” Jason grunts, “it’s him or me, and I’m not letting him kill another fucking kid.” 

Jason disappears from Roy’s vision, dropping from the sky, and Roy curses, desperately trying to catch up. When he finally drops from the roofs himself, Jason isn’t there, and the door to the warehouse is wide open, dented where a heavy boot kicked it in. Roy rushes in, zeroing in on the direction of the noises he’s hearing– loud clanging and snotty begging– but there’s another door in the way, another door between him, Jason, Tim, and the monster.

“Fuck- fuck! Jason, let me in!” He screams, throwing his body against the door, desperately trying to make a dent as he bangs and kicks and yells. Over the comms, his own voice, shaky and desperate, shouts to the bats, “he’s in there! He’s fucking in there and I can’t get in, I don’t know what’s happening!”

Roy isn’t calm enough to hear any of the responses, breathing heavily, fighting the encroaching panic. He takes one of his explosive arrows, backing up until he thinks he’ll be able to take the door off its hinges with his shot. He lines it up, shaking in spite of all the practice he’s had, all the years he’s spent protecting himself, protecting Jason. There’s a thick thud heard from the other side of the door, and a staticky buzzing playing out in the building, and Roy sees plumes of smoke seep out from the door’s cracks, he hears maniacal laughter announcing itself, the sound of metal dragging on concrete. 

“Jason, if you can hear me, tell me if there’s someone on the other side of this door,” Roy tries to sound commanding, supportive, but his voice is betraying him, hoarse as he shouts, “Jason, I’m going to blow this thing to shreds, I need you to fucking answer me!”

There’s crashing on the other side of the door, noises that sound pained, gasps and shouts and pleas. Roy starts screaming Jason’s name again and again, desperately hoping he has clearance to blow the door to pieces. He finally backs up, aiming again at the rusted, bolted door, when it swings open, Roy hearing the voice over his comms and in person simultaneously. 

“We’ve got them,” Nightwing announces, and he emerges with Tim over his shoulder, gas masks on both of their faces. Despite the masks, Tim looks less than conscious, slack where he hangs over his older brother’s shoulder.

“Where the fuck is Jason?” Roy asks, shaky and scared, caught somewhere between vomiting or hyperventilating, “please, Dick, please don’t tell me-”

Bruce emerges, the sweat on his face visible between the cowl and his own air mask, one arm under Jason’s knees and the other under his back. Unlike Tim, Jason’s eyes are wide open, frantic, while he shakes violently in Bruce’s grip, muttering horrified under his breath. 

“Why isn’t he wearing a mask? Dick, why isn’t Jason wearing a mask?” Roy shouts, hysterical, “Jason, Jace, are you okay? What the fuck happened?”

When Roy approaches, Jason flinches away with a piercing scream, fighting desperately to get out of Bruce’s grip, seemingly terrified. 

“It was fear toxin, Arsenal,” Bruce responds with a grunt, working hard to keep Jason in his grasp, “Jason was given a direct dose, the mask wouldn’t have helped.”

“What the fuck will help? He looks terrified, what is he seeing? What did that fucker do to him? Where the fuck is he?”

Dick takes a second to turn around, having begun making his way to the front door, “Arsenal, the Joker’s dead.”

Roy just gapes, obediently following Bruce and Dick out the door, hoping to god that the bat won’t use this as another opportunity to ice Jason out, hoping the bats have some hidden remedy to Jason’s current paranoia.

The Batmobile awaits them outside when they get out, the Gotham streets feeling quieter than they had when Roy entered, his heart beating in his ears. The Batmobile is small on the best of days, but Roy ends up taking Damian back to the docks and equipping him with enough padding for a skydiving mission, strapping him securely to the back of Jason’s motorcycle before climbing on. Jason would never forgive him if he left the bike in crime alley anyways, knowing a bit too much about crime alley kids and their penchant for stealing expensive tires.

By the time the two are back at the manor, Tim and Jason are in separate medical rooms, Tim out cold, hooked up to machines galore, and Jason fighting with everything left in him to escape the room. He still has the same terrified look in his eyes, and he’s begging, over and over, not to die, crying for help as if he’s back in Ethiopia. 

Roy can hear Bruce trying to shush him, saying comforting, paternal things in Jason’s ear in spite of the physical force he’s using to keep Jason in the room. “You’re not there, Jay. You’re home, you’re with your dad.”

In spite of the comfort, Jason keeps thrashing, tears freely streaming down his face. Roy looks on from outside for a moment, scared that he’ll make it all worse for Jason if he tries to intervene. 

Roy visibly jumps when a voice sounds from next to him, turning to see Dick, discowled but otherwise still in his costume, his brow furrowed, “we gave him the antidote, but it’s going to take a couple hours. The Joker gave him three times what Scarecrow would have, and strapped the mask to his face so he’d have to breathe it all in.”

“Fuck,” Roy sighs, rubbing over his face with one of his hands, “there’s nothing we can do until then? We can’t just let him go through this.”

Dick sighs, mirroring Roy’s tense expression, “Bruce is trying, I’ve tried, you can give it a shot? Maybe you’ll be able to remind him he’s older than he was back then, that might break the illusion, at least a little bit.”

“Okay, yeah,” Roy says, dropping his hands to his sides, “yeah, I’ll try.”

Dick gives him a reassuring pat on the back before entering the room, dropping his voice to say something hushed to Bruce. Bruce nods, turning to glance at Roy, exhaustion written all over his face. He motions for Roy to enter, and, once he’s sure Roy could hold his own, exits with Dick. 

“Hey, Jay,” Roy says, just above a whisper, “Jay, it’s Roy.” 

Jason is silent now, entire body shaking violently, entire face painted with terror. He’s got a thousand yard stare, seemingly aware that someone is in the room, but looking past Roy. 

“I’m going to come closer, Jason,” Roy announces, stepping towards Jason as if he were some scared animal, because, in some way, he is.

Roy is afraid to touch Jason, afraid that it would trigger him to fight off whatever the hallucinations are making Roy look like. What does he do when Lian’s scared? How does he get her back to sleep when she thinks there’s something lurking in the darkness of the bedroom?

Roy tries to touch Jason as little as possible, maneuvering him so he’s at least close to the edge of the bed. He then rounds the bed to the other side, dropping the weird hospital handle softly so it doesn’t block his way, lying down on one side. He laughs a bit to himself under his breath, trying to shed the shyness from the possibility that one of the other nosy bats could walk in at any time. 

