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#'what must it be like to grow up that beautiful?' 'my mind turns your life into folklore'
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i usually talk about jake pining for rich but i love it being the other way around too (preferably pre-canon when rich is relatively new to the whole 'being friends with jake' thing and there's this idolization in his mind)
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rogueinparadise · 1 year
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✩˖ ࣪‧₊˚໒꒱⋆✩ Gold Rush, Lyrical Analysis
(Taylor Swift, Evermore)
Track 3: Gold Rush
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In Track 3 of Evermore, titled ‘Gold Rush’, Swift describes the anxiety which accompanies loving someone. She has previously addressed this anxiety she feels in relationships in other bodies of work, most notably in her 4 albums predeceasing Evermore in songs such as ‘Cruel Summer’, ‘Delicate’, ‘Dancing With Our Hands Tied’, and ‘Out of the Woods’ -- to name a few. In this track she speaks about the kind of anxiety in which she attempts to keep a relationship secret, whilst being held witness to everyone else pine after her lover. This secrecy is explored heavily in her last 5 studio albums, connecting them and tying them to the same muse by popular argument. In this song, she compares the way in which others are drawn to her lover as a ‘Gold Rush’, using a term used for when multiple parties are attracted to a site due to its production of gold to create a beautiful, yet anxiety inducing, metaphor for her emotional reaction to this situation. In her prior studio album Lover, she describes love as “golden” (‘Daylight’), and also admits in the title track that she is “highly suspicious” that everyone who sees her muse “wants” them. In Lover, she explores these emotions with upbeat melodies and cadence, however, in accordance with the themes of the Evermore album, these emotions are now overcome with heartache, explored in a forlorn manner through the lens of Swift’s now apparent hurt. 
“Gleaming, twinkling, eyes like sinking ships on waters. So inviting, I almost jump in” 
Taylor Swift: Gold Rush, Evermore (2020)
The opening lines of the track begin with a mystical and dreamlike melody describing the magnetic pull of her lover’s appearance (“You should think about the consequence of your magnetic field being a little too strong” -- Gorgeous, Reputation). We can instantly recognise that this song is being written in the past tense, as a reflection, much like the rest of the songs included on this album as this is evidenced in the use of the word “almost”. The use of this word highlights the temptation she felt in this relationship. It could be argued that the temptation here was to throw it all to the wind and admit her love publicly, but as discussed on later tracks on this album and in prior and following bodies of work, it can be concluded that Swift never quite gets to do this. Furthermore, the way in which she compares her muses eyes to sinking ships begging her to go down with them suggests a relationship in which she stands a lot to lose, especially through public admission of her love, which is a theme explored heavily throughout her discography.
“But I don’t like a gold rush, gold rush. I don’t like anticipating my face in a red flush. I don’t like that anyone would die to feel your touch.Everybody wants you. Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you. Walk past, quick brush. I don’t like slow motion, double-vision in a rose blush. I don’t like that falling feels like flying ‘til the bone crush.Everybody wants you, but I don’t like a gold rush” 
Taylor Swift: Gold Rush, Evermore (2020)
The connective tissue of Swift’s song whilst writing about this specific muse is seemingly tied into every lyric featured in track 3 of Evermore. The song features intense themes of insecurity within her relationship as she battles with her own perception of her lover, and how others share this perception, reducing its uniqueness and the value of her opinion (in her eyes). It could be argued that this is mostly born from the pedestal she places her lover on, evidenced in the repetition of the line: “everybody wants you”. This mantra is repeated several times throughout the song, highlighting her deep insecurity within the relationship and the idea that it could be taken, or stolen, from her at any moment. The idea of putting her lover on a pedestal is further explored in the contrast between personifying her lover as a ‘Gold Rush’ whilst reducing herself to just another person magnetised to their beauty and value, especially in the eyes of the public. Swift appears to be hiding her admiration for her muse as much as possible, but often failing, and anticipating her failing in this becoming obvious to others whilst also resenting that others will recognise the speciality and perfection of the one she loves. The contrast between the perfection of her lover and the idea of her being just another onlooker struck with awe is telling of how she views herself and the value and high standard she holds her lover to, which is what makes the degradation of their love story all the more heartbreaking: “I don’t like that falling feels like flying til the bone crush.” 
“What must it be like to grow up that beautiful, With your hair falling into place like dominos? I see me padding ‘cross your wooden floor, with my Eagles t-shirt hanging from the door. At dinner parties, I call you out on your contrarian shit, and the coastal town we wandered round had never seen a love as pure as it.And then it fades into the grey of my day old tea, ‘cause you know it could never be...” 
Taylor Swift: Gold Rush, Evermore (2020)
The placement of her muse on this pedestal continues into the chorus of the song, where she details a manner of perfectionism that she herself will never be able to attain, but her lover commands effortlessly, seemingly their whole life. Swift's regard for her lover is telling of her insecurity not only within the relationship, but also within her own self-perception, which we can observe her battle with in other songs such as ‘The Archer’ and ‘Anti-Hero’. The use of the word ‘dominos’ is another example of the so-called “connective tissue” linking these albums and their respective songs to the same muse as in ‘Mastermind’ (a track from Midnights), she speaks about the orchestration of her relationship and “the dominoes cascading in a line”. Swift’s metaphorical use of the word ‘domino’ appears to be used when she speaks of planning and perfectionism, so it is useful to imagine these songs as being linked, despite the past tense of this track, which will later be explained. On the topic of past tense, there is a certain nostalgic and reflective tone running throughout the vein of the album, featuring heavily in this song. The chorus details Swift reflecting on the events and dynamic of their relationship until it inevitably fades away due to forces outside Swift's control and also due to Swift's own actions. It is undecided which she blames more, as she goes between both narratives throughout the course of the tracklist. It is ultimately up to the listener to draw their own conclusions. 
In the final chorus of the track, Swift changes the lyrics slightly, a technique used throughout her songwriting to indicate finality or a change in narrative -- a conclusive ending: 
“My mind turns your life into folklore, I can’t dare to dream about you anymore. At dinner parties, won’t call you out on your contrarian shit. And the coastal town we never found will never see a love as pure as it. ‘Cause it fades into the grey of my day old tea, ‘cause it will never be...” 
Taylor Swift: Gold Rush, Evermore (2020)
Firstly, the lyric “my mind turns your life into folklore/ I can’t dare to dream about you anymore” is extremely significant for many reasons. The implication here that her prior studio album, said to be the “sister album” of this album, titled Folklore, was used to turn the events of their relationship into songs is extremely telling of who the muse is, but also that their relationship has now ended, as she cannot dream about this person anymore, she cannot make any more stories to be passed on (“and just like a folk song, our love will be passed on” -- Seven, Folklore). Her lover is now absent from the dinner parties they once attended together, and she now must carry on without them, hosting independently without her lover at her side. She will no longer lovingly debate with them over the dinner table, as this part of her life has now drawn to a close. Furthermore, the trip they took together privately may as well not exist, and the love they found together also goes down with this ship. With no public commemoration of their love, it dies with them. 
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killjoygem · 10 months
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Gold Rush by Taylor Swift is living rent free in my head right now. Its not usually the kind of song i get into but it's just got such a grip on me
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bejeweledbaby · 2 years
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gold rush is about steve harrington
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the-lovebitch · 2 years
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Siri play gold rush by Taylor swift
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elsmirrorball · 2 years
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everytime i see finn wolfhard, gold rush starts playing in my mind.
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brittanas-blog · 1 year
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this is my song HOW DARE SHE SING MY SONG WHEN I WASNT THERE
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pandoraslxna · 9 months
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could u write a fic where lo’ak is edging the reader so she gets kinda frustrated and storms off so the rest of the day lo’ak is teasing her and making fun of her for getting mad but she gets back at him by edging him so much that he cries🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️
Want, get, have.
adult Lo‘ak x female metkayina reader
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Words: 5.2k
Summary: Lo‘ak takes advantage of the little crush he knows the olo’eyktan’s spoiled daughter habors for him. That is, until you finally decide to get payback for all his teasing.
Warnings: explicit smut, edgeplay, Lo‘ak is kinda mean and maybe out of character here, minimal dub/con warning because he’ll get tied up later, p in v, handjob, oral / face sitting, cowgirl position, dirty talk, crying, begging, degradation & praise kink, orgasm denial, obsession, spit kink, switch!Lo‘ak, creampie
Notes: sorry this took forever, I hope you like it 🩵
Na’vi translation:
paskalin = honey
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At first, it was a rumour.
To be more specific, it was the kind of rumour that was grounded close enough to reality that he could see it happening, but not so close that a skeptic could take it at face value, no matter how hard Kiri swore it was legit. Because, see, she heard it from Rotxo who'd heard it from your brother Ao’nung and therefore it must be true. There was no real reason to put any stock in this particular story over, but Lo‘ak couldn't help but be curious. He spent days going back and forth on whether or not he should investigate, but after the fifth, "Hey bro, did you hear...?", he knew he wouldn't be able to get any peace of mind if he didn't. And when it turned out to be true, Lo‘ak couldn’t believe his luck.
The spoiled little brat of the olo’eyktan really had a crush on him. Him, of all people.
As the chiefs daughter, you were accustomed to getting what you wanted.
It wasn't even a matter of being selfish… it was just a habit at this point. Want, get, have. You were spoiled, that’s what it was. It wasn't that difficult to get.
And Lo‘ak knew difficult. Even as a son of an olo’eyktan himself, he had to struggle to get where he was. A better portion of his childhood was difficult, growing up in war, always living under his older brothers shadow. An outcast, a four fingered freak, neither really belonging to his own people nor those aliens from another star, and most definitely not to the metkayina clan. No, Lo‘ak was far from being spoiled.
So what was he supposed to do, when you approached him for the very first time, thinking that batting your pretty long lashes was enough for him to fall to your knees like everyone else would’ve? Exactly! Reject you.
The downright confused look on your beautiful, flawless face was more than just priceless to him, as you struggled to understand that for the first time in your life, you were denied to have something that you wanted.
The flower of his mischievous plan blossomed just shortly after, when you came over to his marui in the morning with freshly picked fruit for breakfast. And then again, when your offerings turned a little more… personal.
Sucking him off, down at the shore. Or when you gave him a handjob after coming back from a hunt with your brother Ao’nung. Nothing has ever fed his ego as much as having a sweet thing like you following him around, practically acting as his shadow. Obsessed, that’s what you were. You became obsessed with him, craving for attention from the one thing you couldn’t have.
And Lo‘ak loved it. The more he denied you, the more you wanted him. But the best part of it all was, when you spread your pretty, smooth, cyan legs for him.
"Look at the mess you’ve made", Lo‘ak tsks, stroking his slick covered dick right over the mound of your pussy. "Got my whole cock drenched. You‘re really that desperate, huh?"
Your chest heaves, breathing rapid, and you’re struggling to collect yourself from the intense orgasm that was so harshly ripped away from your grasp, just as it was about to shatter your whole being.
"Lo‘ak, Lo‘ak please–"
A low chuckle vibrates in his chest, as he furiously pumps his cock with one hand, while fumbling your breast with the other.
"Please, Lo’ak, please", he mocks your tone with a fake pout and then pinches your nipple, before he rolls it between his thumb and index finger. He tugs on the sensitive bud, then asks sternly, "Please, what?"
"I need to come", you hiccup, your glassy eyes being a clear indication that you were actually close to sobbing from desperation. "Let me come, please. I- I was so close!"
"No."
Lo‘ak had lost count on how many times this had happened by now. How many times he had you in every possible position; bend over, under him, on top of him, laying, standing, sitting, on your knees… but he had never granted you that sweet release before. Not that he wasn’t able to, oh no. He had you on the verge of crying, eyes rolling back into your skull, with trembling legs and drool running down your chin like a fucked out little doll within minutes. But he made it his personal goal to finish first. Even if that meant for him to pull out of the delicious, wet heat that enveloped his cock, just to fuck his fist instead and spill himself onto your chest, stomach or wherever he preferred.
As unsatisfying as that might be, the sight in front of him made it all worth it. You were a mess. A begging little brat, too spoiled to handle being denied not only of his love and affection, but also of your orgasms. It was perfect.
You were just so adorable, trying to regain your composure on wobbly legs, once you realized that all that begging and pleading wouldn’t get you very far with him. And then when you pouted, crossing your arms over your chest, like a toddler throwing a tantrum, and stormed off in frustration, it made it all so much better. If that was even possible.
But no matter how insanely mad he was driving you, you just couldn’t stay away from him for long. Not even when Lo’ak so bluntly teased you for your behavior, mocking your pleads, whispering them into your ear as you sat on his lap. Or when he called you spoiled, a brat, his dumb little doll so boldly in front of your friends, not caring for the way your cheeks turned pink in embarrassment. It was only a matter of time for that unbearable tension in your core, an almost animalistic urge for release, to melt you from the inside out, and until you were trying to sweet talk your way back into his loincloth, unable to keep your hands to yourself.
Whatever this odd situation was, Lo‘ak was truly enjoying playing with you like this. Maybe even a little too much.
Unbeknownst to him however, you grew more frustrated with every passing day and every orgasm he robbed you of. So much so, that at one point, you just couldn’t help yourself anymore. Enough was enough, you decided.
There’s a pinch to the soft apple of his cheek that makes Lo‘ak stir awake abruptly from the little nap he had decided to take earlier.
He sighs softly. The sun was still shining bright through the leaves of a big palm tree, blinding his eyes. Lifting a hand to shield the sun away, he’s pulled up short by something around his wrists. Immediately, the fog in his mind begins to clear as he tugs on the restraints locking his arms together over his head.
Hearing your lighthearted giggle sends a wave of goosebumps all over his body, and Lo‘ak blinks a few times for his eyes to adjust to the brightness, before he opens them slowly.
Lifting his head to look down on himself, he’s met with the sight of you, cyan skin glistening in the warm sunlight, kneeling between his spread thighs.
"Good morning, sleepyhead", you coo softly, but Lo‘aks ears fold themselves against his head, his eyebrows pulling together in visible confusion. He then pulls against whatever is tied around his wrists again, testing the strength of his restraint. It’s tight and rough on his skin, but it doesn’t hurt. At least not yet. Whatever it is, it feels suspiciously like the woven cord of a fishing net.
They may not have been designed for this, but they still work pretty well and can also withstand a lot of force without tearing- especially like this, tying Lo’ak to a tree, with no real leverage or enough room to move his hands freely or use just an ounce of his actual strength.
And they ensure that you would get the perfect view of Lo‘ak; with his muscular thighs spread wide and his loincloth lazily hanging over his most priced possession. Just one tug on the right string and it would fall off. You couldn’t help taking a moment to appreciate him like this, entirely constrained, leaving him so open and so vulnerable to whatever you would choose to do to him.
"What are you doing?", Lo‘ak huffs out a laugh, but his voice carries more than a hint of nervousness.
Again, you giggle. Scooting closer, you let your hands run over his chest, all the way up to his neck and over his shoulders, feeling the tension in his muscles. He‘s already so on edge, it makes heat spread in your core.
"You know, I always get what I want, forest boy", you innocently smile up at him, dainty fingers running down over his pecks and to his waist, where his loincloth sits. "And what I want, is you."
Once untied, the neatly woven cloth falls off of him slowly and the omatikaya sucks in a sharp breath. You don’t hesitate to reach out for him, giving his already half hard cock an experimental stroke to feel him stir alive.
"But you’ve been so mean to me, Lo‘ak", you put on a fake pout and then sigh, "You leave me with no choice but to simply take what I want."
Lo‘ak‘s scoff that follows tells you more than enough.
"Oh, yeah? You’re gonna take what you want, like the spoiled little brat that you are? Go on then", he grins, watching you stroke his cock until he was fully hard, standing proud and tall in your palms.
It’s cute, you think. How oblivious he is to the situation he’s in. But by Eywa, you will enjoy every second of it, truly make it up for all the times he didn’t let you come.
Lo‘ak felt the pleasure building in his lower abdomen when your hand tightened just slightly around his cock. You twist your hand on the upward stroke, your thumb teasing the slit on his tip before you let him lazily thrust into your fist, just once.
Fingers sliding over his length and up the underside of his cock, you work him slowly but surely, drawing out a low moan that Lo’ak tried, but failed, to disguise as a curse, before shifting to a faster pace.
It’s no surprise to him how good you are at this. Just thinking about your heavenly handjobs had him rock hard and seeking you out during the most random times a day, thats how damn good they were.
As you let spit pool in your mouth and then dribble onto the mushroom-like tip, Lo’ak throws his head back in bliss at the new sensation, panting fast and heavy through parted lips. Your hands continue to slide down his cock to circle around the base, stroking him firmly.
"Oh fuck, that’s it. Keep going, baby, I’m close already", Lo‘ak mutters under his breath, eyes squeezed shut to focus all of his senses on the pleasure you provide. You feel his cock throb in your palms, clear droplets of pre-cum joining your spit and serving as lubricant to make your strokes become more fluidly.
