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xxanaduwrites · 7 months ago

Text

much ado about nothing, major

ii. bluell & blue skies

the main hub

pairing: john “bucky” egan x (ofc) maude “blue” bluell

warnings: this story will contain mature themes, descriptions of injury, blood, sexual content, swearing, as well as, physical and mental illness. proceed with caution.

— ii. some inappro-pro jokes courtesy of curt & mentions of beating a dude up, that’s all i got folks !

word count: 5.5k

there must be something or nothing at all.

The sound of clinking glasses, chattering men, giggling women, and tapping feet amongst the beat of swinging jazz filled the Officer’s Club and the ears of one Maude Bluell at roughly around 2100 hours.

The newly polished nurse of Thorpe Abbot’s infirmary leaned rather uncomfortably against a nearby wall with her fellow colleagues observing the function. Now changed out of her more suitable work attire, she stiffened like a board in the confines of her neatly pressed Red Cross issued uniform. Already becoming rather used to her usual loose white ward dress and cap, the fitted material of the more proper wear seemed foreign to her. Too foreign to be a uniform worn just a week prior, in route for base transfer.

The more she spent in the infirmary, the more time was proving itself to be heavier conceptually speaking and lighter actuality speaking. The truth of the matter was that Nurse Bluell witnessed enough loss in one week that could very well add up to more than whole lifetime.

So maybe — just maybe the Dirty Shirley Q was attempting to shove into Maude’s hand — wasn’t such a bad idea after all. “‘S not all that bad, Blue. Just a cherry little thing with a pinch of alc. ‘S like sucking up straight candy.” Susie slurred and the bright red liquid swayed like a wave in a storm trapped in glass.

“Not everyone wants to rot out their teeth and stain their tongues red like you, Q.” Lottie pointed out and grimaced at the concoction with a sweet cherry on top. To prove her point further, the blonde took a sip of her less colorful drink — a simple gin and tonic.

If the concept of “two sides of the same coin” could be defined by people, Maude was certain Lottie and Q were the perfect definition.

It became quite apparent early on that Lottie upheld a more serious and resolved persona, taste aligning simplistic and rather blander than her bubbly and eccentric colleague Q who flourished in a rather colorful nature.

In an odd way, even though the two could get into the occasional spat over their differences, they overall leveled each other out in a way where Blue wasn’t sure where she exactly fit in. How she found fit into such an established dynamic.

“And not everyone wants to deny every name on their dance card, but here you are,” She countered, clearly commenting on something Maude was unfamiliar with. Something that spiked a nerve in Lottie. The red headed nurse noticed the newbie's confusion drawing prominently in her features. “Lots has a look but no touch policy,” She explained, the drink flailing about even more dangerously as she exasperated, enough for Maude to accept this drink from her without a word.

Crossing her arms over her chest, the all work, no play blonde ignored her former colleague and turned to her new one. “It’s not entirely true. You see, I look at it this way. We touch men all day long –” Sue promptly cut Lottie off with a well timed snort, and Lottie sighed but continued on, “rotating between check-ups, wrapping wound after wound, and seeing them in their most vulnerable states…I just – I don’t know, something about it doesn’t sit right with me,” she shrugged nonchalantly, not knowing that her words laid heavily on Maude’s own chest.

“But, there’s no denying that the girl lovesssss to look!” Sue chirped in, nudging her friend’s shoulder who’s mischievous grin was hidden behind the rim of her gin and tonic. “Speaking of, has anyone caught your eye yet, Blue? See anything you like?” She mused, fishing for the hot gossip as she liked to do.

Had anyone caught her eye? Well a very certain major who had waltzed his way into the infirmary just this morning had, but could she admit such a thing when she was trying to convince herself otherwise?

“Oh I – I dunno,” Maude finally spoke up and blushed madly, cheeks promptly dusting pink.

She suddenly felt grateful for the Dirty Shirley and took a sip, the tart yet sweet mixture coating her tongue in a delightful way. The condensation of the glass felt cool against her now heated skin, and she prayed it would cool down her unease in the current conversation. If not, at least she could simply blame it on the drink. Not that she knew very well what it was like for herself. She wasn’t much of a drinker to begin with, but she had been around enough functions with family and friends alike to know how flushed face one could get on a glass or two – worse with a few more added into the mix.

“Give the girl some time. She just got here after all and we haven’t given her a run down yet on who’s who.” She noted. “Wait, have we?” She asked, turning to Blue for confirmation to which she shook her head in a delcarative no. “Oh then, this’ll be a thrill. Perfect timing then, ain’t it Sue.”

“Absolutely! You’re in good hands Maude Bluell. Can’t go wrong with Lots full boring government names in conjunction with my fun nicknames for the full effect.” Sue added.