Softly, just loud enough to break the room’s silence, Roy starts to sing Total Eclipse of the Heart, melodic and sweet, like he would sing to Lian when she got scared and crawled between him and Jason in their bed. Roy gets through three quarters of the song before he notices Jason’s shoulders are no longer tensed, that he’s leaning against the bed voluntarily.

Just as Roy is about to start his lullaby rendition of Faithfully, Jason slumps, turning his head. His face is still covered in nervous sweat, and Roy still gets a sense that Jason is not really seeing him, but Jason tries for a hoarse whisper, “R-roy?”

Roy reaches out carefully, easing Jason so his back is on the bed, so he can maneuver them so Roy is holding him, Jason’s head listening to Roy’s heartbeat. “It’s me, Jaybird. Just close your eyes, it’ll all be over soon.” 

Roy feels the spot Jason occupies on his chest getting damp, and starts to run a hand up and down Jason’s back. “I c-can’t stop seeing him. He’s here, he’s g-going to kill me.”

Roy shakes his head, though Jason doesn’t see it, “he can’t hurt you, Jay. He’s gone, and I’d never let him.”

Roy is not entirely sure if Jason believes him, not sure if Jason even knows where he is, but he keeps singing until Jason is shaking a little less, until his breathing has evened out and the spot on his shirt starts to dry. 

When Jason wakes up the next morning, feeling like he has the worst hangover of his life, he coughs hard and long until he’s being manhandled upright, a glass brought to his lips. Dick is helping him drink before passing him a handful of pills. Jason has no clue what any of them are, just that he’ll swallow all of them dry if it means he won’t have to deal with the headache and the nausea anymore. Instead, he feels almost instant drowsiness, and he falls asleep yet again. 

The next time he wakes up, the pain is mostly gone, though there’s something foggy in how he’s perceiving everything around him. He hoists himself up so that he can see the entire room, sitting on the edge of the bed. Sitting with his legs open on the floor, facing the bed, is Roy, reading Jason’s well-worn copy of Pride and Prejudice. 

“Didn’t know you knew how to read,” Jason tries to joke, but his voice doesn’t work the way he wanted it to, coming out garbled and hoarse. “What the fuck happened to me?”

Roy looks up, a soft smile on his lips when he sees how different Jason is from last night, “you don’t remember?” 

“Ran into a warehouse,” Jason shrugs.

“And after that?”

“Not a lick.”

To Jason, Roy has a weird glint in his eye, a slight strain in his brow, “I honestly think that’s for the best, Jaybird.” 

Jason rolls his eyes, sore as he picks himself up from the bed. He goes to where Roy is sitting and plops himself in between his boyfriend’s legs, his back to Roy’s chest. “You know, it’s pretty fucked up not to tell me what I experienced first-hand.”

It's Roy’s turn, now, to roll his eyes. He sighs, putting Jason’s book off to the side and hugging Jason tight, his chin on Jason’s shoulder, “it was fear toxin. Fear toxin, you, Tim, and the Joker.”

“Fuck,” Jason sighs, “of fucking course it was.”

“You’re fine, Tim’s fine, everything is alright,” Roy says, running soft fingers through Jason’s hair, curly and unruly from his sleep. 

Jason turns his head to the side, making quick, anxious eye contact with Roy, “I think I’ll take your word for it.” 

“You better.” Roy has a mischievous smile on his face, one that Jason can’t see, but he senses the shift in tone, feels Roy’s fingers migrating down to his tummy. He’d rather huff fear toxin for a second, even third time than admit it, but sometimes, when he feels the fear thrumming in his veins, feels like if he’s not touching Roy then he’ll disappear, that he’ll be underground at 15 again, he yearns for Roy’s soft fingers, his teasing touch that ebbs all the fear from Jason’s system. 

When the fingers start to move, Jason doesn’t even try to hold back, giggling freely into the sleeve of the old Gotham Academy hoodie he’d been put into sometime last night. Roy’s fingers tickle in teasing circles around his belly button, clawing at the skin. 

“C’mon,” Roy says, his voice dripping with the sickeningly sweet softness he always showed Jason at times like this, times when Jason would just accept it rather than prickling away from it, “I want to hear you.”

Jason blushes a light pink, his face heating up, but he moves his hands from his face in favour of lightly grasping Roy’s wrists. “Yohou’re a dick!”

“Oh am I?” Roy’s voice rumbles in Jason’s ear and Jason squeaks, throwing his head back. Roy is grinning so hard it almost hurts, and he kisses the top of Jason’s forehead. Jason scrunches his nose, shaking his head back and forth. 

Roy leaves soft kisses down Jason’s neck, his hands moving up to draw soft shapes over Jason’s sides. Jason’s giggles are bubbly and uninhibited, letting Roy explore. He starts to squirm when Roy’s fingers nearly reach his ribs, scratching just below and eliciting a snort and an embarrassed whine. 

Jason leaves his neck wide open, and Roy takes the opportunity to give him a raspberry, Jason kicking his legs out with a squeal, on the verge of real laughter. Roy makes sure his fingers stay just soft enough, his lips just teasing enough, to have Jason giggling himself silly, happily leaning in to the redhead.  

Roy’s fingers slow a bit, wanting Jason to hear everything he’s about to whisper, “you don’t even know how fuckin’ glad I am that you’re alright.”

Jason’s blush grows hotter, feeling another wave of shyness creeping up. He moves his head to give Roy a kiss on the cheek, his boyfriend’s blush almost matching his, just to even the playing field and all. “I’m soho glad you’re hehere.”

Roy smiles before leaning in for a proper kiss, his fingers just barely grazing over Jason’s sensitive spots. When they both pull away, breathless and awestruck, they’re wearing matching goofy grins, Jason still giggling under his breath. 

Jason spots his book again and uses the very tips of his fingers to pull it close enough for him to pick up. He places it into one of Roy’s hands, smiling mischievously at Roy’s confusion. “Nohow read to mehe, asshole!”

[craomy]

The Little Mermaid! Azul Ashengrotto x Yuu (Part 1/3)

Prompt: The story follows a plotline similar to The Little Mermaid. Down in the depths of the Kingdom of Atlantica, Yuu is known as the treasured daughter of the Sea King. Azul has disguised himself as Vance (Like Vanessa in the movie) in order to strike a deal with Prince Elias (Prince Eric) on a traveling ship as a human and Yuu is captivated. When the ship gets caught in a terrible storm, Yuu saves Azul and he’s unable to get her singing voice out of his head but doesn’t know who it is. When Yuu comes to Azul for a contract for her to become a human, he doesn’t realize that she was the one who saved him until after she obtains her legs. Now it’s up to Azul to come up with a plan to stop a romance caused by a misunderstanding.