"J-Just like that", he breathes out, his hips raising up to fuck into your fist, "G-Gonna come, haa– fuck, fuck!"
"Some metkayina men would kill for this, you know", you remark with a mischievous smile, "And you get it for free."
Lo‘ak doesn't respond to that, but that’s okay. You don’t expect him to. His mind is drawing blank and he begins to feel a nervous excitement, a pressure in his ribcage, making it harder for him to breathe properly. Heat boils in his core and his breathing hitches when you move your hand faster, harder.
You watch his hands flex, pulling at the restraining cords around his wrists and his toes curl as he nears the edge of his climax.
"Almost there, Lo‘ak", you coo, "You’re so close aren’t you? Does it feel good, hm? You like that?"
"Yes, yes,– fuck, yes! So good, so fucking good", he moans, before lifting his head up as much as he can to watch you from his current position, already imagining how pretty you will look when he comes, spilling his cum onto your face and chest.
But the sweet bliss he was chasing so desperately was suddenly ripped away from him entirely, when both of your hands leave his cock abruptly. It causes him to gasp like you just stole the very air from his lungs.
"N-No! No, what- what are you doing!?", Lo‘ak curses, his head falling back against the soft sand. "Why did you stop?" His chest heaves and his cock visibly throbs in the air, even more pre-cum leaking from it’s tip now that it’s all swollen and purple, begging for relief.
"And here I thought I was the spoiled one", you say cheerfully, "but look at you. You’re such a mess, and all that just because I didn’t let you get what you wanted…"
Lo‘ak frowns, taking in your words, but then you move as if you’re going to touch him again, and his hips rise towards your hand, instinctively bucking up for the friction he’s been denied.
You giggle at the pathetic sight of him trying to reach your hands, simultaneously struggling against his restraints, before his body falls slack, laying back flat against the sand.
Lo‘ak tries and fails to bite back a small, heartfelt whimper of frustrated need. His cheeks are flushed bright red by now. He really looks cute when he’s frustrated like this, you think to yourself, before you actually reach down and give him a firm tug.
Another moan falls from his lips at the unexpected touch, but it soon turns into more whining when you begin to move your hand in an up and down motion, picking up the same pace where you had left earlier. Lo‘ak slowly begins to squirm underneath your touch, his abs flexing with every stroke of your palms and his thighs twitch. A thin layer of sweat makes his lean body shine in the sunlight, as your restless pace sends his mind into overdrive.
"C-Coming", he forces out between broken whimpers, "m‘coming, m‘coming!"
You feel how he stirs in your palm and right when he’s about to fall apart, you pull your hand away yet again, earning yourself a loud groan of desperation. "What the— f- ah! Fuck", he whines and curses at the loss of another orgasm, squirming when the feeling of euphoria epps away once more.
"I need to come, I really need to come", he nearly sobs when your fist closes around his shaft not shortly after. You’re barely moving now, just teasing the slit of his cock with your thumb, smearing his pre-cum over his most sensitive parts. "Don’t stop now, please. I- I was so close, baby. Please I‘m already begging, I just… Let me come this time." Your fingers ghost over his length before you properly hold him again, hand closing tight around his shaft and his hips jerk up in attempt to help him get there.
"So needy", you whisper, scooting even closer as your hand continues to pump his throbbing length. You’re close enough now that your lips brush over his jawline and he inhales a shaky breath once your face comes close to his. Lo‘aks eyes are half lidded as he stares at you, lips slightly parted before you give him the command, "Open up, pretty boy", to which he dutifully sticks his tongue out and both of your eyes follow the clear droplet of spit fall from your tongue onto his.
Humming in satisfaction, you watch him swallow, groaning at the taste, while you move your hand just a little faster. Call it a little treat for his obedience.
With your other hand now resting on his cheek, you swipe your thumb across Lo‘aks lips, wiping away a stray smear of drool, partly yours and partly his own.
"This is mine", you whisper directly into his ear, tracing the outline of his mouth, and Lo‘ak nods frantically. Kissing away his groan of frustration, you allow him to fuck into your hand for three tantalising, torturous thrusts. His tongue curls around yours, but then you pull away again. "And this", you squeeze his cock tightly, movements haltering and he whimpers, "is mine too, isn’t it?"
Lo‘ak nods for a second time, heavy-lidded and languid and just so desperate in a way he’s never been before.
"And I can do what I want with what’s mine, right?", you tilt your head playfully, amused at the sight of him lifting his head and chasing your lips for another kiss.
"Fuck. Y-Yes!", he whines when all you grant him is a little peck to his bottom lip. "Yes, you can do what you want with me, just please. Please let me come!"
Waiting for his breathing to even out, you finally begin to move your hand again. While you do so, your face nuzzles into his neck, lips tracing his jawline and then moving further up to nibble at the soft shell of his ear. His tail lashes against the ground in anticipation and soon, he’s turned into a moaning mess again. It takes significantly less time to get him close to an orgasm now, you notice. A sharp grin forms on your face as you prop yourself onto your elbows to watch him properly.
"So good, feels so good", Lo’ak’s moans are more quiet now, almost a whisper, like he was scared of being caught. But you felt him pulse in your hand, and his breath hitched hard and that’s all you needed to know.
"Wait– No, no, pl-ah! Please!", Lo’aks whole body seized when the warmth of your touch leaves his cock and yet another orgasm was ruined, leaving him a trembling, cursing mess.
"Oh, c’mon", his frustrated groan immediately turns into a heartbreaking whine, once you retreat your hands entirely. Forced to watch you lick your fingertip clean of his pre-cum, he tugs against his restrains, "I- I want to fuck you, mamas, please. Wanna fuck you so bad. Just let me. I‘ll be so good for you, I’ll make you scream, yeah? I know that’s what you want. Just please. Please, please, I prom—"
"Shhh, it’s okay", you coo into his ear, calming him down enough to make him stop resisting his cuffs. "You’re gonna be good for me, yes? Gonna make me come this time?"
"Oh Eywa, yes. Yes, I- I promise", he stutters, the impatience clear in the strain of his voice, "Untie me, c‘mon, baby."
"Untie you? Oh don’t be silly, paskalin." Your giggle alone is enough to make him shudder, as if his body already knew what his mind was still struggling to process, his brows furrowing as he watched you undress.
"But I thought- I thought you wanted me to—"
"Hmh, I know what I said", you cut him off and the smile on your lips is almost too sweet to be true, "And you will make me come this time. I know it, because I’ll make sure it‘ll happen."
And then you rise up, leg slung over his chest to straddle him, and his hazy golden eyes darken with intrigue. Still, he lies motionless, waiting. Sliding closer and rising up on your knees, you smirk as Lo‘ak lifts his head just slightly, licking his lips at the sight, before falling back to the sand with a put-upon groan.
"Watch the teeth, yes?", you tease him, tracing your thumb over his pointy canine to which he rolls his eyes.
"Just- fucking sit down, sit on my face, c‘mon", he groans in response. His hips seem to have a mind on their own, because you feel them raise up and thrust into the air, his cock desperately seeking attention.
Twining a hand into his hair, you then angle his head between your legs and finally sink down over him.
A warm puff of breath, and then his tongue flicks over your folds, a tickling caress. A delicate kiss, and then he sets to work.
The quickly cooling saliva against your hot skin gives a pleasant sensation, and Lo’ak uses his tongue to part your folds. You squirm and pant beneath him, voice cracking as you attempt to voice your approval. He curves his tongue into a point, flicking and kissing at your most sensitive parts and you begin to shake above him, all needy moans and senseless affirmations, hips rocking down to meet his mouth.
Soon enough, you grind against the flat of his tongue, his nose and the upper half of his face like you’re riding a damn pali. The rest of him lies supine, but his tongue and lips move in practiced tandem, his purrs of satisfaction running through you in turn. “Hmm, just like that", you sigh, hand tightening in his braided hair, the other dropping behind you to steady yourself against his chest.
"You’re so damn delicious", Lo‘ak groans underneath you, the vibration of it sending waves of pleasure from your core all the way up your spine, your tail trashing and curling while he slurps up your slick arousal like it’s warm honey. It’s like he’s making out with your clit at one point and you can’t help but hump against his puckered lips. You throw your head back when he begins to suck rather harshly, his spine curving and twisting uncomfortably to meet your needs, but he couldn’t care less in this moment.
Normally he’s all teeth and bite, fangs grazing your skin and nipping on the inside of your thighs, sinking into your soft flesh until glossy, wet bite marks indent. Teasing you whenever you struggled to cover them up, and on some days, gladly taking a fight with Ao’nung once your loincloth moves around too much and your big brothers gaze lands on the faint marks on your inner thigh, claiming you to the forest boy that was playing with you like you’re nothing but a little doll. (Oh, how the table had turned…)
But right now he’s messy, filthy and sloppy and eating you out like he was starving. Flat nose pressed hard against your clit, he switched between tongue-fucking you and lapping at your clit, sucking the little bundle of nerves like he’s aiming to make you pass out.
"Yes, fuck, there– right there!"
Lo‘ak hums in acknowledgement, and then you give a last, sharp cry, hips jerking down against his face as you fall apart on top of him. Between your thighs, you feel him groan and curse and you hear the downright obscene slurping, like he enjoys drowning in your sweet juices. You stay put for as long as your body allows, floating in the endorphin high of the long awaited orgasm you had chased and been denied for weeks now, until your legs begin to tremble and the kitten licks to your clit start to feel a little overwhelming.
Lo‘ak draws in a shuddering breath as soon as he was able to, and it turns into a moan halfway through as your hand was back on his hair, fingertips digging into his scalp as you slowly lift yourself up from his now glistening face. With an equally heaving chest, the both of you look into each others eyes for a moment, panting heavily to catch your breaths.
But while your breathing slowly evens, his seems to turn more rapid. Glancing over your shoulder, your met with a sight that almost makes you feel pity if it wouldn’t look so damn hot.
His cock had leaked so much pre-cum, a small puddle had formed where he laid against his lower stomach, twitching to the rhythm of his heartbeat, the tip an angry color of purple from being edged and then completely ignored, neglected of any touch and further stimulation.
"Please", Lo‘ak heaves in a breathless whisper and you thought there was more to come, but that’s all he seemed to be capable of anymore.
Your orgasm had already drained you to the point that you felt like molten wax, limbs still twitching with the aftershocks, yet you don’t hesitate to scoot back down and straddle his lap with a glint of determination in your eyes.
It’s him who then throws his head back with a loud groan, every muscles of his body tensing, because suddenly, and too fast for him to prepare himself, you line his cock up with your slick entrance and slam yourself down, swallowing all of his length to the base.
"F-Fu-ck", Lo‘ak chokes out, once you sit on him properly, your own body weight and gravity pulling you down further than he thought was even possible, until you were nestled snugly against him, clit kissing his pubic bone. It makes him physically shudder.
"Oh t-thank you! Fuck– thank you. You feel so good, so good", Lo‘ak wheezes, and his cock throbs vividly inside you.
Instead of a verbal response, you decide to let your body do all the talking now. Starting with a pace that he least expected now, you’re moving your hips hard and fast— lifting yourself up and down on Lo‘aks cock and spilling moans that he feels deep to his core. His cock almost slips out each time, before you’re slamming your whole body back down, turning yourself into an equally moaning and whimpering mess.
Below you, Lo‘ak‘s eyes are squeezed shut and his toes curl at the feeling of your tight heat swallowing him over and over again. But even closed, you can clearly see the tears soaking his lashes. He’s so close that it hurts, but it’s a good kind of pain. One, he hopes will finally grant him the orgasm he’s been clinging to like his life depended on it.
"Look", you then tell him. Like the good boy that he was, he slowly forced his eyes open, before you grab his chin with your thumb and index finger and direct his gaze to where your pussy greedily swallows him, stretched around his girth like a little sleeve made just for him to use.
"I am- Fuck! I am looking", he sobs, "You’re g-gonna make me come— please don’t stop! Please!"
Lo‘ak wants to jerk up into you so badly. He wants to break free, flip you over and pound into you, relishing in the way that his hip bones would leave marks from how hard he would thrust into you. He wants to make you cry out his name, scream it for the whole village to hear, so everyone would know that the chief’s spoiled little brat was currently getting all her holes stuffed full to the brim by the outcast.
The sounds you knocked out of his throat were a mixture of groans and whimpers, moans so shamelessly loud, whenever his dick knocked on your cervix like an iron hammer, that it made even himself blush.
He’s close, you could feel it. You hear it in the strain of his voice as he whimpers whatever incoherent stuff comes to his fucked out and fried brain by now.
But you’re close too. And by the great mother if you don’t make this a challenge into coming before he does, just to get your payback…
Making your hips come to an abrupt halt, you stay down against his pelvis, only rotating your hips in circles now, while switching the direction randomly.
"Oh eywa, please", he cries out", Please you– you- I can’t. I can’t take it anymore! Need to come, please move!"
But you continue to grind yourself against him, and Lo’ak feels your cunt pulse, but it’s not nearly enough. With your clit dragging against his skin, you slump forward against his chest and your whole body goes rigid with a shuddering gasp.
Lo‘ak is shuddering, broken sobs and whimpers leaving his parted lips as he begs for you to keep moving, his hips raising up and chasing the friction of your thrusts to return to him. It’s damn near torture- feeling your warm, velvety-like walls squeeze his cock, while you stay completely unmoving on top of him, coming undone without a care for him and his needs.
"C-Coming, I’m coming!", you moan into his ear, your arms encircling his neck and hold him tight as you shamelessly use him to make yourself finish.
And that’s it.
The friction alone and your barely there movements are hardly enough, would normally get him nowhere close, but as sensitive as he was right now they’re enough to make his whole body spam as he finally, finally, thank eywa, comes.
His cock is still buried deep inside your rhythmically-pulsing cunt, pumping rope after rope of his cum inside you as he sobs into the coock of your neck. Soft whimpers of thank you, thank you, thank you are muffled against your skin and it feels like forever and he’s still coming.
"That’s it, just like that. Hmm, m'feeling so warm inside", you coo softly into his ear, your voice laced with a giggle as you feel his cum seep out of your slick entrance, "You’re coming so much. What a good boy you are, filling me up like that. There you go, paskalin, don’t hold back."
You’re not entirely sure Lo‘ak even hears you by that point, but you still keep up the reassurance anyway as you carry on, determined to milk him dry. Your pelvis flexes and your walls seem to massage his cock, squeezing him empty to the last drop until another sob breaks free and tears roll down his face.
Allowing him a moment to catch his breath and collect himself, your soft hands run up and down his chest and then a sigh of incredible relief leaves his lips. It’s enough of a go-ahead for you to finally move, much to his disappointment.
Lo‘aks brows are furrows together lightly, watching with parted lips as his cock slips out of you in the process of getting up and rearranging your clothes. His tail sways lazily, softly tapping against the sand while he patiently waits for you to untie him.
It takes him a moment longer than he would like to admit, before he realizes that this is not happening the way he thought it would.
Reaching for his loincloth, you toss the piece of fabric and also his knife in its sheath next to him. Just barely near enough that he could reach it. Then, and with the biggest, smuggest grin on your face, you untie just one of his wrists.
"You can set yourself free, right?", you ask, but both of you know that’s it’s meant rhetorically. Regardless, your words don’t help ease the sudden tension in his shoulders and the way he looks at you like a lost puppy, utterly confused. His mind was seemingly struggling to understand what was happening, still dizzy from the most intense orgasm he’s ever experienced. It was no surprise to neither of you, that he was a little short of words as he laid there, limp and spent.
Still, you shoot him a playful wink, before turning on your heels to return to the village, leaving him there like a used toy. Looking back over your shoulder one last time, you wave at him and giggle,
"See you later, my spoiled little brat."