“It’s not boring, it’s official and makes our job a whole lot easier.” Lottie reasoned. “At least I can identify each pilot by their title and rank efficiently with no hiccups on their health charts.”

“Hey! It was just one time, and in my defense it’s not my fault that two Majors decided to have the same goddamn nickname, and it’s no help when Croz only refers to them as the “two Buckys” in conversation.”

“Two Buckys’?” Maude questioned, rather perplexed.

“Yes, see the blonde over there. Strong cheekbones. Full lips. Bright blue eyes,” Lottie — as loud as Maude could hear over the blaring music and as subtly as she could, a good two gin and tonics in — pointed to the definition of such a man seated right in front of the Officer’s band.

Maude followed her eye and nodded in confirmation.

“That’s Major Gale Cleven,” She said in her left ear.

And on her right side Sue added in, “Buck, or in other words — if you couldn’t tell — the man Lots was fawning for before she found out he’s got a girl back home.”

Lottie shot her a look.

“What? Made it real obvious with those detailed descriptors. I’m simply stating facts.” Sue regarded Lottie while fetchinf the cherry out of her own Dirty Shirley “Anyways, Name’s Marge. Short for Marjorie. High School sweethearts from Wyoming or something like that.

Major Gale “Buck” Cleven — Maude repeated over in her head, trying to commit it to memory.

“Couldn’t help it. He’s a real gentleman. Quite reserved but extremely smart. Doesn’t drink. Doesn’t smoke. Doesn’t gamble. Doesn’t dance with a single girl. It intrigued me.” Lottie concluded and then continued on, “next to him, to the right is Major John Egan.” Lottie trained Maude’s gaze just where she wanted her and just where Maude herself had not expected to be.

Major John Egan. Major Egan. The man Lieutenant Payne had mentioned in his demotion and replacement from today’s mission. The man who walked right into the infirmary at 0900 hours and churned something deep inside her, yet to be deciphered.

Out of his flying gear and signature sheepskin jacket, she took in the sight of Major Egan in his more formally pressed uniform, and her breath hitched. There was no denying how handsome he looked all cleaned up, but she wouldn’t make that known to them. Not now and especially not here.

“That’s Bucky.” Q was back in her right ear, and Maude wondered if this is what it felt to have an angel and a devil on your shoulders, whispering different things. “Confusing, aye?”

“Bucky,” she repeated aloud, a small laugh escaping the nurse as she twirled the straw around in her drink. “So it’s Buck and Bucky then, not the Buckys.”

“Technically, yes.” Lottie nodded.

“Quite redundant.”

“Precisely, but for good reason I suppose. Sue can explain that one further.”

“Oh yes!” She lit up. “So apparently, Major Egan has always been known as Bucky back home and when he first saw Major Cleven, well he couldn’t get over how much he looked like some fella named Buck from Manitowoc, Wisconsin — also his home — and they’ve been stuck like glue ever since. All in good word from Curt of course who filled me in on all this business.”

“Right…and oh! Over here is Captain Bernard Demarco.”

“Benny.” Sue cut in again.

“He’s the one that has that sweet pup Meatball running around, and….” Lottie kept the flow going, canning the conversation on the redundant nature of the Buckys.

Maude tried her best to stay attentive, taking in the passing faces and attaching them to their respected names, yet she couldn’t help but draw her gaze back to Major Egan who’s long fingers were tapping against the arms of the chair he occupied to the beat of smooth jazz as he spoke to his friend next to him. She attuned her bouncing stare to the drink starting to take effect in her system, but also to her remembrance of why she truly pulled up to the function — to find Lieutenant Crosby and properly congratulate him on his promotion.

Yet, through the whisking crowd of people, the target of her mission became indetectable.

At some point Katherine “Tatty” Spaatz, daughter of Lieutenant Carl Spaatz, and Helen — both Red Cross volunteers for the Clubmobile circling the Eighth Air Force’ First Air Division — joined in on the conversation, greeting the nurses, and meeting the new addition to their circuit.

Tatty recounted stories to Lottie of countless pilots trying to get in her good graces just to secure a promotion from her father. It never worked, while Helen continued to help Sue familiarize Maude with the crew on base. Helen was in the middle of trying to point out another pilot to the nurse when the band started playing a new song — a popular song that not only Sue knew very well, but Maude too. Blue Skies by Irving Berlin. Maude hummed it to herself the past week any chance she got. Any time she was feeling rather blue so to speak — ironically enough. And Sue — well Sue wasn’t one not to be observant.

“Blue!” She interrupted Helen’s tagging game by latching onto Maude’s arm. “It’s your song.” She proposed excitedly.