Author’s Note: This story has a total of around 18k words, so I thought it would be easier to read if I broke it up into three parts. 

Part 1: You’re reading it! :)

Part 2: Here!

Part 3: Here!

            There was a lighthearted atmosphere to the sailing ship. Fireworks burst in the night sky, plentiful cheers, and instruments being played by those full of merry. The liveliness was almost contagious, but not enough to impress Azul who watched the drunk men carry on in their festivities. He had made preparations beforehand, and his disguise would not be easily detected, but it is said that the way the world looks changes depending on one's perspective. The same could also be true of appearances. Instead of his cool light-grey wavy hair, it was a dark brown one, as well as his darker silvery eyes hidden behind a violet hue. Of course, this was a temporary look, at least one that may hide his true identity as the powerful and benevolent Sea Sorcerer. His beauty mark was nowhere to be seen, concealed and absent for the sake of not giving away the signature look. At least he had kept his glasses, though they are now circular framed due to the fashion of the time and that things could be quite blurry at a distance without them.

            Floyd and Jade on the other hand are acting as Azul’s bodyguards, ensuring their boss’ safety in case any event were to happen. Oftentimes there are scuffles if a client is upset with the terms of agreements, and having loyal subordinates are quite helpful in attaining more contracts. Either way, Azul is sure to be successful in capturing the perfect opportunity for business. Unlike Azul, Prince Elias, a brash man that was next in line for the throne, is not as serious as Azul about the potential benefits he could reap from their current discussions. His playful foolishness is not something Azul wishes to involve himself with any further than he needs to, but Prince Elias is quite the insistent one.

            “Vance! Get over here you party pooper! You should listen more about how Princess of Glowerhaven and I spent the night together,” Prince Elias lightly slapped the back of Azul’s shoulder while firmly grabbing onto him to bring him closer. A bit alert but slightly annoyed after the surprise, Azul maintained his composure and stood tall, clearing his throat to call attention to himself.

            “Ahem, I understand that you are quite the… woman charmer as you say. However, I have no interest in your external affairs.” Azul attempted to say in a polite yet stern voice, almost in a disgusted manner while carefully picking Prince Elias’ hands off of his shoulder by each finger. He averted his gaze to make eye contact with Jade and Floyd, hoping they’d catch his drift while he keeps up a friendly charade with his potential contractor. The close stench of liquor from the prince had reeked, and once again Azul is quick to maintain his distance.

            The night is young and many of the men on board were partying to their heart's content. The firework show continued to light the night sky and had certainly caught the attention of a young mermaid, the youngest daughter of the Sea King. You see, Yuu is labeled as the rebellious daughter by her father, but in her eyes, she saw it as being curious and adventurous. Life under the sea was amazing and all, but she yearned for the things she didn’t know about above and on the surface. Her father, the Sea King, was very strict with how he dealt with his daughter all for the sake of her own safety. Ever since the Sea Queen was hunted down for her beautiful scales and voice, there were rules that were set in order to keep the merpeople and the humans from mixing like oil and water. This, however, had only further piqued Yuu’s interest. She’s captivated by the foreign illuminations and was quick to show her amazement to her best friend, Grim, who is tasked to stay by her side.

            “Yuu, what are you…” Grim’s head raised above the water trying to understand why Yuu was so distracted and gasped when seeing the unfamiliar large ship in the distance, “Jumpin’ jellyfish! What is going on over there?” the little seal’s jaw dropped. Yuu had never seen anything like it. It was so close, yet for every moment she waited, the boat continued to create its distance. 

            “Well, we’ll just have to find out Grim!” and without hesitation, Yuu swam with her glistening tail that gleamed under the moon to the exciting scene. Climbing aboard the ship from one of the astray ropes, Yuu propped herself and Grim to watch intently from the deck while remaining hidden.

            Yuu’s eyes panned the unfamiliar environment and saw some humans celebrating with each other, whether it was by playing instruments or moving their feet to the music. There was one figure in particular that caught the little mermaid’s eye and it was a human who appeared to be forced to dance with one of the other men. With dark brown hair and violet eyes, the human was quite the gawky dancer who had tried his best to remain serious but to no avail.

            “Hey! Quit this insistence on dancing, Floyd!” Azul ordered in a loud whisper, but the laid-back bodyguard couldn’t help but get a rise out of his boss. 

            “Come on, if you don’t learn how to dance once, you won’t be able to make the most out of those two legs of yours,” Floyd bore a toothy grin, leaving Jade to chuckle on the side due to his brother’s silly antics.

            Yuu couldn’t help but stare at that man for a bit longer than she should. Something about him is different than the other humans, perhaps something is missing in his appearance. The only thing she could think about was how charming the man was, despite not gracefully dancing to the hectic rhythm of the party. “Wow. Would you look at him use his feet, Grim? He’s very handsome, isn’t he?” the girl leaned against the floorboards with a dreamy far-off look, captivated by the sight of the young gentleman. 

            “I don’t know. He looks like he’s too busy getting drunk,” Grim snorted, looking at Prince Elias who is close to tumbling over like a bumbling fool. Yuu scrunched her nose and smiled, and she held onto Grim’s cheeks to bring his attention in the right direction. 

            “No, no, not him. The one with the whatzits on his nose.” Sighing and sinking with her back to the wall, Yuu could only imagine what it would be like if she could join and dance along with the dreamy man. Wishing to see new sights, discover more thingamabobs, and maybe even get closer to finding someone who could understand her and her fascination with this vast world.

            Prince Elias staggered to the side of the boat, startling Yuu and causing her to shy away from the view. Azul followed after, leaning on the railings as he pressed his palm to his chin.

            “Vance… Have you ever thought about being able to meet the right girl? Someone who can really leave a long-lasting impression on you? Someone you can love?” The prince began to slur his words, perhaps a bit tired of sleeping with every maiden in the kingdom given that he’d ask such a question.

            Azul paused for a moment and straightened his posture, adjusting his coat and falling back on a memory that may be close to what was asked. Most of the time he was left in isolation because of his appearance, the mockery of others is what comes first to mind, and even worse, those who only seek him only for the sake of gaining something in return. Even if he wanted something genuine, it may not be possible because of how he kept up his mask from outsiders. It isn’t easy being the oh-so-benevolent Sea Sorcerer when it comes to finding a meaningful relationship.