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3K notes · View notes
dam-bluecookies · 1 year
Note
GOOD MORNING HAVE A GOOD DAY AHEADDDD
THANK YOU AND HAVE A GREAT LIFE TO YOU
Also this song is written for you
0 notes
alastor-simp · 3 months
Text
Special Guest🎙🎵 - Alastor x Singer Reader
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Whoosh!~ A cool breeze was blowing, giving you goosebumps. Your body was sitting on the railing of your bedroom porch. Just one more inch and you would tumble down. You were gazing at the sky, admiring the crimson red and the black stared orb. Peaceful moments like this were relaxing to you, despite the mast amount of pollution in the air. Heaving a sigh, you continued to gaze at the stars, humming out a song. That humming eventually turned into lyric, and you sang them outloud to yourself:
🎵If you weren't born with it You can buy a couple ornaments Just be sure to read the warning, kids 'Cause pretty soon you'll be bored of it Sexual, hey girl if you wanna feel sexual You can always call up a professional They stick pins in you like a vegetable
Kids forever, kids forever Baby soft skin turns into leather Don't be dramatic it's only some plastic No one will love you if you're unattractive
Oh Mrs. Potato Head tell me Is it true that pain is beauty? Does a new face come with a warranty? Will a pretty face make it better? Oh Mr. Potato Head tell me How did you afford her surgery? Do you swear you'll stay forever Even if her face don't stay together Even if her face don't stay together...🎵
(Song/Lyrics Credit - "Mrs Potato Head" - Melanie Martinez)
As you continued to belt out the lyrics, an ominous shadow appeared behind you, watching you. Soon your song drew to an end. A sound of clapping hands appeared from behind you, making you yelp it fright. Turning your head back, you realized it was Alastor. He was smiling widely like a kid in a candy store. "Bravo, my dear!! What an amazing voice you have!" His feet carried him over to you, standing very close to the railing where you sat. Blushing, you casted your head down: "I'm not that good Al." Hands were placed on your face, pulling it back towards Al. "Don't be harsh on yourself, my dear! That was the best performance I have ever listened to! Why have you been hiding this secret from me?" Alastors hands continued to pinch your cheeks, his crimson eyes gazing at you with excitement. Pushing him back a bit, to leave your cheeks alone, you turned back towards the view. "I always had a fondness for music growing up. It was quite a shock to me when I realized that I could sing. I honestly suspected to sound like nails on a chalkboard when I first tried it out." Chuckling to yourself, you looked back at Al, who was laughing along with you at your explanation. "I imagined later on in my life I would make a career out of it, but I just never got around to doing it."
Alastor continued to gaze at your melancholic expression. He admired how passionate you were about singing. He himself adore music and he could sing as well. It pained him a bit that you never got to pursue your dreams. Leaning his body down, crossing his arms on the railing, he gazed at you, eyes flashing crimson. "Well I must say my dear, I'm already an instant fan! I wouldn't mind you showing off your talent during one of my broadcasts!" Almost falling off the railing in shock, you caught yourself. HE WANTED YOU TO SING DURING HIS RADIO BROADCASTS!!! "Y-you joking right?" Waiting for him to admit that he was joking. He laughed outloud. "Yes Indeedy! The wayward souls in hell would enjoy it very much, including myself!" His words were sincere, no distrust was spewing from his mouth. Twirling your hair with your finger, you looked down. "O-okay, if its alright with you." Alastor jumped back into his normal height, and wrapped his arm around your back, giving you a brief hug. "Excellent my dear! My broadcast starts at 11:00 AM, on the dot! Try to give some thought on what song you wish to perform. See you tomorrow, darling!" He was practically beaming, when he was talking to you. He soon disappeared, melding into a shadow.
It took you a bit to figure out what just happened. Alastor really wanted you to sing at his radio tower. You knew how much he valued his radio broadcasts, so you knew you needed to prepare yourself. Last thing you wanted was ruining the broadcast and upsetting Al. After that interaction with Al, you searched for what song you wanted to sing. Memorizing the lyrics and singing some parts out, making sure your vocal cords could handle it. You went to bed that night, nervous and excited for tomorrow.
**Tomorrow Morning, at 10:50 AM**
Sitting on a chair, you gazed around, taking in every little detail. Both you and Al were inside his radio tower, attached to the hotel. It was a cozy little studio. There was a giant window, looking down at the city. There was a desk and chair adorned with dear horns. A large stag head was mounted on the wall. On top of the large desk, was a set of microphones and buttons. Alastor was pressing a bunch of buttons, making sure everything was set for today's show. It still felt like a dream that you were in this situation right now. Maybe Alastor is a bit of a softie behind that evil radio demon status he holds. Settling down in his chair, he set his microphone cane in front of him, and adjusting yours at the same time. "Its showtime!" he says, smiling like the joker.
"Salutations! Ladies and Gentleman. What a good day to be on the air!" he started his introduction, causing you to smile. "Today's broadcast is a very special one indeed! Today I have a very talented sinner performing for all you people listening in! Allow me to introduce, Y/N!" His hand extended to you, like he was in a play. An applause soundtrack played as well. "U-um Hello everyone!" you stuttered in your speech, mentally cursing yourself for doing so. "HAHAHA! They are a little shy, but don't be fooled. They have a voice so incredible it will knock your socks off! Ready, my dear?" His eyes glanced over to you, making sure you were ok to start. Nodding yes, you took a deep breath, attempting to calm your nerves. Then you started to sing.
youtube
(Credit to Annapantsu. Check out her covers. Shes amazing!!!)
🎵Birds flying high You know how I feel Sun in the sky You know how I feel Breeze driftin' on by You know how I feel
It's a new dawn It's a new day It's a new life For me And I'm feeling good I'm feeling good
Fish in the sea You know how I feel River running free You know how I feel Blossom on a tree You know how I feel
It's a new dawn It's a new day It's a new life For me And I'm feeling good
Dragonfly out in the sun, you know what I mean, don't you know Butterflies all havin' fun, you know what I mean Sleep in peace when day is done, that's what I mean And this old world is a new world And a bold world For me For me
Stars when you shine You know how I feel Scent of the pine You know how I feel Oh, freedom is mine And I know how I feel
It's a new dawn It's a new day It's a new life
It's a new dawn It's a new day It's a new life It's a new dawn It's a new day It's a new life It's a new life For me
And I'm feeling good I'm feeling good I feel so good I feel so good🎵
During your whole performance, Alastor was staring at you in shock. Your voice was heavenly!!! Not only did you sound spectacular, but you were singing his favorite genre of music, JAZZ!! Oh how delightful!!! Catching him staring at you, you gave a small wink. Radio screech! His heart starting beating out of his chest at your little action. Getting back into singing, you failed to notice the slight pink in his cheeks after you did that. Soon your performance came to end. "I hope you all enjoyed it." You said into the mic. Looking back at Alastor, you noticed he look slightly off. He was staring at you like a deer in headlights literally. Waving your hand in his face managed to alert him. "Heavens! What an amazing performance that was! Encore! Encore!" His radio staff began to play another applause, causing you to blush. "We will be right back! In the meantime, please enjoy this incredible song, Lets Misbehave by Irving Aaronson!" Alastor pressed a button, letting the song play, and also pressed another to mute his and your mic.
He didn't say a word after he did that. Oh no, did you mess up? He didn't appear upset when you were singing. Your thoughts were interrupted when a set of strong hands grabbed you. It took you a moment to realize that Alastor had brought you into a hug, a tight one at that. "Astonishing performance my dear! You did such an amazing job!!" His arms continued to squeeze you, rocking you back in forth in excitement. Giggling at his actions you returned his hug. The hug lasted longer then you suspected, especially knowing Alastors physical contact condition. "Um Al? You can let go now." Jumping at that, Alastor released you. "Y-yes my dear! Apologies! I had gotten overexcited!" You told him it was fine. Straightening his suit and fixing his hair, he looked back at you again. "Given that adorable smile on your face, I take it you are very satisfied as well!"
Smiling you nodded: "I admit I was very nervous in the beginning, but those feelings went away the minute I started singing. Thank you Alastor!" His eyes were tender, looking back at you. One of his hands grabbed yours, giving it a squeeze. "I'm glad my dear! Would you be opposed to becoming a part of my business? I would very much like to have you as partner during my shows! I can also put in a good word for Mimzy to have you perform at her club! What do you think?" His enthusiasm was exploding like fireworks, it was honestly adorable how giddy he was. Not even wasting a second to think, you squeezed his hand back. "Seems like we got a deal, Alastor!"
~END~
Tagging:
@pepperycookie , @yourdoorisunlocked, @ghostdoodlen , @aceofcards0-0 , @jyoongim , @saturnhas82moons , @unholycheesesnack, @luujjvi, @forbidden-sunlight , @pinkcrystal44 , @veethewriter , @rains-sleeping , @danveration , @demoarah , @cookiekyo , @iiotic , @delectableworm , @91062854-ka , @alastorsgoldie
724 notes · View notes
linkemon · 28 days
Text
Confession headcanons
Friendly reminder that English is not my first language. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here. Consider supporting me on Ko-fi. You can also check out my commissions if you're interested.
Other headcanons from this series can be found here.
Part 1 | Part 3 of the confession headcanons.
This part contains: Sebek Zigvolt, Leona Kingscholar and Azul Ashengrotto.
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Sebek Zigvolt
• Sebek would experience shock after shock before he even confessed his feelings. The first clash with reality would be the realization that he loves someone. What is it about you being on his mind all the time? That he would like to protect you from all the troubles surrounding you? That he feels boundless pride when you praise him for the smallest things? He can't sleep at night and gets up to do extra sets of push-ups to calm down. It would get to the point where he would get frustrated and ask Lilia for advice. Is this the ideal person to turn to in this situation? In his opinion for sure...
• How much fun Vanrouge would have at his expense! His, not so little anymore Sebek, experiences his first love affair. In addition, with a human being. What a chuckle of fate. Apparently, his student had learned something in life. Lilia would give Sebek some advice, not all of which would be entirely accurate. Well, he won't make everything easy for him! And it's funny to watch him hand you a rare Briar Valley frog and hope it wins your heart. It's a pity the knight didn't tell you that to get this frog he had to kill several magical creatures during the holidays, you would probably look at it differently...
• Sebek would have a hard time accepting the fact that he fell in love with a human. Of course, his opinion changed gradually as he got to know you, but realizing that he had done exactly what he sometimes criticized his mother for would be like a bucket of cold water. He even tried to find arguments against it but every time he saw your face in front of his eyes, he decided that he couldn't do it.
• He definitely ran for Malleus' "blessing" once he was sure he wanted to be with you. Of course, he solemnly promised that it would not interfere with his duties. The prince didn't mind. He was happy that he would have the opportunity to see his friend more often.
• Briar Valley still has some slightly old-fashioned traditions. Although Sebek is aware that couples date and break up, he is intentionally trying to marry you in the distant future, from the very beginning.
• His confession consisted of an oath. After all, he is a knight in flesh and blood. With a bouquet of wildflowers, he knelt down and announced that he was going to defend, protect and love you until his last breath. If you let him, he will try to be worthy of you, the lady of his heart. He came up with this idea while reading chivalric romances so the ride back to your dormitory on a white horse is basically a complete must-have...
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Leona Kingscholar
• Leona would never be the first to admit the feeling growing in his heart. He has more important things on his mind than love. For example, a nap! And the fact that he ordered you to stay and sleep with him under threat was a completely different story.
• You decided to take matters into your own hands, because what is it supposed to be? You act like you're in a relationship. Your friends keep asking if you're a couple and you never know what to say, because they won't ask Kingscholar out of fear and it always falls on you. Grim sincerely hopes you are together. In his eyes, a rich prince means an endless supply of tuna. Even if he calls him a furball every chance he gets.
• One day, in a botanical garden, surrounded by beautiful flowers, you asked this one important question. Who wouldn't love me? That's what the sarcastic Leona said in response to your confession. Immediately afterwards, he squinted his eyes and happily went back to his fake nap.
• Outraged that he didn't even take you seriously, you tried to get up but failed. He hugged you tightly and pulled you to his chest. Only when you were so close to him did you realize how fast his heart was beating. You didn't know if all beasts were like that but the ghost of a smile on his lips confirmed your belief that they probably weren't. You didn't say anything for a moment, just listening to the fast rhythm. Just as you were about to say something, he opened his eyes and told you that you two could go out if you cared so much. Then he turned to his other side, saying that herbivores probably had nothing better to think about.
• Only on the verge of your sleep, wrapped in warmth, amid the scent of sweet flowers, did you hear a quiet voice in your ear "I love you", spoken in a deep and confident voice.
• You didn't want him to feel unpunished for such treatment, so for the next week you made it your goal to tell everyone you could that you were in a relationship. At first you thought it wouldn't bother him much, but when others started repeating it, he felt embarrassed, which he didn't hesitate to tell you when he really had had enough. At first it seemed to you that he wouldn't be much moved, but when others started repeating it, he felt embarrassed, which he didn't hesitate to tell you when he really had enough.
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Azul Ashengrotto
• There is no way he would try to confess his love before he has tried every means available to him to see if you feel the same way. The idea of revealing himself to someone to such an extent terribly terrifies him. It doesn't matter that you saw him at his lowest point during the overblot, it doesn't change anything about it.
• He wouldn't send the twins to do anything related to this "project" as he called it in his head. He doesn't even talk about it because he knows they would be making fun of him for weeks to come, especially Floyd. The truth is that Jade realized it incredibly quickly, but he's waiting for the right opportunity to take advantage of it...
• Azul would have dozens of plans for every eventuality and somehow everything would still fall apart. The first and most important rule he adopted was to stay away from Mostro Lounge. He took you to his home sea under the pretext of sightseeing. If something went wrong, no one from the academy would see it and he would have time to collect himself. At this first point his perfect plan ended.
• First, something broke in your transportation to the museum he wanted to take you to. Then it turned out that the crab serving you didn't want to let you in, mumbling something about being late. Without losing his nerve, Azul proposed his plan B, which was a restaurant. Of course, previously checked by him. But what good is it, since the owner broke the tentacle and closed it that same morning, leaving only a note on the door that she was very sorry. On top of it all, his favorite alley in the underwater park was destroyed by a herd of wild seahorses. That sealed his defeat. He meant well but it didn't work out. Tired, he lowered his hat and rubbed his glasses, pretending that he had not spilled a tear of ink at all.
• You had to come to his aid because you couldn't watch him struggle with his thoughts. You placed a kiss on his cheek, telling him that you had fun because you spent a lot of time with him and that you were happy because he rarely gave up work for someone. This gave him confidence and with a sigh, he led you to a place he wasn't particularly fond of but one he knew would be quiet and peaceful. It was on one of the coral terraces that he hid in from kids who tormented him when he was little. When he confessed his feelings to you and you replied that you reciprocated them, he felt that at least now he would have happy memories of this place.
• Azul doesn't need to know that Jade exposed him some time ago and he sold you the information that his boss reciprocated your feelings for quite a favour...
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starryknight-tarot · 9 months
Text
𝓦𝓱𝓪𝓽'𝓼 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓭𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓷𝔂?
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pile 1 -- > pile 2
pile 3 -- > pile 4
my masterlist<3 . paid readings
Hello beautiful souls✨ we are back in the building with another tarot reading. Today we will be looking into your destiny, a general idea of what your purpose is on this beautiful planet. Remember to meditate, take a deep breath and pick whatever pile calls to you the most. Since this is a general reading, make sure to take what resonates and leave what doesn't. Art by @pop_KOME on Twitter (or X lol).
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Pile 1:
Cards: Knight of Swords rx, Queen of Wands, The Chariot, Six of Wands, King of Cups, Eight of Cups, Five of Wands, Justice
Back of the Deck: Nine of Swords
Pile 1, your destiny is to be a leader. I feel a strong spiritual presence for this pile, I feel like you are very strongly protected by your spirit team, you may even have some powerful archangels in your spirit team. Also hearing some of yall may be an Aquarius and have heavy water energy in your birth chart. You are someone who has watched the people in your life be mistreated and conditioned to just suffer through traumatic experiences. But instead of following in the same path of suffering, you take action. Your destiny is to help the people around cope with life and make life feel a little easier. Some of you can do this just by being your true authentic self which encouraging others to do the same. Some of you are destine to be therapists, judges, lawyers, maybe even politicians. If any of you play Honkai Star Rail, you are giving major Natasha vibes. You are destined to run organisations that could literally save lives or make life a lot easier for people. I am also hearing some of yall could create something that would become really popular and almost in a way save people. Like, have you ever had a show or song or form of art that has shaped your life, taught you a lesson, or helped you from a really hard experience. Your destiny is to be that for people or create something that has that effect on people. I am seeing specifically Studio Ghibli so that could have an impact on you, or inspired you to create something. For some of you, your destiny is to be parent, but more specifically to help raise someone the right way(?). Kinda going along with what I was saying before, you may have had a really unhealthy home environment growing up and when it's your turn to be a parent, you will make it your mission to make sure your child doesn't have to go through what you went through, in a healthy way, of course if you don't want to be a parent then this doesn't apply. I just heard, "It's your job to call out the bullcrap." It's your purpose to stand up and say no when others won't or are too scared. You have a lot of influence on people Pile 1, and your purpose is to use it to help the people around you.
Advice Cards:
Align body, mind and spirit. Know that you are whole
Control is an illusion. Surrender and allow the Universe to guide you
Hold a positive outlook. You will see it when you believe it
To effect a change, you must be willing
Get clear about what you want
It is time to unclutter your body, mind, and spirit
Channeled Songs:
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Pile 2
Cards: The Emperor rx, Eight of Wands, The Hanged Man rx, King of Swords, Queen of Wands, Four of Wands rx, Page of Cups, The Sun
Back of the Deck: The Devil
Your destiny is to be a shining light in the darkness. The small ounce of hope when everything seems to be lost. Now that is a big role Pile 2. I heard just now, "Your duty is to spread warmth." and "All you gotta do is slay all day." LMAO. You may currently or in the past have felt like everything is hopeless and you may have repeated very negative affirmations. I feel like it's a part of your purpose to learn about how powerful words are and use it to your advantage. When you finally start to use your words in a way that shows hope and positivity, is when you will fully align with your higher self and see all the beautiful things that life truly has to offer. This pile reminds me of another reading I did, it was Pile 4 of my what makes you so attractive reading so if you picked that pile, this pile is definitely for you. If you are interested and haven't read that reading then I would highly recommend it. I feel like your destiny to spread kindness. I am seeing a scenario where you are working somewhere and someone was having a bad day, but after talking with you for a short while, they are in a really good mood and feel amazing. I feel like your use of words and how you express yourself freely is your purpose. I feel like this pile is the most likely to be famous, I am seeing specifically a streamer. I feel like you are just someone that people could listen to talk for hours and it just feels so calming and relaxing. I am kinda picking up on when Among Us was really popular and there was a handful of streamers that were just majorly comforting for people, especially since that was when COVID was really bad. If you did follow thoses streamers, you may know Sykkuno, and I am saying this because I feel like you have a very similar life purpose as Sykkuno or you are just very similar to him. I heard you are like a safe place for people. I feel like your purpose is to make a domino effect for love and kindness. Like when you smile at someone, they smile, and then they make someone else smile and it just spreads. Some of yall may be into yoga or maybe even wanna be yoga instructors. You could also be a masseuse. Your destiny is to be a comforting presence and to show people another way to look a life. (I feel like this pile is very different from Pile 1, however there are some messages from Pile 1 that I strongly feel that may apply to you so if you did feel called to Pile 1 as well, please do read it)
Advice Cards:
Remain faithful to your ideal and find trust within yourself
Control is an illusion. Surrender and allow the Universe to guide you
Remove all resistances and move into a state of flow
It is time to challenge old beliefs
You can manifest your heart's desire
To effect a change, you must be willing
Channeled Songs:
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Pile 3
Cards: Two of Pentacles rx, Knight of Pentacles, Strength rx, The Lovers, Page of Swords, Nine of Cups, Temperance, Three of Cups
Back of the Deck: Nine of Wands
There is some crazy beautiful messages for this pile. Your destiny is to see your dreams become a reality. I am getting that you are someone who has worked very hard for everything you have, I am hearing started from the bottom now we're here lol. Pile 3, all the hard work and love you have put into you goals and dreams are destined to shine brightly. You will be able eat the fruits of your labor. Honestly Pile 3, I just see good things coming towards you and it is so wholesome. I feel like there has been a lot of times where you've just wanted to give up and take the easy route of life, giving into words that say you will never achieve anything you strive to. But it is literally your destiny to succeed. Spirit is saying that all the times that have been rough and cruel have been so that when you finally get to relax and see your hard work flourish, it will feel even more rewarding. I feel like things you never thought would be possible for you will come true. Finding true love, a soul family that you can always rely on. I heard multiple people will fall in love you. Pile 3, its your destiny to go on a journey of self love, this journey may be a spiritual awakening for you, by connecting with spiritual, it can help you realize your true potential. I feel like all this love and success will take a while for you though, especially if you tend to put yourself down and don't acknowledge the work you need to do. I feel like some of you are really passionate about your dreams but fail to really push yourself and challenge yourself because of your insecurities. Don't try to be humble Pile 3, you are amazing and the world wants to see you shine! If you are procrastinating about the things you want to bring into your life and putting yourself down when you make mistakes, these blessings will delay and if it gets really bad, may never come. Mistakes are extremely human and we are meant to make mistakes to learn from them and improve even more. Believe in the power of your mind and creativity and the universe, and that's when blessings will manifest. Spirit wants you to enjoy life to the fullest and enjoy the things life has to offer.
Advice Cards:
Remain faithful to your ideal and find trust within yourself
Your spirit wings are unfolding. It is time to take flight!
Practice the pause
Keep the faith. Stay intentioned. Your perseverance will pay off
You are moving beyond your old form. Congratulations!
Relax and feel good. You deserve more joy!
Control is an illusion. Surrender and allow the Universe to guide
Channeled Songs:
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Pile 4
Cards: Seven of Pentacles, Queen of Swords, King of Swords, Four of Swords rx, Four of Wands, Seven of Cups, Six of Wands, Page of Cups
Back of the Deck: Ace of Swords
You have some fun energy Pile 4. It is your destiny to enjoy the ride of life. To let life take the wheel and chill in the fast lane. This pile got so much swords cards, so yall could be an air sign, Gemini, Libra, Aquarius, or have a very air heavy birth chart. With the swords cards I am getting that it's your destiny to be free. You may currently feel tied down by people and burdens that just feel so heavy and tiring. But it is your destiny to escape from the shackles of these things and have fun. You are supposed to enjoy the things you have missed out on for so long. I feel like you have felt held back by societies expectations of you and changed yourself to fit in. But the universe wants you to express yourself and show us who you really are. It will feel amazing when you do. People are always going to have problems with you being yourself because your confidence makes them feel intimidated in their own lack of self expression. They are all just jealous of you, so don't let them hold you back from enjoying the things you are passionate about and from feeling the wind on your skin. For some of you, it's your destiny to be a cool parent or like aunt or uncle. I feel like you will have a strong influence on the people close to you, you will be like a role model for the younger people around you. It's because you show them how beautiful freedom and just expressing yourself without worrying about what others think of can be. I also feel like you will meet someone that is your divine counterpart. Someone that understands you better than anyone else will. This could be romantic but it doesn't have to be. This connection will be something everyone will be envious of. This person is someone you know you will grow old with. Your destiny is to enjoy with a smile on your face.
Advice Cards:
Expect good things to come to you
It's time to try something new!
It is important to ask for help
To effect a change, you must be willing
It is time to challenge old beliefs
Act on what you know
You are divinely protected. Remind yourself how safe you are
Channeled Songs:
Thanks for tuning in₊‧.°.⋆🫧•˚₊‧⋆.
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slvt4felix · 2 months
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♡ I See the Light ♡
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Pairing -> lostprince!felix x thief!reader WC -> ~6,700 words Includes -> tangled!au, violence? (frying pan incident), reader is a criminal, fem!reader, lowkey abusive and manipulative "mother", kidnapping, magic, Bbokari as Pascal Summary -> After stealing a particularly precious item from the King and Queen, the royal guards push you deep into the woods during an exhilarating chase. You stumble across an interesting tower and start to climb, unaware of what you will come across once you reach the inside. Or rather, who you will come across and how this unique person will completely change the trajectory of your life. Author's Note -> I am like the biggest fan of Tangled. It's my all time favorite Disney movie. And when I think of Felix the first thing that comes to mind is sunshine and I feel like he is so Rapunzel coded. So yeah... don't mind that this fic is literally just all my favorite things combined. I hope you like it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Also this was only supposed to be one part, but I'm slowly starting to realize I'm really bad at writing short stories... so this story will definitely be multiple parts!
Masterlist ♡ Next Part
You pant, desperately trying to catch your breath as your legs move faster than they ever have before. They are starting to ache, along with your feet, your lungs, and just about everywhere else. But you can't stop, not right now. Not with the heavy footsteps just a few feet behind you and horses loud in the distance.
You stole something. Well, technically you have stolen many things, but what can you say? You were an orphan and never given the chance to make money more nobly. And this time, the object was just something you couldn't pass up.
You keep running, eyes trained directly in front of you. You desperately want to look behind you to see how much time you have, see just how much danger you're in, but the adrenaline and fear have you locked in. You won't stop, won't glance back at the angry guards until you manage to get some headway.
Your boot-clad feet heavily trample the ground underneath you, damaging the delicate blades of grass and petals of flowers that seem to multiply by the second. If only you were able to look down, you would notice the nature changing subtly underneath you. The rocky area you were previously in changed into a thick forest, covered in clover and wildflower.
If you weren't in this situation, perhaps you would've taken the moment to admire it. To take in your surroundings, breathing in the beauty of nature. But again, now's not the time. Maybe one day you will have the ability to stop and smell the flowers, but today there are more important matters at hand.
You hear a twig snap behind you and an unsettling crash. You instantly realize it to be a branch in the path that you had just jumped over. Luckily enough, after years of training, running, and stealing you can navigate your way through many terrains if needed. However, it seems like the guards behind you weren't so lucky. You swiftly turn your head and find exactly what you expect. The two burly men who had been hot on your trail now lay on a pile on the grass as the distance grows between you and them. You chuckle a bit to yourself upon realizing they must have dropped like dominos, one tripping with the other landing right on top. At this point, you were thankful for anything that could make you laugh.
Looking back ahead of you, you zone back into your mission. Your body aching to take a breather. You take a sharp turn, long used to getting out of these situations. This route change leads you down a steep hill. You almost tumble all the way down, but thankfully your dark brown boots have enough traction on them to help you safely make your way down. You jump off the last little way because what's escaping without a little extra adventure.
Now being back on the soft flat grass, you take in your surroundings, analyzing to try to make the best choice. The guys weren't likely to stay down for too long, so you have to make a decision and fast. You don't have time to try to get ahead, they would catch up in no time.
You realize you have been running for a while to try to escape the men. You weren't keeping track, but this is about as far as you have ever made it outside the kingdom. Everything looks untouched, giving off the vibes that maybe you shouldn't be here. It's ethereal looking, yet a bit unsettling at how everything seems to be in perfect harmony. The branches on the trees sway harshly in the wind and feels as if you were the one to disturb the peace, your presence entirely unwelcome.
You shake off the thoughts and roll your shoulders a bit. This was not the time for superstitions or paranoia.
'Maybe if those stupid guards hadn't chased me for so long,' you think bitterly. But in reality, you know you can't hold it against them. It's just their job, just like this is yours. It's just the way it is.
Typically you would have everything completely planned out. Especially the escape route. But, there was really no way to prepare for this. You usually don't get caught soon enough to actually get chased.
Panic floods your body as you begin to hear angry voices again. You're running out of time. The goal today was not to go to prison. You sigh angrily realizing there really isn't any simple escape route this time around. Before your brain even processes it, your feet are moving on their own accord, simply in fight or flight mode. But, today seems to be your lucky day and nature seems to be on your side.
You glance behind you after a few steps noticing that the men still hadn't caught up enough for you to be in their vision. In this slight hesitation, your foot catches on a branch growing from the ground likely belonging to one of the beautiful weeping willow trees surrounding you. It appears that the trees have inhabited this place for ages, their roots buried deep into the group and long wispy branches that hide practically everything behind them.
You stumble forward, your arms unable to find anything to grasp. You land harshly on your knees, making you hiss out in pain. You were definitely going to be covered in grass stains after this.
You quickly gather yourself, standing to your feet taking in your new surroundings. You falter a bit, unsteady due to the weight of your backpack making you a bit unbalanced. You must have fallen through into a small cave. The willow's long branches came down to hang in the entrance, blocking anyone from seeing the small hideaway. You're surrounded by rough, cool stone. There's a noticeable temperature difference that provides relief to your damp skin. The sun was beating on you aggressively the whole run, but hey at least it was bright enough out to see in front of you. It was the only reason you were brave enough to do this in broad daylight. Although it was easier to slip away in the dark, sometimes the paths of the kingdom and the forest surrounding can get pretty difficult to navigate after dark.
You hear heavy footsteps coming from the area you had just narrowly managed to escape. They sound pretty scattered, your mind providing you with the image of multiple royal guards rushing into the serene environment. You almost giggle at the thought of them all dressed head to toe in golden armor. A large sun engrained in their chest plate.
You peek slightly through the covering, seeing exactly what you had imagined. They are searching the area hastily in hopes of finding any clues as to which way you went. They look like children playing dress up, some of their spartan-like helmets falling over their eyes when they turn their heads obviously not fitting them properly.
One stalks past the opening, startling you backward. You hold your breath in fear. They may look silly, but that doesn't diminish the fact that they could positively ruin your life if they manage to capture you. You make your way farther into the cave, expecting to run into a rock wall blocking you in. You had planned to just hide it out in here until it was safe to leave, but soon you realize there may be another way to go about it. It seems to not really be a cave like you had initially thought. Rather, it appeared to be a tunnel of some sort. As you continue to walk the light grows dim. Before you know it, you can no longer see more than 2 steps in front of you. You put your arms out trying to feel in front of you. It would suck to run face-first into solid rock.
You bite your lip gently, starting to grow a little nervous at the lack of light and ability to see what's ahead. But you just have to deal with it at this point, anything to put more distance between you and the angry guards.
Soon you spy a light at the end of the tunnel, opposite from where you entered. You no longer hear any yelling or stomping and it gives you hope that maybe on the other side, there would be no one searching for you. They surely would have made it there by now if they could find it, right?
You emerge from the tunnel, eyes squinting as the sun's bright rays abuse your eyes again. When you finally adjust to the new lighting, you look around in amazement. You were somehow in a completely new area, large mountains and hills blocking the place in. It was unlike anything you had ever seen before. You had thought where you had just come from looked untouched, but this right here was actual nature at its finest.
It wouldn't be hard to believe you were the first human to step foot here in ages, the area completely overgrown with plants and animals. Yet, there was one unavoidable thing that proved that theory wrong. Standing high amid the greenery was a tall tower. It appeared nearly ancient, the stone crumbling a bit with vines wrapping their way up the walls.
It's honestly mystical with a stunning waterfall coming from one of the mountains just beyond the tower, painting the scene with a light mist. You notice that as the sun hits the vapor just right it creates little mini rainbows.
"Woah" you whisper. You aren't usually the type of person to talk to yourself, mostly preferring to keep your thoughts in your mind, but at this moment it felt perfectly justified. You spin in a circle, trying to take everything in. You had never really seen anything like this, despite the beautiful architecture the kingdom was made up of. This felt like something out of a fairy tale. Which you were so not used to. You aren't typically the main character. More likely the shady best friend or the villain who never really lives up to their name.
For a minute, you feel like someone else. Like one of the beautiful girls in the books you read who end up with the loves of their lives. Or even the protagonist in a high fantasy novel. At this point, you honestly wouldn't be that surprised if a fairy with sparkling wings flew out in front of you. It didn't even really feel like real life.
You approach the tower, eager to explore what you have found. You make sure to carefully walk across the wood that appears to have been thrown over the stream haphazardly in an attempt at a bridge. It doesn't exactly look stable and you weren't looking to get wet. But it was the only way across and you just had to get a closer look.
Surprisingly, you make it across with no damage and you sigh in relief. The material of your outfit does not feel nice wet. You had learned that the hard way last time you had stolen something.
You scan the perimeter of the tower, shocked at the realization that there is no door. You double-check, a little put-off at the idea, and again find no door. Not even an opening or one that had been covered by the overgrown bushes and flowers that had taken over the landscape.
'Who makes a tower with no entrance?' you question, your stomach turning slightly beginning to get an eerie feeling. It was just a little… odd. But who were you to say how something should be built? You aren't exactly an architect. And maybe things were just built differently back then.
You knew it was ridiculous to try and justify something as weird as this, but you couldn't help your brain trying to connect the dots. But it just doesn't make sense. You take a few steps back, trying to figure out how to approach the situation. The lack of an entrance is disheartening as you were beginning to think maybe you could've stayed here for a while. There was no way you could go back to the villages of the kingdom right now. They would definitely be searching for you. And if you could find an easy way into this place, it would be a nice spot to hide out until everything cools down.
You spot windows near the top of the tower and suddenly you realize, the window directly above you is wide open. That is your chance. You feel around the stone bricks that make up the base of the building hoping you can catch your fingers in the cracks. You manage to get a little bit of a grip, but not much. There's no way you could make it all the way up there by just climbing. None of the rocks jut out enough.
You gasp out, an idea rushing into your head. You reach down where a leather sheath is strapped to your thigh. You carefully grab your dagger out. it was only one, but it could definitely help. You didn't like carrying a knife on you, but it did become really useful sometimes. You didn't use it much, especially not to hurt people. It's more of a just-in-case option. You bring the metal up to your eyes admiring how the afternoon sunlight reflects off it, the handle carefully engrained with beautiful roses.
You would be lying if you said it didn't kind of make you feel like a badass.
You lodge the dagger into the cracks and use it to try and pull yourself up a bit. It was definitely helpful as you thought. You kick your feet against the stone, hoping to find a decent push-off spot. With the traction on your shoes and your leather gloves protecting your hands both providing a bit of grip, this might actually be possible. And at this point, what exactly did you have to lose? It would be such a nice shelter to rest in for the night.
You carefully, make your way up the tower, thankful for the wood that occasionally wraps the bricks giving you a place to catch your breath.