            “Well, Prince Elias, I have thought about it once or twice but those thoughts have yet to stay afloat when you’ve got a business and corporation to attend to. There’s a tradeoff to everything, and I’m afraid that I bargained for my strong ambition and have to stray away from things that may distract me,” Azul looked out to the current of the waters and saw how his reflection was in disarray in the quick movement of the waves. Who was he kidding? His plans on taking over the kingdom of Atlantica after being ostracized and outcasted for being an octopus are something that still lingers in the back of his mind. This meeting with the humans is just another stepping stone in the grand scheme of events. He needs to remain focused.

            “Ah… Love at first sight? Those are stories told to give children hope. Maybe to even explain why someone may be enticed despite the overlooking real requirements of a connection needing to be mutually beneficial. It’s more complicated than what’s on the outside. Surely even for you, you’d understand that every relationship comes with a price. Even if I do find someone, I’d hope that they’d see me for who I am,” and so Azul began to drown out the sounds around him, thinking about how this was his life’s purpose while hinting at his other possible life beyond being human. To bargain and to exchange. To hold debtors accountable and maybe even have the Seven Seas bow down to him. Yet, even then, love is a commodity that’s hard to obtain.

            Yuu listened to the man’s words carefully and sympathized with him. She wished to give a word or two to cheer him up, but if she were to say anything, she’d expose herself and she’d be a fish out of water. The mermaid had instead begun to pat Grim’s head as she intently took notice of his answer.

            Lightning struck in the distance. A strong gust of wind had gathered and began to cause chaos onboard. Sailors were rushing to get into position to prepare for the hurricane. Azul quickly withdraws from the edge and his eyes darted to Jade and Floyd.

            “Twins! Assist the men with the sails!” he ordered, taking the lead in helping the sailors while Prince Elias is half awake. The men were fighting with the waves, a large one sweeping the deck of the ship with several men defenselessly succumbing to the strength of the body of water. Azul wasn’t one for his brawn, but he had rushed to the wheel of the ship and attempted to steer it in the right direction, feeling as if he was fighting against the winds of the Caspian sea. Yuu saw how he bravely took charge until the currents became too strong and knocked her back into the ocean.

            “Grim! Are you okay?!” she looked around for her precious friend. Amidst the rocky waves, she saw that recognizable ball of fluff pop its head out of the water.

            “I’m okay, but we have to get outta here!” Grim tugged on her tail, but Yuu was too preoccupied with what was happening with the human she had kept an eye on. 

            Lightning struck the sails and was caught ablaze, along with a forceful disturbance to the ground that had caused Azul to lose his footing. The businessman had contemplated whether or not he should risk being caught in his octopus form, but it was too late to decide when the back of his head collided with a heavy broken plank of wood. His glasses were knocked off of his face and his vision began to blur even more as black dots began to dance around his line of sight, losing consciousness as his body plunged into the waters. 

            Yuu gasped and panicked as the ship exploded. Her altruistic nature caused her to move before she could think as she swam to save the fallen man. “Where are you going, Yuu?!” Grim cried out but fell on deaf ears amongst the storm. She dodged and maneuvered around the falling debris, eyes darting around to see any sign of life around. In her peripheral vision, she saw the handsome gentleman grasping onto a floating plank, passed out. Slowly, his grasp began to slip from the board and his body was now consumed and hugged by the empty waters around him. Yuu dove down and grabbed a hold of the man with her arms pulling him up from the chest, losing no time in returning him to the surface.

            Gentle waves crashed onto the shore of the land and returned to their owner, repeatedly and continuously following the same cycle. Azul, disheveled and blacked out, was set on the sand where Yuu had laid him. She held the back of the human’s head and had a hand on his chest, cautiously observing any signs of life. Grim swam closer to the two and was shocked to see the sight.

            “Is he… dead?” Yuu asked as Grim hopped closer to the unconscious human. 

            Grim’s voice wavered with the human’s foot pushed against his ears and shook his head, “I can’t make out a heartbeat…” with a mournful tone.

            “No, look! He’s breathing!” Yuu stared in awe, eyes locked on his resting face. Her hand pushed back the stray strands of hair behind his ear.

            “He’s so beautiful,” she confessed as if it was the ultimate truth. Azul, is handsome, even in disguise. Perhaps this little mermaid could see through him, even if it’s just a little bit, even if they have yet to have a conversation together. She traced her fingers upon his cheek, almost as if she had known him all her life in every scenario.

            “What would I give to live where you are?

            What would I pay to stay here beside you?

            What would I do to see you smiling at me?” 

            Azul shifted slightly, feeling a hand gently placed on top of his chest. This unfamiliar warmth was nothing he’d experienced before. The soft touch of a kind soul, a comforting one at that, had begun to sprout a seedling different from any other within Azul’s chest. There is no panic in his awakening, only serenity, and peace.

            “Where would we walk?

            Where would we run?

            If we could stay all day in the sun?”

            The Sea Sorcerer needed to find this ray of light. Half-awake yet conscious, he had reached a hand out to the tranquil voice, grabbing hold of a smaller hand that rested on his cheek.

            “Just you and me

            And I could be

            Part of your world.”

            The gentleman's eyes fluttered open, seeing a blurry figure of a woman who stared deep into his soul. The melody of her singing had struck a chord within him, a tune that lingered in the passage of his once solemn thoughts.

            “Heyyyy! Where are youuuuu?” Floyd’s disconcerting call had caused the figure in front of Azul to quickly depart to avoid being discovered. The pleasant atmosphere had now died down with the waves crashing onto the shore once again, but this time, as a sign of applause for the performance that it had witnessed.

            Azul stared at his now empty hand, not minding that Jade and Floyd had finally found him washed up on the sand.

            “There you are, Azul. We were worried sick.” Jade gave his signature polite smile while leaning over Azul as he lay on the sand.

            “You don’t look that worried, Jade.” the gentleman slowly sat up, wiping sand off of his clothes despite not actually cleaning himself from such particles. That’s right. He needed to continue conducting his work. Both of the twins stayed by his side as a reminder of that, for they needed someone interesting to follow. The angelic singing had still rung through his ears, echoing the last bit of traces of the person who had saved him. He felt indebted to the voice, feeling as if he had been given temporary shelter and then taken away to return to what was before. Even so, his body felt at ease after the beautiful singing.

            “What a peculiar thing.” Azul was now interested.