Finally, you manage to make it to the top, your chest heaving slightly and your fingers burning from the pressure. In your haste to pull yourself up the last little bit of the wall and slide through the window, you fail to notice the soft noises coming from inside. There's some shuffling, but you brush it off assuming it's some animal that had also decided to make this place its shelter.
You throw your leg through the window taking a second to sit there and catch your breath. You're straddling the bit of wood framing the window, it's delicately carved and decorated with light purple flowers on the ledge. You take a mental note of them, hoping to admire them later once you're settled.
Deeming yourself steady enough, you pull your other leg through standing up in the large room. As much as you want to take everything in, you first slip your backpack off. Nervous that things had gotten jostled on the way up. You open the buckle and slip the top open. You set the bag gently on the ground, squatting next to it as you pull out a sparkling crown.
You sigh in relief that it was still there, it hadn't fallen out. There wasn't even a singular scratch on it. The feeling of the cool metal weighing heavy in your hands punches a sigh of relief from your lungs.
"Thank God," you whisper to yourself, breaking the gentle silence of the room you entered. You had stolen the crown. It’s why the royal guards were after you. You had entered the castle through the ceiling and stolen the crown, the guards just barely noticing as you were exiting. It was the most valued object in the whole kingdom. The importance of the crown is in how it is associated with the lost prince.
It was the most well-known story in the country and maybe even the whole world. Everyone had been so ecstatic. The Queen and King were having a baby. An heir to take over the throne when they grew old and gray. But, the Queen had grown increasingly sick as the pregnancy progressed. You had been just a baby when all this was happening, but over the years you have heard of the story many times. It was hard not to. It was everywhere you went.
Thankfully, the Queen recovered. They had found a magical flower that had the power to heal her. The baby came soon after and the whole kingdom rejoiced. They had a beautiful baby boy, with golden locks and soft skin. They released a bright lantern into the indigo sky in celebration.
However, everything went wrong that night. The new parents had heard their baby cry in the early hours of the morning but when they got there he was already gone. Never to be seen again. They still hold hope that maybe one day their baby will return home. Even going as far as to hold an annual festival for him and releasing hundreds of floating lanterns into the sky on his birthday. It was honestly a gorgeous sight.
You go to put the crown back into your bag, still nervous to get scratches or fingerprints on it. It was worth a lot of money. A deal you couldn’t pass up. Just as your fingers leave the smooth metal you hear a shuffling noise coming from your side. Your head shoots up looking to discover where the noise is coming from.
You're shocked at the sight that greets you. You stand up, nearly stumbling back at the surprise. There in front of you was… another human? How in the world had he gotten up here? You didn't hear anyone else climb up after you and it's hard to believe someone could do that silently. Did that mean they had already been here when you arrived? Why were they here?
So many questions flood your head that you barely have time to react as an object comes flying toward your head. You quickly duck down, just barely missing the dark metal by an inch. You pop back up, thankfully agile from all your years as a criminal. Once you regain your footing, your eyes take in the sight of a young man standing in front of you. He has probably the lightest blonde hair you have ever seen in your life paired with deep brown eyes. The sun shines on him, making him look as if he was the sun lighting up the room. You're a little taken aback at the sight of him. Typically you are pretty good at reading people, but it seems like you aren't exactly making the best choices today. He doesn't exactly look like the type to try to hit somebody over the head with a heavy frying pan, but here he is sanding with the weapon of choice in his right hand.
He stares back at you while standing in a nervous, defensive stance. But to be fair, you would also be feeling quite uncomfortable if you had tried to take someone's head off and somehow managed to miss.
The stare lasts longer than most people would deem necessary, silence yet again filling the large stone room. Yet, neither of you break it. You're still reeling in shock from the frying pan.
Finally, you gather yourself and question him. "Did you really just try to hit me with a frying pan?" you ask in disbelief. His eyes widen when you speak. He looks more shocked than you feel, which is really saying something. He looks as if he has never interacted with another human before. For a split second, you wonder if maybe you were being too harsh on him.
But before you can get another word in a call sounds from outside.
"Felix, my love, I'm home," a woman yells in the distance. The boy's, who you now assume to be Felix, head shoots to the window in a panic. He turns to you, now looking even more anxious than before.
"You have to go, you have to go like now. She will actually hurt you. Like with more than a frying pan," he whispers as he comes much closer, his voice a surprisingly gravelly tone. You can practically feel the vibrations of it on your skin and you're stunned for a moment, frozen in place. He grabs your wrist, not unkindly, and leads you to the back wall of the room. You watch him carefully as he proceeds to open the door to an armoire, making you wonder what exactly his plan is. He gestures inside and you simply stare at him struggling to comprehend the situation.
"I'm not hiding in your closet," you spit, slightly insulted he would even suggest that.
"Do you want to get killed?" He asks, his tone firmer this time. You can tell he's serious, and your hands start to shake upon realizing how urgent he sounds.
He continues on despite your silence, eager to get you to follow along. "Listen, I don't know who you are or why you're here, but this is really bad timing. I was going talk to her about something important and now... you're here," he starts sounding utterly defeated. He knows explaining the situation to a random stranger likely wasn't going to help, but he was still going to try.
"She doesn't normally listen to me and she definitely won't if she has to deal with you, so just please hide. Just until I can get her to leave. Then I guess I'll figure out what to do," he finishes with a sigh and stares back at you hopefully. You simply nod slowly a little stunned. Felix realizes this is the closest he'll probably get to agreeance and doesn't try to convince you any further.
He grabs your hand gently as you step into the closet, helping you stay stable in the crowded space. You're surrounded by clothes of every color, so many blues and pinks that if you squint hard enough you can practically imagine you're walking into cotton candy.
"Just stay quiet, I'll try to get her to go away," He states quietly. He nods at you reassuringly and it comforts you. You still feel very trapped, but you no longer feel as nervous, rather trusting the man to take care of it for you. You don't know why he hasn't freaked out at you yet, but if he was going to, it probably would've already happened. He shuts the door slowly, dimming the small space. You watch his figure until the last little bit of light can no longer slip through, shutting you off from the room you had just been in.
Thank God you're not claustrophobic.
Once the door is completely shut, you're unable to see anything aside from black for a while, your eyes refusing to adjust to the sudden darkness. However, you listen carefully to everything happening outside the armoire in hopes of getting a better read on everything happening.
You hear Felix shuffling around in the room, obviously cleaning things up and maybe even hiding things considering his fearful reaction to the women's yell. You can hear her shout again from outside, but you can no longer make out what she says. The wood is too thick to depict more than a murmur. But, Felix seems to have heard what she has said. The noises from the room get much louder and rushed. Before suddenly they stop.
You hold your breath in the quiet, anxiously waiting for what comes next.
Felix takes a deep breath, glancing around the room one last time to make sure everything is nice and clean. He had noticed your bag left by the window, the stolen crown peeking out. A little chick, whom Felix had named Bbokari had been poking around next to it making him laugh in adoration of the small creature. He must have hidden when you had broken in, scared of the stranger. But that was to be expected, considering every time mother arrived home, Felix would tell the small chick to hide, pushing him out of sight. Now, Mother wasn't mean or an animal abuser. She had never hurt Bbokari before, but Felix honestly did not want to take that chance. She wasn't exactly a fan of critters or any type of outsider making their way into her tower.
He gives the chick a tiny pat on the head with his index finger, the small bird tweeting happily, before curiously picking up the crown. It shined brightly, the sun catching on the metal as he picked it up.
What in the world? he thinks in confusion. Out of all the things Mother has brought home, this is definitely not something he's seen before. It does, however, remind him of the fairytales he had read as a kid before she had confiscated them in an angry fit. She didn't like when he read about that stuff. It had confused him greatly, as she had never really told him why. So, rather than reading about princesses he was often stuck with books about nature or fiction stories about romance.
The chick pecks at his foot, urgently, trying to remind him of the situation at hand. He snaps out of it quickly putting the crown back in the leather bag. He brings it over to the stairs in the corner. He peels back the one broken step, shoving the bag beneath it. Not even mother knew of this hiding spot. He had to hide the bag, she would ask way too many questions about where that came from. He knows that realistically he should be scared about a stranger practically breaking into the tower. But maybe there's a small part of him that wants to prove himself to his mother. Show her that he really can handle himself. He's turning 18 tomorrow and maybe just maybe now that he's old enough, she'll let him go.
He's had this dream since he was little, to see the floating lights. Every year, they appear on his birthday. Hundreds of bright yellow lights fill the sky, and he cannot seem to figure out why. Either way though, he can't help but feel like they're meant for him. And every year, without fail, he watches them. He looks forward to it all year round, waiting for the day he can see the floating lights gleam again. It's his dream to see them up close in person, but it's starting to seem like it may be simply that- just a dream. How silly of him to think it's something that could actually happen.
Mother becomes very angry anytime he asks to leave the tower, or simply mentions anything about the outside world, but he feels confident this time. She's definitely going to let him go; she has to right? It's his only hope.
"Darling, I'm not getting any younger down here," Mother Gothel yells, sounding exasperated. He quickly picks Bbokari up, hiding him on a ledge behind a curtain, giving him a loving smile before rushing to go help her up.
She had created this tower without a door, purposefully hoping to keep him as far away from the outside and other people as she could. And hell, he couldn't blame her. After all the stories she has told him, he's thankful he's never been exposed to the harshness of the world.
Felix jogs over the window, leaning over the edge, feeling the soft spring breeze blow through his hair.
"Coming Mother!" he yells, adding excitement to his voice. Despite his earlier nervousness, he can't help but be excited whenever she comes home. She often takes long trips, only coming home for days at a time. He'll take any sort of human interaction he can get.
Felix grabs the rope from the wall next to the window, swinging it over the hook hanging down. He throws the rope over, watching his Mother grab it harshly once it hits the ground. Since there is no door, they use a sort of pully system. There's a loop at the bottom of the rope that mother slips her foot into and she holds onto the rope as Felix pulls her the rest of the way up.
It was exhausting, but he's gotten used to it over the years. Luckily, he's gotten a lot stronger over the years. Especially since now that he's older she goes on her trips a lot more. Don't get him wrong, he's thankful, he really is as these trips usually involve getting food or gifts for Felix and her. However, the days can get lonely and fast. There's only so much cleaning, baking, painting, and singing a person can do. It's the reason the walls of the tower are completely covered in different paintings. Some have even been painted over multiple times; he ran out of space long ago. Being home alone for days on end without being able to go outside isn't exactly the dream life some people would think. But he gets it. There are reasons he can't go outside and he must abide to keep himself safe.
So, he pushes the anger and resentment deep inside, painting on his happiest face for her to come home to. He finishes pulling her up and wipes a bead of sweat from his face as she finally steps into the sun-lit room.
She walks over to his bed, placing down her basket and shawl before returning to him. She always looks a bit run down when she comes home, her hair a bit more grey, wrinkles on her forehead, and this haunted look in her eyes. Honestly, it's enough to make him never want to go outside.
The woman caresses Felix's cheek gently, looking into his eyes. He has always loved whenever she was gentle with him, providing love and care, but it's starting to becoming rarer with each passing day.
"Felix, I don't know how you manage to do that day after day, dear," She says softly with a bit of concern.
"It's nothing, Mother," he reassures her, despite how exhausting it truly is. She lets go of him, before he can even finish the sentence, her gaze scanning the rest of the room.
"You keep it so nice and clean in here, it's so nice for Mumsy to come home to," she says, always impressed by the things he manages to get done while she's away. Felix cringes a bit at the statement, knowing he had finished cleaning at barely 7:30 am. It truly was the easiest part of the day. Honestly, the hardest part is always the waiting. Waiting for someone, anyone, to talk to or really just anything to do.
Mother walks over to his mirror that stands near the wall. It's circular and nothing fancy, framed in wood, but she looks at it as if it holds all the answers to life, like it's the most important thing in the world. Sometimes Felix wonders if she loves the mirror more than she loves him, but he quickly pushes that thought down, not wanting it to sour his mood anymore than it already has.
He follows her over to the mirror watching in disdain as she examines her face. Lifting her eyebrows and wincing as the skin drops back down, wrinkled and droopy from her trip. She glances up at him, making eye contact through the reflective glass. In this moment, Felix decides he needs to ask her. He's been waiting all day, or really his whole life, and he really just needs to put it out there.
He opens his mouth ready to admit his dream to her, but he's quickly cut off.
"Felix, my love, would you sing for me?" she asks, and despite her trying to hide it, he can detect the desperation in her voice. He's learned to pick out even the slightest change of tone from her over the years.
Felix's eyes widen, almost comically. How could he have forgotten. It's always the first thing she asks for when she gets back. Of course, she would want him to sing for her. His plan is just going to have to wait for a few more minutes.
He nods repeatedly, rushing off again to grab all the necessary supplies. He places Mothers chair down in the center of the room, before grabbing his flimsy stool, setting it in front of the chair. He sits down quickly, trying to hurry the situation along despite knowing how mother likes to take her time during the process. Going too quickly can become a bit more shocking than refreshing, but today was not the time for relaxation.
Mother finally comes over and takes a seat in her usual chair. She grabs Felix's hands and he can only hope she doesn't feel how sweaty they are. He's so nervous about how the conversation is going to go.
His mind is racing as he opens his mouth to start singing. The words coming with ease, practically muscle memory now with how many times he has sang it for her.
"Flower gleam and glow," he starts, his low voice bouncing off the circular walls. He can see her instantly start to relax as his voice fills the room. It makes Felix feel a bit better, knowing how happy it makes her when he sings. As the song continues, he starts to speed up, again eager to get it over with. Mother's eyes open again in panic, wanting the feeling to last longer.
"Wait-" she starts to say, but Felix has already made it to the ending line. As the song comes to a close, Mother jolts forward practically turning into a new person. Her hair is back to it's usual shiny raven color, a new sense of life brimming from her eyes, and all the wrinkles immediately disappearing from her skin. She's young again, just like she likes to be. He can't blame her, who doesn't wish to be young again.
Normally at this time, Felix would compliment her or tell her how he finds her beautiful before and after, but this time there is something else weighing on his mind. He can only hope that the wood of the closet is thick enough and that he had managed to close the door all the way, knowing sometimes it wouldn't latch completely.
This is the last thing he wants you to find out about. He's terrified you'll turn out to be one of those ruffians and thugs Mother warns him about, wanting to steal him away and use him for his magic.
Oh yeah, Felix has this magical ability where he can heal people with just his touch and voice. He can easily make anyone young again and heal all kinds of wounds. It's why he's in this tower, locked away. It's to keep him safe. Mother doesn't want his power to end up in the wrong hands.
She looks down at Felix in disbelief, not understanding why he is acting this way. He stands up abruptly from the small stool, the same one he has sat in since he was a child, and starts to talk, unable to keep it in anymore.
"Mother, tomorrow is a very special day. Do you know what day it is?" he asks, mouth running a mile a minute. She stands up with him, grabbing his wrist lightly, trying to stop him from pacing around the room. All the energy is making her head spin.
He doesn't even wait a second to let her respond, before reminding her, "It's my birthday!"
"Ah ah ah," she starts, "I distinctly remember that your birthday was last year." Felix tries not to let himself physically deflate at this. She always loves to play games like this.
"That's the funny thing about birthdays, they happen every year," he says gently, not wanting to anger her.
"What is it you want this year? How about those muffins you really liked from that one bakery?" she says, figuring that's what this conversation was about.
"Actually, Mother I was thinking, maybe I could go see the floating lights?" he asks, "The one's that fill the sky every year on my birthday."
At this her gaze immediately darkens, and he realizes that he was right. It's only a dream. It's not something that could come true. He should have known better. She would never let him leave the tower. She's told him this so many times before.
Yet, he couldn't help but try. It's who he is. He's too hopeful and innocent for his own good.
"Felix, you know how I feel about you leaving the tower," she states, her voice a low tone. Felix suppresses a shiver, his body reacting anxiously.
"But Mother-" he starts, hoping to explain himself.
"No buts, they are just stars, Felix, nothing worth putting yourself in danger for," she says, using an argument he had thought of many times.
"They aren't though, I have charted every single star in that sky, and it just doesn't fit. I can't help but feel like they are meant for me."
"Felix, do not argue with me" she says, her volume rising drastically. He knows she can get worked up fast with sensitive topics, but he really wishes she would just listen to him.
"Don't ever ask to leave this tower again," she says sternly as her grip around his wrist tightens harshly. He winces, tears pooling in his eyes, but he doesn't let them fall.
'Don't cry,' he repeats desperately in his head. She would never take him seriously or believe he could handle himself if he cried in front of her.
"Yes, Mother" he says back quietly, knowing there is no use fighting with her. She pats him gently on the head, satisfied with his answer, before moving back over to her basket. She starts to put her things back in their rightful spots, unpacking after her trip.
"Mother-" Felix starts again only to stop as her head aggressively snaps towards him, anger evident on her face.
"Enough about the stars, Felix," she yells in disbelief. Felix shrinks back instinctually. That wasn't even what he was going to say.
"I was actually thinking maybe you could get me more of those special paints you got me a few years ago," he says timidly, trying to come up with something else that she would be more willing to comply with.
"That's a 3-day trip," she sighs out in annoyance.
"I just thought it would be a better idea than... you know," he explains.
"Alright, dear, are you sure you'll be okay?"
"I know I'm safe as long as I'm here," he says back knowing just what she wants to hear. Felix helps as she goes to repack up her stuff, preparing for the long trip ahead of her.
"I love you, my flower," Mother says before she leaves the tower again, climbing down the rope to the soft grass of the outside world.
"I love you more," he says back. It's his usual response, but this time the words feels heavy coming off his tongue, almost as if it doesn't really weigh as truthfully in his heart as it did this morning. Everything just feels wrong.
Bbokari steps out from behind the curtain, chirping at him loudly. It was surprising how loud such a tiny animal could be. Felix walks over to him, gently petting him.
"Everything's going to be okay," he says softly, unsure if he's truly assuring the chick or himself.
A loud snore startles him from the interaction. Bbokari turns his head cutely towards the closet where the noise came from.
Felix sighs bumping his head lightly on the wall above the ledge.
“I don’t want to handle that right,” he says with a chuckle. Bbokari just looks up at him adamantly and Felix knows exactly what the little bird is trying to say. He can’t just keep you in the closet.
Felix rolls his eyes playfully before heading over to the armoire to let you out. However, he does grab his frying pan on the way… just in case.
More parts coming soon!!
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leonw4nter · 3 months
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Give Me A Star In The Sky and Promise To Be By My Side
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Knight!RE4R!Leon x Mermaid!F!Reader
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fluff, medieval setting, no use of super flowery words, mentions of death/dying (once or thrice i think)
SUMMARY : Leon's a knight in shining armor but he begs to differ because he swears God sent him an angel with a voice that outshines all that comes along with an even shinier mermaid tail.
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Fighting. Killing. Coming back alive when men you considered your brothers are dead. This is all something Leon is used to ever since the royal family has taken him in as their knight; no compensation, no amount of pay could ever repair the damage that fighting mutant horrors beyond human comprehension has done to him. He has lost it all– friends, family, and the will to live. He has considered ending this torment with a rope around his neck but he never could bring himself to do so; someone has to do the job because if he doesn’t, then who will? He takes a swig of the strongest whiskey he can get his bloodied hands on, hoping to drown his sorrows and dissolve the faint image of his comrade’s mangled body that lingered in his mind like a taunt that he will never rebuild his life again and one day, he too will die like this and there will be no loved one to grieve his death; no one to lay flowers on his grave, no grave to be paying respects to but as if there was ever anyone in his life to visit him in the first place. He did not think that he would be deserving of praise or recognition; no matter how many times he scrubs his hands clean, there would always be blood on them. He zones out, dead blue eyes focused on nothing in particular as the voices that taunt him grow louder and sound as if they’re doubling in number. The grip on his glass falters, fingers trembling as tears flood the waterline of his eyes. Forcing himself to get a grip, he refills the glass and takes another long swig as he lets the drink burn his throat.
God must certainly exist because it’s as if He saw Leon struggling to keep the voices at bay and decided to send down an angel to sing solely to overpower the demons with her powerful voice; Leon thinks that maybe God still has some compassion to spare for a rabid stray like him. Leon keeps his head down, trying to keep himself grounded as a euphonious voice begins to sway his soul and move him gently. He finally looks up and sees a singer on stage, clad in a beautiful red dress; the color red never fails to make Leon feel a twinge of betrayal and hurt but this red is a shade he will always associate with silencing the raging screams in his troubled mind.
The peace is interrupted when a group of drunken men stumble to the front of the stage, filthy hands reaching out to touch her legs. Her voice weakens and trembles slightly, eyes widened and darting to and fro from the audience and towards the men. Leon decides that this is enough and gets up from his seat, walking over to the front of the stage and grips the wrist of one man tightly but the man does not give up easily; punches thrown, glass shattered, and noses bloody, guests pour out of the club, leaving you and him alone. He tells you his name and you offer yours, both of you knowing full well this is not the last time you two will see each other again. With a small nod, he turns around and heads out the door to retire back to his quarters. Swiftly, you grab a cloak and run outside to follow him. He hasn’t wandered too far off from the club so manage to catch up to him, placing a hand on his back. As a small token of your thanks, you give him a mermaid scale. Drawing him a little nearer, you place the iridescent golden scale on the pocket of his gambeson and give it a safe little pat before pulling away.
“What was that for?” he asks, gaze falling to his pocket.
“It’s a thank-you from me. I feel the need to repay you for defending me so I decided to give you my scale.” you respond, a small smile on your lips.
“A fish scale?”
“Mermaid scale.”
“I’ve seen large, rare fish sold to merchants with scales like these but thank you, I guess. I just did what’s right.”
All the singer does is laugh and look up at him with sparkly eyes.
Leon tries not to hide the bewildered look in his face. Mermaids are not real, they’re simply manatees that explorers have misidentified but she seemed a little too kind and eager to express her thankfulness so he takes it, not saying another word. It wouldn’t hurt to keep around a rare fish’s scale so he decides against giving it back or throwing it away on his way to his quarters.
“I’ll see you around, Leon.” you respond before giving him a small bow and heading back in. He looks back at you once but you look back three times, incredibly grateful for such a man to have stepped in and done something about the harassment.
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Even after a few days of the charming singer giving him the scale, he still keeps it around and carries it with him everywhere. He doesn’t know why he does so but he just does, perhaps out of respect for the singer; maybe it’s in her culture to give a kind stranger something like that and he’s just respecting whatever customs she may have. Sometimes, he pulls the scale out and holds it up to the sun or whatever source of light there is to admire the scale. The scale is a lot thicker and bigger than the usual fish scale so he figures that it must have come from a bigger kind unknown to the region. He has also decided to frequent that club more, staying around not for alcohol alone but also the music; the club had two or three singers but out of all, he most preferred to hear you sing. You always looked radiant, making the room seem brighter than it is but whenever you spot him in the sea of spectators, he swears you seem to look a lot brighter. You two don’t talk, him being a man of few words and you being an introverted person but occasionally exchange glances that said enough. It is easy to admit that the man is attractive but she didn’t feel anything more than just the mere urge to offer the man some company and same goes with him yet there were times where he felt his heart thrum whenever he recalled the way the corners of your eyes wrinkled whenever you smiled, how your eyes squint first before a bright grin graces your red lips; the way your glossy hair would softly sway along to the song as if there were waves causing your hair to dance along to the melody. He found himself subconsciously looking around for any threat looming around to disrupt the peaceful atmosphere you have effortlessly created and to keep you safe, of course. He also began to cut back on the whiskey he always got, making sure he only limited himself to a number of glasses in order to stay sober so he could rush in and protect you fast if the situation arose.
This night, being in the club would stay in his imagination as he is sent to roam the forests for threats of those crazy cultists running around and planting parasite eggs around; news of livestock and villages from more rural portions of the kingdom reached the town, causing the king to raise alert levels within the kingdom’s line of defenses. The evening sky is dark, littered with shimmery dots of white and silver moonlight that beamed through tall and dark trees. The gale is cold, a refreshing contrast to the hot afternoon; the wind gently blows, as if caressing Leon’s body like he’s made of thin glass and gently ruffling his slightly unkempt blond hair. He’s not wearing his usual bulk of armor tonight, opting for white long sleeves and a black leather doublet over it; a belt to contain his sword and daggers hang on his waist, causing a faint clanking noise with each stride. Despite being tall and muscular, his footfalls were trained to be as light and noiseless as possible to keep him undetected when he was on duty. However, light footfalls are nothing when you fail to keep yourself guarded and fall prey to who you are supposed to be preying on. An assassin sneaks up from behind him and renders him immobile, a handkerchief damp with a sedative substance clamped over his mouth which causes him to lose his consciousness. The assassin holds his heavy body, pulling it to some place else to effectively keep him immobile. Blade belt removed, hands and ankles tied, a black cloth covering his eyes, the assassin lugs him to a cart used for the transport of the dead and takes on, disguising themselves as someone assigned to pick up bodies and send them to a burial ground in order to properly execute their mission.
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“Leon! Leon!,” Chris calls out. The man walks and looks around, his booming voice reverberating through the woods.
“Where in the hell is he,” he mumbles softly. Leon is someone who always knows the way and would always come back; he could be set to drift out at sea with a blindfold to his eyes and his arms constricted but he would always get back, no matter what.
“No sign of Leon anywhere,” Luis responds. Luis, one of the palace’s scholars, had been called over by Chris to ask him about Leon’s whereabouts. When Leon was not hanging around the barracks, he could be seen in Luis’ laboratory flipping through books or observing Luis’ notes.
“Ran off with a certain lady friend of his, perhaps?” he jokes, a failed attempt at making the situation lighter. Chris’ forehead creases with worry, fumbling around his pockets for a cigarette only to remember that he left it at his chambers. “So much for trying to quit.” he thinks to himself. They continue discussing where Leon could be, occasionally calling out his name every now and then, wading deeper into the forest. Suddenly, they hear a child’s helpless screaming. The screaming sounded a little more reverb, as if he was trapped somewhere.
“You hear that?” Luis asks, to which Chris nods.
“We’ll help you kid! Hold on!,” Luis exclaims as he and the other brunette set off to find the source of the noise.
“Help us! We’re in a well!” the kid exclaims. Luis raises an eyebrow at Chris; We? What did he mean by “we”? Could it be that Leon is with the kid too?
The pair rushes to the source of the sound, the child’s voice growing clearer and clearer with each speedy stride. Finally, a well comes into their view and they sprint towards the well. They peer down and see Leon, finally conscious but his head is tipped up for if not, he would sink below the water and drown. On his shoulder is the child, legs untied but hands bound together. His clothes are wet, cheeks deeply flushed from all the crying he’s done. The way they are positioned looks odd; the kid, despite being much much smaller than Leon, is standing with the water up until his ankles whilst Leon looks like he’s struggling to keep his head up and it occurs to them that he’s letting the kid stand on his shoulders to call out for help despite his weakened state.
“Don’t worry, we’ll get you chico!” Luis exclaims before scrambling off to find a rope, a vine– whatever they can use to get the kid and Leon out. Luckily, a portion of the rope was stuck on a stone that jutted out from the inside of the well and if Chris took a stick and brought a portion of the rope up, he could get them both out. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a stick sturdy enough to support the weight of a child but Luis piped up with an idea.
“Chico, can you jump for me?” Luis calls out. He smiles half-heartedly, trying to stir up some feelings of confidence in the kid.
“I’m going to need you to jump as high as you can and grab on to that stone,” he adds with a slender finger pointing to the stone that juts out.
“Think you can do that for me?”
The kid hesitates for a moment, looking down at Leon and back up. His bottom lip quivers and a look of fear flashes in his bright green eyes before shaking his head and breaking out into a new set of tears. A grunt could be heard coming from Leon, all his energy going into keeping his body up for the kid; he hasn’t even broken out of the ropes, more focused on getting the child out before himself.
Luis mutters something in Spanish and Chris considers shedding his armor to climb down and somehow try to get the kid and Leon himself, even if the odds are stacked up against everyone. Without warning, a yelp from the kid could be heard as he took a leap without warning, one tiny tied hand holding onto the rock.
“Help me!” the kid cried in a shaky voice and nasal tone. Chris bent down as deep as he could, his hand stretched and trying to get the kid’s wrist and lift him up.
“This might hurt a little but it’ll be fast, I promise!” he says before finally getting the kid’s wrist. Luis holds on to his waist to keep him from dipping into the well too much. With a few grunts, Chris finally manages to lift the kid out. Luis sheds his coats, wrapping it around the shivering kid as he tells the child to sit beside the well and try to stay warm. Leon, however, stays trapped and has gone beneath the water due to the downward thrust when the kid lept. The two men above the water consider shedding whatever clothing and dividing down, spotting a golden glow beneath the water. Golden? But the moon appears silver this evening; the faint light appears as if it’s beneath the waters. Interesting.
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She is backstage, gently patting powder into her face as she gets ready for tonight’s performance. She has her best pink dress on, silk embroidery casting a peachy sheen whenever golden candle-light struck the threads; long locks of her hair is kept away from her delicate face using starfish hair clips, strands defining the plumpness of cheeks the shade of tropical corals and framing her soft jaw. She spreads her lips into a wide smile, trying to get more of the product into her cheeks when she feels a sharp pain in the left side of her chest. She hastily returns the powder puff into the pot, a dainty hand flying to her chest and clutching it as she tries to catch her breath. The pain persists for a few more seconds until she realizes that someone may be in dire trouble. Hurriedly, she grabs her coat and runs out of the club. The ache in her chest could only mean one thing: a recipient of her scale needs her help right away, that recipient being Leon. Leon is the only person she’s ever offered her scale to, that tiny iridescent thing connecting the both of them in a way she didn’t quite expect. She has heard of what offering a scale could entail but she didn’t expect it to be like a map; she doesn’t know where he is but a connection to an item of hers just leads her there. She speeds through the thickness of the forest, legs pumping fast to get her to him as fast as possible. Not too long after, she spots a well and she feels the ache grow stronger. A hand flies up to unclasp her coat, hurriedly moving over to the clips in her hair to let it drop down to the floor. She spots two men and a child right by the well, the men shedding their shirts and vests. One of the men, the tanned and lean one between the pair, reaches out to her but she doesn’t pay them any mind. Stretching her arms in front of her and keeping them together, a shimmery flash of pink plunges into the well and hits the water with a loud splash. Immediately, her eyes adjust to the darkness and her legs shift into an opalescent gold tail. With a strong kick, she sets off to find Leon whose eyes are closed. She spots a muted gold glow in his chest pocket, her scale and sees his hands below his back. Hastily, she swims up to him and takes his arms; a broken piece of rope is attached to wrist and the same goes for his ankles. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she swims them both to the surface of the water but his eyes are still closed. Offering him some of her strength, she unwraps her arms from his wrist and places her tender hands on his face, she lets her lids drape over her eyes and brings her face near his. Tilting her head, her soft lips meet his lightly chapped ones; a surging tide of warmth and some miraculous strength courses through Leon’s formerly limp body, eyes slowly flying open only to be met by a blur of dark blue and a stinging sensation which causes him to shut them again. He could not see but he is certain that it’s her; an odd yet not uninvited swimming giddiness overrides his ability to reason logically and before he knows it, he finds himself pressing his lips back only for her to finally pull back and reach the surface of the well. Leon had always been the savior, the knight in the armor dirtied from war and he does not mind it– not at all but it is at that moment of nearly stepping into night’s Plutonian shore does he realize that maybe, just maybe, it doesn’t hurt to have someone save him for a change. As a man who has seen the face of war and smelt the stench of death, he has learned to raise strong walls to protect his heart from abandonment but through this moment, he comes to the realization that you’re slowly taking those walls apart but he doesn’t resent it– not one bit.
He wakes with a painful cough, sitting up and spitting out all the water from his lungs. With each jerk of his body, tears spring in his eyes from the sheer pressure he’s exerting just to get everything out. He feels a satiny touch fall on his back and he turns around; the singer from the club he frequents holds him in her lap and strokes his back from all those forceful coughing fits.
“You alright?” she asks in the most silvery voice he’s ever had the high grace of hearing.
“Yeah,” he responds with a hoarse voice. His throat feels weird and scratchy, a hand coming up to feel for his Adam's apple. He looks back at her and notices that they’re both drenched, her shimmery sleeveless dress clinging to her body and her long hair still dripping with water. His gaze falls on her cheekbones and drifts down to her arms and spots subtle opaline scales, similar to the ones on her legs. Her hands and feet look a lot more webbed, eyes appearing a little more bright than the average person’s.
“Thanks. For what you did. I mean it,” he softly says.
She smiles, still patting his back.
“It’s nothing. It’s sort of like me returning the favor for when you defended me back in the club.”
She coaxes him closer to her and he lets himself rest against her body, the weariness of the ordeal setting deep in his bones.
“How’d you find me?” he asks.
“The scale. My chest hurt while I was getting ready and I figured that you’d be in some form of trouble. I had this weird intuition on where you are and I ended up saving you.” she responds.
“Didn’t know you had a ladylove, sancho.” Luis chimes in, which causes the both of you to look avert each other’s gazes and attempt to conceal the deepening glow of pink in your cheeks. Chris finally finishes putting his garments back on, a smile on his lips. Urging Luis and the child up, they go to move somewhere else but not too distant from the both of you. Leon lifts his right hand up, gesturing it to you and shows you a gold radiance wrapped around his ring finger like a thread. You tilt your head, bringing his hand closer to you until you notice that the luminescent thread connects to your own ring finger, which also resembles thread.