            The Octotrio had returned to the depths of the ocean. There has been hot news that the Sea King’s most beloved and youngest daughter failed to show up for her musical debut in the high Atlantica society. As an outcast whose been exiled, this hasn’t been too much of a great concern for Azul. Though, gathering intel and information on how others may be despairing is exactly what he needs in order to give his customers what they wish for. Having returned to his octopus mer-form, Azul had carefully watched his magical crystal with careful eyes, observing the sights that Floyd and Jade are collecting for him. He had initially sent them off to find out more information or possible clues to the owner of the voice who had saved him previously, but now a greater fish to catch was now at his hands.

            Displayed through the looking glass was a sorrowful, susceptible, and vulnerable mermaid. As Azul’s silvery hues examined the little mermaid in his crystal ball, he couldn’t help but notice what a catch this customer will be.

            “So this is Yuu, the daughter of the Sea King? The rumored headstrong and lovesick girl?” he peers at his garden of anemones, the lot of poor unfortunate souls who couldn’t keep up the end of their bargain. He turned back to take another look at Yuu. With the beautiful scales on her tail, it was clear as a shard of sea glass that she was of noble origins. This is proof that even someone of high esteem has their own problems.

            “She would be the loveliest of them all. This is a little bit too easy for me, Floyd, and Jade.” Azul chuckled to himself quietly. Finally, the perfect opportunity to snatch the crown away from the king. The chance he may never get again in his lifetime. The octopus quickly devised a brief plan. Once the little mermaid is bound to him by contract, he’ll take the upper hand and use her as a bargaining chip against the Sea King. How could the king refuse? The safety of his most loved daughter comes first before his crown. Love takes sacrifice.

            At the entrance of Azul’s lair swam an oh-so-familiar mermaid along his loyal eels escorting his catch straight to his plate. Speak of the devil and she shall appear, he thought. She was much prettier in person, as rumors say, and she certainly has his attention. The apprehensive look on her face was evident as she swam above the garden of unfortunate souls.

            “Welcome, Angelfish.” Azul’s voice echoed through the eerie chamber, “Don’t be shy. It’s rude to leave someone waiting.” Climbing out of a large seashell, the octopus made his presence known as his body flowed with his movements. Yuu nervously gulped as she approached the rumored Sea Sorcerer, and Azul took note of her behavior with a chuckle. Oh, how easy it will be to exploit this girl, he thought. The boundless amount of opportunities will only continue to expand if things go according to plan.

            “Now, then, the reason you’re here today is that you’ve fallen in love with a human. He must be a catch if he’s piqued your interest.” Azul absent-mindedly guessed, love being the game he most often participated in pulling the strings. Usually, it’s one who wants to become thinner and another one wanting to win over the girl– and did he help them? Yes, indeed.

            “He’s just so interesting. I really want to learn more about him. There are a lot of things I want to discover up on the surface as well–”

            “Yes, yes. You’ve got yourself an appetite for the unknown. Instead of a wager, how about we make a deal, yes?” Azul interrupted, a bit too excited about taking advantage of the situation.

            “The only way to get what you want is to become human yourself,” the octopus lifted Yuu’s face by the chin with his finger.

            “Can you really do that?” the mermaid gave a look of surprise and pondered with astonishment.

            “Why of course. I’ve been fair with no foul plays. They don’t call me Azul Ashengrotto for nothing, Angelfish. Helping unfortunate merfolk like yourself is simply what I’m called to do,” he proudly claimed, keeping his posture and maintaining steady eye contact with his sincere client. 

            “Some merfolk say that you don’t exactly keep your promises. How can I trust your word?” Yuu asked with some suspicion. He chuckled inwardly.

            “Come on, I know you need a little magic and magic is my specialty du jour,” the cunning man twirled around the little mermaid with his tentacles. Yuu didn’t realize how much larger the Sea Sorcerer appeared until he got closer. A part of her screams that she should be intimidated, but the grief of her grotto being destroyed by her enraged father was stronger to overpower the adrenaline that was commanding her to swim away.

            “Don't just stand there looking sick. Would I kid you? Play a trick? Like I told you, I don't do that anymore, ” Azul began to open his cauldron, causing the jaws of the pot to release, emitting a soft light for both of the merfolk to pay attention to. The Sea Sorcerer continued to keep a poised expression on his princess, sliding a few side eyes to Floyd and Jade to poke some hints of future trickery.

            “Listen to this darling, I will make you a potion that will turn you into a human for three days. Three and only three days,” Azul’s tentacles had gently ushered and pushed Yuu near his potion cauldron. He quickly directed Yuu’s attention to his face with his hand that held a grip on her chin. Seeing her up close, he analyzed her face in his hands, a moment where his intense gaze met her determined eyes.

            “Before the sun sets on the third day, you’ve got to have this human fall in love with you,” he put a hand to his chin, “he’s got to kiss you, but not just any kiss.” The cauldron arose with an image of a heart rotating in place. “It must be a kiss of true love. If he does kiss you before the sun sets on the third day, you’ll remain human permanently,” an illusion of Yuu’s human self freely walking above the pot. “But if he doesn’t, you’ll turn back into a mermaid…” Azul captured the illusion with his hands in a strong grasp. He leaned forward to Yuu and held her wrist by his tentacle, yanking her close to his body, not minding the close proximity because the thrill of securing this deal was much more important than how he was feeling.

            “You’ll belong to me!” he chuckled, giving a mischievous laugh. The thought of having Yuu to be under his control didn’t sound that bad of an idea. He’d be able to sit on the throne and terrorize those who mocked him and maybe keep Yuu by his side. Daughter of the Sea King, it’s a rare commodity.

            Grim opened his mouth to object for his friend, but was quickly silenced by the Leech twins. “Shhh… We don’t want to disturb them, do we, Azarashi-chan?”

            “Have we got ourselves a deal, Angelfish?” Azul inquired, examining the mermaid’s facial features very carefully. How will she react? What will she do? Is she going to beg and plead? It would be a sight to see the Sea King grovel and ask for forgiveness for his daughter’s sake.

            “If I become human… I might have a chance to see that gentleman I saw above shore again,” she softly spoke. Azul raised his eyebrow. Instead of worrying for her family and friends, she’d rather gamble her life on something so unpredictable as luck. What strategy or plan does she have if her plans to swoon the man she wants don’t turn out right? It’s almost too easy for Azul. It’s two fish with one stone.

            “How fascinating. You truly are willing to risk it all for a man you hardly met? Do you even know this man’s name?”

            “Yes, his name is–”

            “On second thought, maybe I don’t want to hear it.” Azul interrupted. The thought of a beautiful mermaid-like her throwing her life away to some guy just doesn’t sit right with him. However, knowing this mystery guy’s name is not necessary, anyways. If things go according to plan, then she won’t even end up with him. “We haven’t discussed the subject of the payment. You can’t exactly get something from nothing, can we? I won’t ask for much. Just a token really, a trifle. You’ll never even miss it,” Azul lifts Yuu’s face once again with his finger.

            “What I want from you is… your voice.”

            Yuu pressed a hand to her throat. Word has gotten around that she hadn’t been at her debut, but to think that she’d have to give up one of the very precious gifts she had. She wasn’t left with many options. Her hopes had been dashed with her father previously and there was no one who could really comprehend why she found beauty in the human world.

            “So I think you ought to take my little bargain. Yes, I think you ought to make my little deal. Sure, it's hard to leave your life, but you could be a charmer’s wife. Why don't you let me take that dream, and make it real?” Azul threw many potions into the pot, causing multiple fumes to arise and explode with its exotic ingredients. He’s never had a better moment like this. After all, he has to put on an impressive show to the sweet princess of what he’s capable of doing.

            “Come on, you poor unfortunate soul. Poor doll! Poor fish! Aren't you glad you brought your problem to a man that you can trust? Won't you let me grant your wish?” Azul’s a very busy person and he hasn’t got all day. It won’t cost much…just Yuu’s voice!

            “You poor unfortunate soul! Poor sweet! Poor dear! Aren't you lucky that I'm ready with a potion and a plan? Aren't you glad you came and asked if I could help you? And I can!”

            A golden scroll had appeared from thin air, the luminosity glowing in an ever-so-taunting way. Yuu couldn’t make much of what was said on the contract but the last few words were written big and bold, “for all of eternity” with an empty signature slot.

            “When a mermaid comes to Ashengrotto…he has just one demand!” the octopus’ eyes widened greatly, and the circumstances were just right. His contributions, her desperate yearning, the strings beginning to attach to Azul’s fingertips, almost feeling Atlantica in the palm of his hands!

            “You poor,” Yuu grabbed the pen.

            “Unfortunate!” Azul grinned, almost madly.

            “Soullllll~!”

            It was already too late. The moment Yuu finished writing her name in elegant cursive, Azul had eagerly clutched the shining scroll and it disappeared without a trace.

            “It’s a deal!” 

            For a moment, Yuu for some strange reason had accepted what may come. She was prepared if she could see that man up on the shore once again. The Sea Sorcerer must know what he’s doing, so it’s going to be okay… right?

            The Sea Sorcerer recollected himself after safely securing the contract. Now everything will go according to his plans. As Azul began to chant the spell, he ushered the little mermaid, to sing for him. It's the final piece that he needs in order to have the upper hand in the deal. Thoughts of possibly having Yuu’s voice replay her soft pleas to the Sea King are sure to be a sight! Everything he’s ever worked for has finally felt like he’s going to get what he deserved… or so he thought.

            The moment Yuu began to sing, a chord was struck within Azul again. For a second, he felt enchanted, and he left his guard down when he heard the girl’s voice. 

            There’s no mistaking it. 

            The voice that he was hearing in front of him belonged to the one that saved him. 

            Azul’s shoulders were no longer tense and his cunning smile had faded to an almost dazed look. Yuu’s voice was extracted by the magic and had been transferred to a nautilus shell that Azul had held in his hand.

            Instead of laughing in victory, Azul had his thoughts flooded with his feelings clashing against his plans. Oh no, he thought to himself. In exchange for Yuu’s voice, her glimmering tail had begun to undergo a transformation into legs. There wasn’t enough time for Azul to think, she was becoming a human too soon!

            “Floyd! Jade! Take Yuu to the surface, quickly!” Azul ordered with a hint of desperation. The twins had been shocked for a moment that they’d be tasked with doing something nice for the girl, but continued to follow instructions while releasing Grim to swim to the girl. The baby seal had coughed and sighed in relief for air, but then regained his strength.

            “You better not be tricking Yuu, you hear me?!” the little seal hollered at Azul, only to regret his words a little bit later once Azul had grabbed Grim with his tentacles and brought him near his pot.

            “It seems I must change my plans. If she was the one, that means you were probably there too,” Azul muttered to himself and bit his nail on his thumb, thinking about how he can have Grim assist Yuu. Assisting Yuu? Why in the Seven Seas am I thinking about doing something out of goodwill…

            Azul’s tentacles were already moving on their own to create another potion for Grim. Yes, I’ll turn him into a cat so that he can guide her, he thought. Grim yelped as his tail also began to transform, forced to swim to the surface for air.

            “What have I done?…” once the room was empty and it was just the Sea Sorcerer, he cursed the Sevens for having the girl who saved him being the one he made a contract with. He held the glowing nautilus shell in his palm, listening to the remnants of Yuu’s singing play back to his ears, just like how it did when he was on shore. Floyd and Jade shortly returned to Azul’s chambers.

            “Azulll, why’dya have to make us take her up there?” Floyd complained, rubbing his arm.

            “It is quite strange. Why the change of heart?” Jade inquired with a hand on his chest.

            Azul turned away from the twins, not quite sure why he ordered that. Should he tell them what happened after the storm? If he doesn’t, then they might not understand where he’s getting at. He’s never been interested in a girl like this before.

            “This was an unfortunate turn of events, and I’m afraid I may have to get involved more than I should.” the octopus alluded, swimming around his cauldron to gather more ingredients.

            “How so? This is no different than the other love contracts you’ve helped with.” Jade commented.

            “This is different Jade.” Azul managed to string his words together, “the human that she fell in love with was…me.”

            …

            There was a moment of silence between the three of them. Floyd couldn’t contain his laughter after hearing that. Not too long after that Jade also started to laugh. Azul, feeling incredibly embarrassed after saying something so preposterous, felt that he need to explain himself.

            “I’m serious! Oh, I’ve greatly miscalculated what I needed to do.” He repeatedly tapped the side of his head, “Ever since she saved me from the shipwreck, I couldn’t get her voice out of my head! Curse this all…” he was conflicted with what he should do. He thought he had everything laid out ready for him, but the thought of Yuu waltzing on land with someone else who isn’t him had upset him even more.

            Jade swam in front of the octopus to take a look at his face, “Azul, what are you talking about?”

            “…Should I just wait for the three days to be over? No– no, she could possibly fall in love with someone else during that time.” Azul started to ramble to himself as he thought about what he should do next.

            “Jade, I think he’s finally lost it.” Floyd nudged their boss, but to no avail, he didn’t move.