“Am I going to be a mermaid too?” Leon speaks up.
“N-no… I don’t think so. This is my first time seeing something like this.” you quietly say. The threads disappear, fading into shimmery moonlight that lingered on you two for a swift moment.
“You’re a mermaid.” Leon mumbles faintly.
“Yeah, I am.” you say.
“That explains the voice.”
“And not the scale, which you thought belongs to some kind of rare fish?”
“You aren’t entirely fish but you’re quite the catch if I do say so myself.”
“Oh?”
You turn your head to a side not facing Leon, shutting your eyes and biting your lip in a moment of pure glee as waves of excitement crash over your body, a coral tint adding more color to your face.
“Let’s get back. It’s getting colder.” you finally say as you try to fight back a smile.
“Sounds like a plan.” he says as he flashes that swoon-worthy grin.
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NOTE - THANK GOD I'M FINALLY DONE WITH EXAMS OH MY LORD. Fun fact: I started this fic when I was supposed to be studying for one of my tests and I finished this when I'm currently supposed to be practicing for a music class requirement :3 Making the fic look a lot more cuter took more time than I initially thought but I don't mind tbh. I'll be inactive from January 25 to 26th because I'll be on a day-long school trip. Hopefully I'm passing all my tests because I will be CREMATED if I don't. Also ordered my Leon photocards and they haven't arrived yet (baby come home) That's all and I'm really thankful that you've read my fics and enjoyed them :) I love you <///3
The animated pink divider and chain dividers are from @cafekitsune , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).
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darlingshane · 5 months
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Salt of the Earth ~ Part 1
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Pairing: Michael Berzatto x OFC
Summary: She was Carmy's best friend growing up, and Michael never looked at her as anything other than that until years later when she comes back to Chicago to start over. In the process, she turns his sorry excuse of a life upside down.
Content/Warnings: Friends to lovers, Fluff, Angst, Family Drama, Dysfunctional relationships, Implied/referenced drug addiction, Alcohol mention, Divorce, Pets, Pet names, Dialogue heavy. Undisclosed age gap (in my mind Michael is late 30s and OC is late 20s, but it's really up to your interpretation).
Word Count: 6.8k // 4 chapters // AO3 link.
A/N: This is set in the year of the Fishes episode on season 2. It starts in summer and slowly builds up to that Christmas.
— This was an anon request that I got a few months ago, I hope you're still around. I tried to fit all the ideas you sent as best I could. There's a bit of info dump on the first chapter, but I hope it isn't too off-putting.
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Chapter 1: Best thing since sliced bread
Seconds stretch into minutes, minutes elongate into long hours on slow days like this at The Beef. Especially in summer when the air conditioner stops working for the second time in the middle of August. Any living soul that crosses that door must have a dying wish or be the devil themselves to adventure themselves to what has become Michael's personal hell.
It's been a testing year, and there's so much he can do to fix this place right now. While he waits for Fak to come check the damn AC unit, Michael tends the front while Ebra takes his lunch break.
Turning the paper's pages on the counter, he comes across an article about the extensive fires eating different parts of the country. A wretched thought crosses his mind as he reads – maybe it'd be better to burn this place to the ground and start over. He entertains the idea for a second until the door swings open, inviting more heat into the boiling pot.
He lifts his eyes from the words to find a familiar face approaching the counter. It's not Fak, but a much better vision of someone he used to know.
“Mayhem Maya.”
“Magic Mikey.”
That former thought of burning down this place disappears somewhere in the midst of that beautiful aura that saunters with her big brown eyes, long raven hair, nervous smile, and firm steps.
“It's been a while, Maybird.” Almost ten years since she set foot in this establishment. “What brings you to this hole in the wall?”
“Came to collect that meatball sub you promised at uncle Teddy's funeral, remember?”
“Oh, right.”
Ever since she moved to a different state, he only had seen her a handful of times when she came back for the holidays. Last time he saw her was at the beginning of spring, when her uncle, Ted Silva, passed away.
“I also had an interview at the new vet clinic on the next block.” She places her cross-body bag on an empty stool while she perches her ass on the one next to it.
“How's that going? Did you get tired of California already?”
“No, I love California. But I needed a change of scenery. It's been rough after… you know…” the divorce. She wasn't married for long, but she still can't bring herself to say the word.
“I’ve heard some of it.” He’s pretty much aware of how everything went down. Well, he’s got grapevine’s juicy version of the story, but he never heard her side directly.
Though Michael and Maya know each other as if they were related, they were never close confidants. She always thought he was the coolest guy in Chicago. And he always thought fondly of her, given their families association, and Maya’s close friendship with his brother.
Michael places an order for her sandwich and grabs a soda for her, while she explains she has two more job interviews later.
“Does your mother know you're back?” He folds the paper and props his elbows on the counter.
“She probably does.”
“Still not talking, huh?”
“It's not my fault she made me the black sheep of the family. She’s like vitriol on steroids.”
“Yeah? What happened at the wake? You left before I could say goodbye.”
Michael recalls the tension at the funeral, particularly at the wake when Angela Silva grabbed Maya by the elbow and took her youngest daughter outside the house as if she was still a child that needed to be scolded.
“Nothing. I barely said a word that day. Guess everything I do feels like a personal attack to her. I can admit that I'm not perfect, and that sometimes I've acted up just to get a reaction out of her, but that day she just went off again…” She pauses without finishing that thought to take a refreshing sip of her coke. “And that wasn't nearly as bad as the day I told her I was getting…”
“Divorced? Why can't you say the word? It's not Voldemort.”
“What the hell do you know about Voldemort?”
“How do I… Who took you and Carmy to buy those damn books? Have you forgotten?” Maya shakes her head. “You even tried many times invoking his name, so I was haunted by eaters or something like that. You two were real potterheads.”
“And you were just a pothead,” she laughs, stirring the ice cubes in her drink with a straw. “I totally blocked that out. We were just a couple of nerds.”
“I’d say!”
“Meatball sub!” Richie calls from the pass-through window and takes a second look when catching Maya in the joint. “Maya Papaya?!”
“Please, don’t call me that.” She scoffs while Richie promptly abandons the kitchen and goes around the counter to give her a welcoming hug.
“Did you know she was coming?” He asks Michael, as he props his ass on the bar.
“Had no idea. She just showed up.”
“Did you tell her about Carmy?”
“What about him?”
“He’s in Copenhagen.”
“Oh, I knew about that.”
“You two talk often?”
“Sometimes, I guess.” Barely more likely. They don't even text anymore. She's tried but there's been nothing but crickets at his end for months.
While Richie grills her about Carmy and what she’s been up to, Michael can’t help but look around the shop to notice, from every corner and wall, memories bouncing all at once in his direction. It takes him back in time to those days when she and Carmy were as thick as thieves.
Their shared history goes back to that same street their families have lived on for over thirty years… It’s still clear in his mind, like it was yesterday, when he was forced to babysit them when they wanted to go to the movies or trick-or-treating or the bookstore. That was a little annoying back then, now he fondly remembers all those times in summer, when they’d go to the convenience store to get ice pops on their bikes. Then they’d ride back and sit in the middle of the swanky rug in their living room and watch TV for hours. More than once they were yelled at by Mama Berzatto when she would come home to find melted colorful stains in the fabric. She would lose her shit. Carmy was used to it. Maya wasn’t, but the girl never flinched once cause Donna and her own mother were cut from the same unstable piece of cloth.
Maya and Carmy were really close up until they went separate ways for college. Their bond was something to admire. They had something so special that inevitably, Carmy fell in love with her. She was his best friend and confident. They kept each other's secrets, and Carmy thought she'd feel the same in return. It wasn't a crazy notion. They spent so much time together, everyone thought it'd lead to something more, but that never happened.
Mikey and Richie used to tease the youngest cub relentlessly. They tried multiple times to encourage him to ask her out, but he never found the guts to do it. Especially if it could potentially end their friendship. Carmy didn't want to lose that. Though he never confessed his feelings, Maya always knew. Even in her teens, call it a woman’s intuition, part of her already knew. Maya wished she'd felt the same toward him, but the heart wants what it wants, and she couldn't change that.
What was really fucked up was that she had the most ridiculous crush on the older Berzatto when she was a teen. While she knew he'd never look at her as anything other than Carmy's annoying little friend, that didn't stop her from daydreaming about it for years. It was a secret that no one ever knew and that was placed in a drawer at the back of her mind after she left Chicago.
After graduating, Maya and Carmy stayed in touch for a long time, until their calls and texts became less frequent. They followed different dreams that required a lot of attention and sadly their friendship got hurt in the process.
While she attended Vet School on the west coast, he became a chef on the east.
Maya thrived at school and work. She really went out on her own, and became the woman she always wanted to be. Unsheltered, confident, outspoken. She outgrew her shell and opened herself to new experiences and people. She loved it all. It wasn’t smooth sailing, but for the most part she was pretty happy with her choices.
And now she's back in Chicago, set on a new path and awaiting to see where it takes her.
She’s living in a house in Oak Park with her dog, Coco; Richie fishes out of her. Apparently, she got some money from uncle Teddy, and she’s invested it in a home for her and her beloved staffy.
“Does Carmy know you’re here?” Richie circles back.
“No, I haven't talked to him in months.”
“Why? Did you two have a fall-out or something?”
“There's no why. We're just busy.”
“Mike, help me out here. Weren’t these two fools supposed to get married?”
“Yeah, everyone thought you'd ended up together.”
“Man, I don't know what to tell you, we just didn't,” her head sinks between her shoulders.
“Just get over yourself and hit him up. The kid has been hung up on you since forever. It looks like things didn’t go so well with your marriage and all. You should take that as a sign, you’d never find anyone better than Carmy. The boy could really use some excitement in his life. And so could you.”
“C’mon, leave her alone. Go back to work, Cousin.”
Michael throws her a lifeline, noticing how miserable she looks every time Richie opens his unfiltered mouth.
“He’s not wrong, you know? You and Carmy… it looked like you two had something special.” Michael offers once Richie is back in the kitchen.
“It’s called friendship. You should look it up.” She points out.
“I have Richie.”
“Exactly. You have Richie. Why don't you two marry the other and leave me alone? If you think about it, you were as close to Richie as I was with Carmy. Even more. Should everyone assume you are in love with him? Cause that's what you're implying.”
“Touché. I'll drop it.”
“Look, as hard as it is to believe, there was nothing else between us. I was aware he felt something for me, but I didn’t feel the same.”
“You should give him a chance sometime. He might surprise you.”
It’s not the first time these two have been trying to play matchmaker between Maya and Carmy, and it’s bizarre to see they still do at any given opportunity.
“Okay, if I give Carmy a chance, you have to give Richie a chance. Those are the rules, Berzatto.”
“Oh, I've tried. He's not into me,” he remarks, amused, and leans closer to confess something in a lower voice. “Do you wanna know a secret?”
“Uh, sure.”
“He and Tiffany are having a baby. He just told me a few days ago.”
“What? You let him reproduce? I'll pray for Tiff.”
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Chapter 2: Cool as a cucumber
Everything falls slowly into place as Maya settles back in Chicago. She secures the job at the clinic near The Beef, which is a huge relief after her rushed decision of moving back to her hometown without securing a job first. It was part of the plan all along to practice what she loves but never thought this would be the year. As much as she loved California, once her divorce was finalized she felt like something was trapping her there. And the money she got from her uncle gave her some leeway to improvise, get away from all that, and start over.
Maya is spending her morning going through the stack of unpacked boxes, finding a good place for everything, making it feel more homey. It's not a big house, but spacious enough for the two of them. The big selling point was the backyard for Coco to zoom around and cool down in her wading pool, which she loves. It didn't take long for the five-year-old pup to get used to her new neighborhood. They've even made a couple of friends at the park nearby.
A moment before the doorbell rings, Coco whines from her spot by the window, where she often sits to watch passers in the street.
“Who is it?” Maya playfully asks her dog as she makes her way to the front door.
Through the peephole, she sees Michael's profile as he inspects the porch.
“Hi,” her eyes widen as she opens the door. “Didn't know you were coming.”
“Yeah, I would've called, but I didn't get your number the other day.” But he got her address from Richie's intense questioning when she visited the shop.
“I knocked on two different houses until I got the right one,” he explains as Coco curiously circles around his feet, sniffing his pants, hitting his crotch with her nose in the process.
“No, Coco. Sit. How many times have we talked about no nut-tapping?” Maya glances at her with amusement as the dog sits on her haunches.
“It’s fine,” he snorts. “All dogs do that.”
“Yeah, tell me about it. But she’s not any other dog. I thought I had taught her better. So what brings you here?”
“This.” He offers the paper bag hanging in his hand. “It's just a little house-warming gift.”
“You didn't have to.” As she takes the bag from his hand she ushers him inside before closing the door.
“It's nothing, really.”
He glances around as Maya takes out the box from the bag.
“Wow, a set of knives? That's not nothing.”
“Everyone needs one good set of knives. But you can exchange them for something else if you want.”
“No. I like these. But I gotta warn you that I'm not much of a cook, and I'll probably use the same one for everything.”
“That's fine I can show you sometime though. Is she friendly? ” He points at the dog that keeps staring at him. “Can I pet her?”
“Yeah, she loves everyone. Go ahead.”
Michael cautiously pets the brown coat of her head as her floppy ears lower at the passing of his hand.
“Never pictured you with a pit bull.”
“Me neither. I always thought I'd be a cat lady. But I met her at this adoption drive when she was one, and she stole my heart.”
“I can see why.” Michael crouches down, and pets Coco with both hands. “She's really sweet.”
He lets her lick his chin a couple of times before standing back on his feet. Then they go on a tour around the house.
“It's still a work in progress. I'm thinking of painting a few walls, but we like it so far.”
“Yeah, it has good bones.”
“So you don't have to work today?” Asks Maya.
“No, we've had some trouble with the gas line, and we've been shut down for a couple of days.”
“That sucks. Now where am I going to get my sandwiches and coffee on my way to work?”
“Heard Starbucks is pretty good.”
“Shut up. Don't even joke about that.” She playfully shoves his shoulder as they go back to the living room.
“Are you doing something later?”
She shakes her head. “Why?”
“I don't know, thought you were having a comeback party or something.”
“I don't really have any friends here. And I don't feel like inviting my family yet. As you can see, I still have a lot to unpack.”
“Physically or mentally speaking?”
“Both,” she scoffs.
“Let's do something then? Just you and me. We could grab some pizza, or go out for a drink for old times’ sake?”
“Old times’ sake?” It's amusing, surprising and confusing his sudden interest in her. Maybe he can see how pathetic she thinks she is, and he's taking pity on her. Although, that was never Michael style.
“Yeah, c'mon, Mayhem. You look like you could use some fun.” He picks up a book that's sitting on top from the box opened by the couch that's titled — Dating Again with Courage and Confidence: The Five-Step Plan to Revitalize Your Love Life after Heartbreak, Breakup, or Divorce. “And maybe a rebound or something. You don't need a fucking help book. You only need me to show where to get the best guys, or girls. Whatever you're into.”
“Give me that. I don't need a rebound, a help book, or you for all matter finding me a date.”
“No? Then why do you have that?”
“My friend Paige thought I should give it a try.”
“Maybe she was onto something there.”
“I'm perfectly fine. Just want to finish organizing everything, focus on work and this handful I have right here.” Her hand gestures at Coco. “What are you so interested in my love life anyway? First you try to play matchmaker with Carmy, and now you want me to do what, exactly? Hook up with the first guy I see?”
“No, I'm just asking you to go out and have some fun. I know Carmy was the only friend you had here. And if I was in your shoes, I'd feel pretty lonely.”
“I'm not lonely, Michael. Do I miss my friends in Sacramento? Sure,” she admits. “But I don't wanna force anything. I'm just taking it slow. When the time comes I'll jump right in but for now, this is all I need. Really. Stop pitying me.”
“I'm not pitying you, sweetheart.”
“No? Then what is it? Where is this coming from?”
“I don't know… I've always thought you were the salt of the earth. And though we never really hung out together, I thought you could use… But I can see now that you're different, and that you know what you need right now, so I'll just shut up and back off. Let you do your thing.”
“Thank you. I do know what I'm doing, by the way. You don't have to worry about me. I'll be fine. But I appreciate you coming here anyway.”
“Yeah, of course. And I can help you unpack if you need.”
“Hm, if you don't have anything better to do, be my guest. We could grab a pizza later, if the offer still stands. Or just order some food.”
“Sure.”
Michael helps Maya unpack all the boxes and put everything in place in half the time it'd have taken her alone. They order some food for lunch and spend half the day talking and laughing until late in the afternoon when they decide to go out for some drinks to keep the good vibes going.
At the end of the night, she offers to drive Michael back to his apartment as a thank you for inviting her.