            After coming to his senses, Azul managed to explain the whole situation to the twins, about how he was knocked out during the storm, and the voice that saved him was one he was looking for earlier, not realizing or noticing why he had been caring more about this than he should. In the end, Azul started to act alone on his own accord. Despite all of this going against what he believed, he can’t help but think that he needs to take proper responsibility, at least to clear up the misunderstanding. The twins understand that he won’t be at ease if things are left on their own.

            I can’t believe I’m doing this, Azul prepared a potion for him to become human as well.

            “Yes, after all, this is all merely a part of my design. I’ll be going in and about, let all of her time run out, and long before she’s his she will be mine.”

            Slowly emerging from the waters, Azul had fixed his coat and stood tall and confident not too far from Yuu who had managed to cover herself with a torn sail around her body, which hardly even complimented the shape of her figure. Grim yelped, a bit alarmed that Azul would come up to the surface. After all, he is a sketchy businessman known as the infamous Sea Sorcerer.

            “Ah, I forgot,” Azul offered his hand to the helpless Yuu that struggled to stand with her brand-new pair of legs, “I’ll teach you how to walk like a human. This way, you’ll be able to blend in with the people in no time.” He was no different from her when he first learned to gain the ability to walk on two feet. Thankfully the twins weren’t there, or not they wouldn’t shut up about his previous struggles adjusting to his human form. 

            Trembling knees like a newborn fawn, Yuu stumbled forward into Azul’s arms. Instead of getting frustrated, she showed pure adoration for this brand-new experience. It’s obvious that the sheltered princess would take this opportunity and enjoy every moment of it. She looked down at her now-standing feet and then back up at Azul with a proud innocent grin. It’s kind of endearing to see, Azul thought with his business smile on his face. Although they were close in proximity, he quickly set an appropriate distance between their bodies and cleared his throat.

            He held one hand in his and his other on the other side of her waist. “Now then,” Azul gently pulled her forward so she can instinctively use her feet to prevent herself from falling once again, “we’ll begin step by step.” 

            “You got this, Yuu! If I can do it, then you can too!” Grim pranced around in his new form as he ran around, eventually wandering off to somewhere else on the beach.

            Something about her unadulterated excitement for simple things such as walking had been enough to make Azul feel a bit softer than usual. He felt a twinge of guilt, seeing how delighted Yuu was with him in his company already with trust. After a few more moments of walking together, it seemed that Yuu was ready to walk a bit faster. The Sea Sorcerer slowly released the girl from his grasp and the girl appeared more gorgeous to him than before. Her eyes lit up as she took a few steps backward confidently on her own. The man watched with a steady gaze, feeling a sense of pride that she was able to learn so quickly. Yuu beamed, then attempted to spin around in a circle but had gotten too caught up in her elation that she missed a step of her own.

            “Careful!” Azul quickly rushed forward and caught Yuu by the waist, leaning more forward than he should’ve, leaving the awed girl to stare into his silvery eyes for a bit longer than she should’ve. The man gulped, not quite sure how he could play off the situation smoothly without stuttering or skipping a word. The longer he watched her, the more he began to appreciate her presence and be warier of touch.

            “There’s someone coming this way, Yuu!” Grim interrupted the precious moment between Azul and Yuu without a care in the world. He leaped into the arms of Yuu, and purred happily. 

            The sound of approaching footsteps signaled that it was time for Azul to take his leave, slowly releasing the princess from his grasp. That’s right, she’s the princess. The daughter of the Sea King. Things couldn’t possibly work out between us, Azul thought with the insecurity of his incompatible position to court her.

            Despite the numerous amount of times that he rejects his feelings, he has inevitably been drawn in by her.

            “Ahem. Good luck, Yuu. May you find the man you seek of.” How ironic, isn’t it? To purposefully set someone up for failure just to utilize them for their worth. Although these thoughts were on his mind, they didn’t affect the look of excitement that had never left her face as she eagerly waved with one hand goodbye to him. Adjusting the hat on his head, Azul promptly disappeared from her sight.

            Yuu was getting jittery, fixing her hair as much as she can and determined, hoping that the man who turned around the corner was the one she was looking for, but to her disappointment, it was someone else. It was the man that was getting drunk on the boat– Prince Elias was it? The girl wore a smile, either way, not wanting to show her displeasure for this man.

            As for Prince Elias, he gave a low whistle the moment he laid eyes on the princess. His eyes raked her body up and down in one of the most disrespectful ways without blatantly hiding it, but he coughed into his fist and approached her. She was quite the jewel and a maiden that he hadn’t seen before in the kingdom. Something about the way she held herself, the way that she confidently stood tall and had not seemed to have too much of an interest in him. This would be another trophy he’d conquer if he got her to marry him.

            Out of all people that were to show up, why did it have to be this guy?! Azul anxiously watched from afar, hidden from the line of sight of the crowd on the shore. With the time spent on the human lands, he knew exactly what kind of guy Prince Elias was! A womanizer, playboy, and fool who cannot properly recognize the high-value woman standing right in front of him! Oh boy, Azul was gritting his teeth together, as if this whole situation could get any more complicated. He needs to come up with another plan. Although he may benefit from all of this if he stayed out of the equation, he can’t just let Yuu be around him!

            Prince Elias had walked up to Yuu and Grim began to hiss at the man approaching. Perhaps Yuu can find that charming gentleman again if she were to go with the prince to his residence. The prince, on the other hand, was thinking about how his assistant the other day was ushering him to get married. Looking up and down at the girl once more, he started to have ulterior motives of his own.

            “Shipwrecked? Hey, let me take you to my castle and get you cleaned up.” Prince Elias invited, trying to snake a hand around the girl’s waist, but she pushed herself away. The man raised his eyebrow and took this as a challenge. “You can’t talk? Well, that’s alright. I’ll help you and make sure you’re taken care of,” he said as they both walked off in the distance, leaving Azul to his own thoughts.

            The rage started to bubble within him, I don’t want her to be viewed like eye candy to a foul man like Prince Elias, he thought. She should be admired like a piece of art– not like a pile of food in front of a starving man! Men like Prince Elias would immediately lust over her rather than worship her for her worth.

            Azul trusted that Yuu’s devoted friend, Grim, would keep an eye on her. He watched as Prince Elias led the princess to his castle.

            “If you really want things to be done right, then you really have to do it yourself.” Azul was going to make his next move.

            After getting cleaned up and dressed by the maids, Yuu admired everything around her. The warm light shining on everything and through the large windows of the palace was a big change from the cool colors that she saw every day in the waters. Not only there were many people in various clothing, but the gadgets and gizmos were more complex and actually functioning compared to the ones she had under the sea! The Dinglehopper is a personal favorite that she has in her possession (she borrowed it from the dining hall).

            Her own bedroom was illuminated by a candle on her nightstand. She combed through her hair with the Dinglehopper and walked toward where she was supposed to sleep. Grim sat on the nightstand and yawned, “We can brainstorm ideas on finding your dream man tomorrow.” She patted the cat’s head and sat herself down on the bed, and to her surprise, the bed sank under her. What an incredible invention! And a comfortable one, too.

            Yuu sank into the soft mattresses of her own bed, relishing the joy of being on land like she always dreamed of. Grim jumped on the pillow next to her, “This is amazing, who knew being on land could be so much fun?” The princess excitedly nodded her head as she shook his little paws. She couldn’t help but kick her legs with joy against the bed. It was going to be a long day ahead of her tomorrow as she searches for that gentleman she saved. A whole new life awaits her! She can’t be any more grateful to Azul for doing this for her.

            After a while, the energy from Yuu had finally calmed down and she is fast asleep with Grim in her arms. The fluffy grey cat pulled himself free from her grasp and leaped on the nightstand. He smiled at his dear friend, oh how much has happened within this short amount of time. 

            “Good night, Yuu.” And he blew the candle out.

Part 1: You finished reading it! :)

Part 2: Here!

Part 3: Here!

[tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors]

How does Harley feel when that protective posessiveness finally includes him?

Harley, externally: [voice cracking] thanks

Harley, internally: YIKES YIKES YIKES-

basically......... imagine you accidentally save a mob bosses life one day. and now he's like "youre family" and is Very Nice To You and gives you gifts and pays off all your student loans and groceries and would totally oneshot anyone who looked at you wrong. this is kinda cool! it is also extremely terrifying

like, he adjusts, he lives the rest of his life in Wickhills so he's Got Time you know, but Oh My God someone give this man a xanax

[xiaonyc]

xiaob͙ᴬ𝚋y's͙ temple☽

🔗 Masterlist 🔗

ᴴᴵ ᴮᴬᴮᴵᴱˢ,

ᴹᵞ ᴺᴬᴹᴱ ᴵˢ ˣᴵᴬᴼᵞᴵᴺ, ᴮᵁᵀ ᵁ ᶜᴬᴺ ᶜᴬᴸᴸ ᴹᴱ 𝕩𝕚𝕒𝕠. (Shiao) It means flute。

↳ ⁑⁎✬⋆ my baby fashion brand 『 @hautepng 』

↳ ⁑⁎✬⋆ my art blog 『 @xiaoyinxie 』

..............✩ 𝕒ᴮᴼᵁᵀ ⋆.................

ᴵ ᴾᴼˢᵀ ˢᴱᴸᶠᴴᴱᴸᴾ, ᶠᴬˢᴴᴵᴼᴺ, ᶜᴼᴼᴷᴵᴺᴳ, ᴬᴺᴰ ᴬᴿᵀ。ᴵ ᴿᴱᴮᴸᴼᴳ ᴬᴺᵞᵀᴴᴵᴺᴳ ᴵ ᴸᴵᴷᴱ。

.....✩.....✩.....✩.....✩.....✩.....✩.....

on this blog i will be sharing my journey of healing, growing, and becoming the best version of ᴹᵞˢᴱᴸᶠ. my joys are fashion, self care, cooking, and creating art in any medium. i work on things as i have energy and desire to, my life is nonlinear, i learn, adapt, do nothing, do something, i trust the cosmos to guide the way, i place my faith in what i cannot understand, something beyond my existence as a material body. grateful to b here and blessings to eryone xx

.............✩ 𝕤ᴱᴸᶠ ᴴᴱᴸᴾ ⋆...............

✩ status... treating myself like a precious baby, unlearning self-hating patterns

✩ what self-growth means to ᴹᴱ..... I am on my own journey to become the best version of myself, following my divine path. I am beautiful, a 1 of 1 creation by god. The world glitters around me, I am mentally strong. I am emotionally aware. I take care of my body to the best of my ability and nourish myself. My mind is sacred. My body is sacred. My soul is sacred. I honor them all and treat them as my babys.

I don't know everything but I will fail over and over again to become truest self, unaffected by opinion, trends, and expectations. I continue learning. I continue growing. I continue protecting my energy in any way I can. I put in the work today so I can continue to blossom in my lifetime, regardless of age.

If things i post can be of help to anyone, i am glad. If not, its okay too. Our journeys are all unique and trusting ourselves takes 1st priority.

..............✩ 𝕗ᴬˢᴴᴵᴼᴺ ⋆.................

✩ status... learning how to style outfits with a 30 OOTD challenge

✩ what fashion means to ᴹᴱ..... fashion gives me an outlet to transmute my truest self outwardly, that is why its my love. But it hasn't always been easy. I have cried over and over, had many failures, struggled with self-confidence to get to a point today where I accept myself as i am 1st and try my best to express my individuality 2nd. It has been a journey of healing my self-hating past, learning about myself, and choosing to not give a f what others think. Bad boss bitch.

..............✩ 𝕔ᴼᴼᴷᴵᴺᴳ ⋆.................

✩ status... learning to cook vietnamese food

✩ what cooking means to ᴹᴱ..... cooking is me taking responsibility for my life. it's taught me to adapt, budget, time manage, prepare, and make things my own creations. I had struggles along the way, such as with discipline, overspending, wasting food, ordering takeout all the time, eating junk food and overprocessed garbage, going on autopilot mode to not have to think or adapt. But by adapting more, i have found a sweet balance that gives me easy options for cooking delicious meals when I don't have much energy and options for when i am more ambitious. i love the smile on a loved ones face when its delicious ^_^

................✩ 𝕒ᴿᵀ ⋆...................

✩ status... not drawing much these days but I like fashion drawings

✩ what art means to ᴹᴱ.... the challenge of my life, it means practicing lots of self-love, and stepping into my own shoes: drawing ᵂᴴᴬᵀ and ᴴᴼᵂ I want regardless of what others say or think, and 2. Finding my true reason to create beyond ego and external validation, learning to create to heal, to have fun, and get closer to my true self, trusting inspiration will come to me, and believing in myself

☆★ Thanks for reading if you got here, I almost gave up on this post bc a part got deleted and it didnt save. I want to pull through even though my confidence is a bit shot//. ♡ THANKYOU ♡

All dividers and photos are made by me unless credited. I might open a request for them to celebrate the opening/ rennovation of this blog ^-^ i want to thank @fawndollie for the rainbow text inspiration and @anitalenia for the post decorations inspiration and the "status" text <33