“Did you have fun?” Michael asks from the passenger seat as she pulls up in front of his building.
“Yeah, I did. I'm glad I changed my mind.”
“Me too. I didn't know you were this fun. You're nothing like I remember.”
“Yeah, I was kind of weird growing up. You guys probably thought there was something wrong with me. ”
“Nah, don't be so hard on yourself. We were all weird in our own way.”
“Uh-uh. No Michael Berzatto. You were the coolest guy back in the day, and you still are.”
“I don’t know about that,” he scoffs. “For the record… I never thought there was anything wrong with you.”
“You were probably the only one… Anyway, thank you for today. I know I said I didn't need this, but I guess I did.”
“You're welcome, Maybird. I'm glad you’re back.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“Thanks for bringing me home,” he softly squeezes her arm before reaching for the handle to open the door.
“No problem.”
“You know you can call me if you ever miss your friends, y’know?” he throws casually.
“I uh…sure. I will.”
“Okay.”
“Okay,” she echoes back as he pulls the handle and the door opens.
“Have a good night, Michael,” she says as he gets one foot on the pavement.
“You, too, sweetheart.”
He closes the door and vaguely waves as she sets the car in motion and watches her drive away.
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Chapter 3: Don't cry over spilled milk
In the few weeks he's been spending time with Maya, Michael has found himself enjoying her company more than he'd like to admit. Being with her grounds him. She makes him forget for a little while all that's wrong in his life. She's like a beacon in that immerse darkness that his sorry existence has become. Despite having her own set of problems, he's watched her rise above all that with poise. He wonders what it's her secret to her steadfast determination, even when her own family has disavowed her.
After closing shop, he dives into his stash to tame that brewing headache before driving to Oak Park to pay her a visit. She told him earlier via text that she was at Home Depot buying some paint to update the color of her bedroom and asked him to come over to hang out after work.
For some reason, he couldn't say no. Not even the storm in his head is strong enough to deny her request. He has a pull on him, tugging him hard like a dog tied to a leash in her hand, he can’t help but follow her lead.
When he arrives at her house, she's halfway done. Two of the walls shine bright new in a lavender tone as she starts working on the next one.
After having beer and playing a tug of war game with his new friend, Coco, Michael offers his help to finish painting the walls. He uses a brush to paint the corners, while she gracefully uses a roller like a pro with her denim overalls over a tank top, and her raven hair pulled up in a ponytail sprinkled with lavender paint beads. When she lifts one of her arms, he catches a glimpse of a tattoo on the side of her rib cage, leveled to the roundness of her chest that looks like the outline of a dog paw.
“What are you looking at?” She asks after catching him staring.
“You have paint on your chin.”
“Oh.” She wipes it with the back of her hand, but she just spreads the stain along her jaw. “I made it worse, didn't I?”
“Yeah.”
She shrugs it off and continues with the task ahead until the whole wall is covered.
“Is everything okay, Bear?” Maya puts down the paint roller. “You're quieter than usual.”
“Yeah, everything's alright.” It sounds so honest, he almost believes it. “It's just been a long day.”
“I'm sorry that I put you to work.”
“Don't be. This is relaxing.”
“Yeah?” She takes a step back and surveys how much brighter her bedroom looks already after covering most of the former downcast grey. “Is the color right? Do you think it's too girlish?”
Giving the room a once over he says, “it's a good shade. I dig it. It doesn't matter what I think or if it's too girlish, as long as you like it. Do you like it?”
“Yeah. I do.”
She dips the roller on the tray to cover another section of the wall.
“You never told me what happened at the funeral with your mom,” Michael leans on the stepladder, taking a short break.
“Do you really wanna know?” She glances over her shoulder.
“Yeah. Everyone does. I’ve heard some crazy stories about it. Thought I should get it straight from the source.”
“I never pegged you for a gossip girl.”
“I’m not. I’m just making conversation.”
She mockingly narrows her eyes, drawing a lopsided smirk, “liar.”
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t wanna. But yeah, can’t help being a little curious about it.”
“I don’t mind telling you, but it won’t be as entertaining as those crazy stories people have made up.”
“I’m not here for entertainment. I just wanna hear your side of the story, Maybird.”
Maya lets out a heavy sigh and while keeping her focus on the wall she shares with him what really happened. She’s right to say that is not the best story she’s ever told, though when it comes to her mother, all her stories tend to have a surreal element even she can’t fathom sometimes.
That day at the funeral, she was taken outside during the wake by Angela Silva to get scolded about her imminent divorce. It wasn’t finalized by then, and her mom invoked one last Hail Mary to convince her to stay with her husband, who was also currently dating someone else. It was a messy situation that Maya couldn't wait to get out of, and the fact that her mother never offered an ounce of support wasn’t surprising, but still devastating. Somehow, Angela found that the reason for her separation from her husband was that Maya didn’t want to have kids, and that really vexed Angela. All she wanted for her three kids was to follow the same traditional path Angela was forced into, no matter how miserable she was. Her two older sisters followed her mother’s narrowed traditional values. But Maya, ever-the-nonconformist, swore she would never follow anyone’s drum beat but her own. Her husband thought she’d change her mind eventually. He was wrong. She knew that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon, which led her here, to this moment.
“Is your mom ever happy?” Michael has always wondered.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen her happy, except when she’s drunk. That’s why she has to make everyone else miserable.”
“Yeah, but she’s always had a fixation on making you miserable.”
“Like I said, every family needs a black sheep, and I’m it.”
“Is that why you became a vet?”
“Yeah, probably.”
“So, it's true, you don’t wanna have kids? I’m not judging. I’m just curious.”
“I honestly don't know. I just knew that when he told me he wanted to have a baby right away, it didn’t feel right. I said that maybe in six or seven years I’d be okay with it. Told him I wanted to travel and just be us for a while, and he said that was too long to wait. I don’t know… he stopped talking to me, and it was clear that he wasn’t changing his mind, and I wasn’t changing my mind, so. At some point I got tired of trying… He got a girlfriend as soon as I filed for divorce and I got a text from Paige the other day that said he got her already pregnant, like… that was never me. I guess it served me right… I married him on a whim, an impulse without really talking about what we wanted…”
“Hey, don’t feel sorry for yourself. You dodged a bullet there.”
“You really think that?.”
“Yeah, I do. You stood up for yourself and knew when to step back when it didn’t feel right. Not everyone has the balls to do that. Think how miserable you’d be by now if you had tried to please him or your mom. You seem happy now. That's what matters.” He means that with all his heart, and wishes he had the same drive to follow those same steps. As much as he loved the restaurant, he chose to run it to please people within his family. And that love turned into a nightmare he couldn't escape.
“You know… I liked you better when you were quiet,” she quips.
Michael huffs a soft laugh, picking up his brush to resume painting.
When the room is finished, she plugs a couple of fans and closes the door to keep Coco away.
Maya washes her hands and face in the bathroom sink. When she comes out, she catches the motion of Michael's arm as he shoves what looks like a pill into his mouth before taking a gulp of water from one of her glasses.
“What was that? Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. It's just a headache,” looking down, he runs a palm over his short growing beard.
“Is it the fumes?”
“No, I had it before coming here.”
“Michael,” she sighs softly at his name. “You should've told me. I wouldn't have let you help if I knew.”
“Would you stop that? I wanted to help.”
“Okay, c'mere. Let's sit down.”
“No, I think I should get going.”
“Nonsense. I'm not going to let you drive until you feel better.”
He yields with a long exhale, and follows Maya into the living room, where her bed is settled askew in the middle of the space.
She takes a seat on the edge of the mattress and waits for him to sit next to her.
“Give me your hand,” she shows her palm up, as his eyes narrow. “C'mon, don't be a baby, give me your hand, Berzatto.”
“When did you become so bossy?” He slowly lifts his hand and as he lays it on top of her palm, his fingers tremble upon contact with her skin. Maya then uses her opposite hand to clip the webbing between his thumb and pointer fingers with her own and begins massaging that spot.
“My friend Sierra is really into acupressure. She says this is a pressure point that helps with headaches.” She explains while slowly increasing the force. “Does it hurt?”
“Not one bit. Is that like acupuncture?” His voice comes as a whisper as he focuses on her diligent fingers.
“Kinda. I think. I’m not really sure.”
“You don't have to fix me, you know?”
“I'm not trying to fix you, Bear. I just wanna make you feel better.”
“Admit it. You just love a good wounded animal.”
She smiles softly, placing his hand down on his knee and picking up the other. “Does it feel any different?”
He’s not really sure, it wasn’t truly a headache that led them to take that pill but the annoying rambling of his thoughts. She shouldn’t have seen that. And he shouldn’t have lied. But having her hands on his like this is straight up lovely. Inside of him, it truly feels like something is broken, wounded, and missing, and this is giving him a sliver of relief as he waits for the pill to kick in. If he was a better man, he’d tell her the truth. But he’s too far gone for saving. All he can do is keep that facade up.
“Does it?” She insists after not getting an answer.
“A little.”
“Do you wanna lay down?”
Swallowing, he responds with a nod, and they both lean back on the mattress at the same time. Looking at the ceiling, she keeps kneading that pressure point, unsure if she’s even doing it right.
They stay in comfortable silence for a good five minutes and when she finally places his hand down, Maya glances to the side and sees that his eyes have closed, and his chest gently rising and falling. She calls his name softly, but she can see that behind the sharp edges of his face and the ever-growing shade of his beard, he’s truly exhausted, so she doesn’t insist. She extends her hand to turn off the lamp, and curls on the other side of the bed without disturbing his sleep.
“Good night,” she says softly and closes her eyes.
From a dusty corner of her mind comes crawling that little forgotten part that used to harbor a lot of feelings for Michael. Though a few weeks ago he seemed practically the same Michael she knew, over the past month she’s keenly noticed little changes here and there. His eyes sometimes cast a dark shade tainted in nothing but sadness, it’s barely noticeable for other people. It comes and goes, but it tells her he’s not truly as happy as he pretends to be.
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Michael wakes up disoriented at the crack of dawn.
It takes him a few seconds to remember he’s still in Mayas’ bed in the middle of her living room and that the weight that has his arm pinned is her body pressed against his. She’s warmly snuggled on his side, with her arms tucked between his chest and hers, and a peaceful expression on her beautiful face. She’s so awfully close, he can smell the scent of her hair, and feel the heat of her breath every time she exhales.
It's such an odd moment for him to have her that close. He's unsure of whether it would be better to slip out of bed unnoticed before she wakes up, or just stay there and watch her sleep for a bit longer. Either option would make him look like a creep, he thinks. So he opts to gently wake her up. His free hand reaches to his forehead to move a stand of hair away. Her brow scrunches as his light-feather touch grazes her skin. His lips curve up as he traces the shell of her ear to see her stir awake. She blinks slowly a couple of times until her focus shifts onto him.
“Hey, Maybird.”
“Hey.” Her lips move, it's barely audible.
“Sorry, I fell asleep.” His fingers absentmindedly massage her earlobe.
She's so stunned by waking up to that level of intimacy, she simply nods, as her mouth softly draws a smile.
“It's fine. Does your head feel better?”
“Much better. That pressure thing really worked.”
“I'm glad.”
“Listen, I gotta go open. Maybe we could do something later?”
“Okay,” she swallows nervously, hoping that waking up with him like this isn't just a dream. “Can you do me a favor first?”
“Sure.”
“Can you stay five more minutes?”
“I uh… I think I can,” against his better judgment, he decides he can stay for a few minutes more holding her.
The way her lips pull up timidly at the corners, revealing the dimples framing her mouth, completely disarms him. He’s always felt a certain affinity towards her, but being this close to her awakes a longing within that feels dangerous. He can’t bring someone new into his life. Not while everything around him is falling apart. It’s already hard enough having to pretend around other people.
He couldn’t do that to her. He won’t.
Michael will have to fight harder because when her arm tucks around his waist he can’t help but press his lips against her forehead.
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Chapter 4: Hard nut to crack
Four months later…
After that initial moment of weakness when he fell asleep on her bed, he fought hard to elude that odd longing that has only grown into a big mass of love toward Maya. To anyone else in the world, a feeling as big as that would be a blessing, especially when it's reciprocated. To Michael, it's a weakness he can't afford right now.
Spending all that time with Maya has been like discovering a whole new planet Michael never thought existed. She's all vast, uncharted territory that fazes him more than it should. Despite his best efforts, he’s fallen into her alluring orbit and can’t find the way out into his own universe.
Far gone is that moody teenager that would mumble a few words here and there. And now there's this tragically stunning woman that looks you directly in the eye, says anything that crosses her mind, and laughs without a care in the world.
Though falling in love with her wouldn’t be completely wrong, it's not quite right either. It fills him with guilt to think about her in that manner. Moreover, it feels like a betrayal to Carmy, who’s far away in a different continent, prospering in his craft.
Michael tries to fool himself into believing that this is just temporary infatuation. He’s even attempted several times to convince her to get in touch with Carmy but hasn’t succeeded. It’d be easier for him if she were to put her focus on someone else instead of him. He has nothing to offer to her and has deemed himself unworthy of her, or anyone for that matter. If she only knew what’s really going on with him, she wouldn’t want Michael nearly as she believes she does.
Layer by layer, she’s tearing all his walls and defenses down. And after all the back and forth, he's absolutely sure she wants more than he can offer her. She’s been giving him the right signals. She doesn't shy away from it. Maya is direct and impulsive, and everything about her is fascinating and intimidating.
It’s time to either cut her loose, or accept that he’s madly in love with her and do something about it.
Amidst coming to terms with a final decision, he's lured into a surprise party she's organized for his birthday.
Michael is left speechless by her determination. And a little annoyed too for reasons he can't explain. To be honest, he’s never been a fan of surprise parties, but the main problem is that this would make things much harder for him to let her down easily. She’s carved herself into his life and the longer he drags this out, the worse this is going to hurt.
He’s aware that it’s selfish and obtuse of him for being that ungrateful that someone who cares that profoundly about him, that they would go all out to prove that. He feels like an asshole, but the train has already left the station.
Using the same tiring self-defense mechanism, he draws his best smile and brings out the Michael everyone seems to love. Not without help. There's always that crutch tucked in his wallet in the form of a pill. Being high numbs him enough to deal with the situation.
The cherry on top comes at the end of the night, when he walks her up to her car and asks if he's had a good time. He lies through his teeth and for the first time, he can tell Maya is not buying it. Perhaps she never did, but he's well-versed on her tells by now, and he can clearly see she's fed up with all the bullshit that comes out of his mouth.
“Look, it's not that I didn't like the party. It's just that I hate surprises, and I was exhausted today. But it was a nice thought, sweetheart. I just… I wasn't in the right mood.” It's seemingly convincing the second time around, but her face shows nothing but regret. “I love the jacket you bought me, though.”
Michael has never been interested in fashion, but he's always loved vintage jackets, and the one she picked it's a perfect addition to his collection. It's a bomber jacket, aviator style, in brown leather with a couple of patches and fur collar.
As they reach Maya's car, they come to a stop. She turns to him, “I know I can be a little too much sometimes. But I promise no more surprises from now on.”
“You and I both know, you won’t be able to keep that promise even if your life depended on it. That's part of what makes you– you, sweetheart. Don’t let my bad mood ruin that.”
“I’ll try.”
After a beat, without hesitation she leans in to leave a goodnight kiss on his bearded cheek and on a whim, she decides to press a second one on his lips.
It takes him completely aback. He wants to dive so badly into her mouth, but he freezes on the spot. And when Maya attempts to deepen the kiss, he finally reacts by placing a placating hand on her shoulder as he pulls his head back.
“I'm… I'm sorry we can't do this, Maya.”
“Wait, I thought… Did I misread something?”
“No, you didn’t misread anything. I just can’t do this.”
“Why?”
“I can't.”
“You can't or don’t want to?”
“Guess I don’t want to.”
“Can you at least tell me why? Did I do something wrong?”
“You did nothing wrong, sweetheart.” He wants to spill out the old – it's not you, it's me – excuse, but he refrains. Every thought and action go against every good instinct he's ever had. He hates himself for making her feel insecure. And yet, he can't backtrack now.
“Stop calling me sweetheart. You see how misleading that is?”
“Sorry. I think I gave you the wrong impression.”
Her eyes narrow, and he can see the gears turning for a long moment before opening her mouth.
“I don't think you gave me the wrong impression, Michael. I think you're too chickenshit to admit that there's something between us and, for whatever reason, you're just taking the coward's way out. You've been weird the whole night, especially with me. I just threw a party just for you, the least you can do is tell me why.”
“I didn't ask you to do that. And I don't owe telling you shit! I was trying to let you go easy, but nothing is ever easy with you. So I'll just say it. This, you and me, is never going to happen.”
It sounds ridiculous as it comes out of his mouth, but he stands firm on that statement as her heart breaks in front of him.
In the end, it'd be better for her, he believes.
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