Maude, taken aback for just a moment, collected herself enough to correct the notion and Helen’s sudden raised brow. “Oh — I — ‘S not my song. I just like it.” She shrugged.

“But your Bluell. Blue. Blue Skies!” Q slurred shirly as ever. “Come on Blue. Sing for us.”

“Oh no I — I don’t sing,” The shy nurse mumbled out, not lying so to speak but not telling the truth either. Sure, Bluell sang, but only when she was alone. When no one else was present. When she had a good sense of privacy. Humming was one thing, but singing no — singing was a whole other ball game.

“‘S not true. I’ve heard you.” She assured, making escaping this proposition even more impossible.

Maude gasped. “When?”

“Just the other day. When you were out hanging the sheets up on the line,” the red head recalled, not giving up by any means.

As a newbie of sorts, Maude was appointed to hang up the freshly washed sheets outside to dry before the beds were made back up — neat and clean in preparation for the inevitable return of injured pilots. Q usually came out with a basket to collect the dry ones, and on one particular day, she had caught the nurse there — singing away in what she assumed to be a rather private area. Instead of making herself known, Q took a moment to listen to the newbie's voice, connecting to what she could only imagine to be what fluffy clouds would sound like if you could hear them in one’s ears, if clouds could in fact sit in such a way — soft and airy on a summer’s sunny day.

“My, well I —I” Embarrassment dusted Maude’s features as she found herself at loss for words in being discovered.

“Yes, she has quite the voice!” Lottie suddenly overheard the conversation, added in, piquing the interest of the Clubmobile girls.

Maude silently wondered if her colleagues and newfound friends were really her friends at all.

“Oh! Now I must know. Would you sing for us?” Tatty asked, absolutely intrigued by this information and ever-so slightly tipsy herself.

“I – I dunno,” Maude replied shyly, her fingers reaching up to the edge of her collar, tugging the material away from her now heated skin.

“It would boost morale,” Helen reasoned, actually considering the state of their boys and how music seemed to ease their souls.

Especially one Major John Egan who, little to Maude’s current attention, was absolutely fizzing with delight just across the way.

“Do you know what this is missing?” The Major probed suddenly to the blonde Lottie described in heavy detail only moments prior.

Buck, knowing his friend and exactly what he would be up to whenever music was involved did not hesitate in replying. “Nothing.”

“Vocals.” John announced, totally disregarding his friend’s input on the matter.

With a sigh, Gale reiterated, “no, it’s not.”

“I’m gonna sing.” John proposed, as if it was not already obvious enough to Gale.

Already ten steps ahead of his antsy friend, Gale’s reflexes proved to be on par and he eased John back down in his seat just as fast. In complete conjunction as one Nurse Maude Bluell was being eased herself. Right in front of the band and the lone microphone propped on a stand next to the conductor. A conductor who found himself rather confused with the sudden presence as well as the rest of the club when she nervously tapped it with a cherry red nail, freshly done up by Q. A necessity as the red head liked to say in her chain of convincing for the night. A chain that Maude had found herself unmistakably tied to for the rest of the evening with a reasoning of Biddick’s MIA on center stage.

“Looks like a lady has beat you to it.” Gale hummed in complete amusement. An amusement not reciprocated by his friend, slouched in defeat with his arms crossed over his chest in utter disappointment.

The nurse cleared her throat suddenly, trying to stifle her nerves and block out the faces that were drawn to her every move. So much so that she even had one Major John Egan attuned, eyes glued to her like a hawk catching their prey.

A twinge of familiarity washed over him as he took in the young woman with full red lips and pinned up hair, a complete contradiction to the nurse he saw in scrubs just a few hours prior attending to Lieutenant Joseph Payne. Yet, what captivated him, what really set in that sense of recognition were her eyes. Those hazy green eyes that had almost rendered him speechless in completing his promotional tasks for Croz.

“B—Blue Ski —“ the raven haired woman’s vocal chords betrayed her rather quickly leading the men — with a lack of better judgment enraptured with booze filled minds — to laugh at her mishap.

“Learn your place sweetheart!” Someone hollered far away. Too far away for Bucky to attach a face to voice so to speak, but close enough that he could make out every single syllable, every single word clustered in a sentence that made his blood boil tenfold.

He was no singer himself — hell he couldn’t carry a note for the life of him, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that singing — singing your heart out was freeing. It was fun. It was a way to forget the truth of it all. The truth of this reality, adhered to a war wrapped in violence and a future of uncertainty. A future only men lucky enough could promise.

Instead of jumping out of his seat, finding the man, and beating him to a pulp like he really wanted to for speaking to a lady in such a disrespectful manner — he decided on a different approach. An approach that would ease the clear embarrassment of the pretty raven haired nurse in front of him.

“Jack,” he whispered over to the pilot on his left, cringing at the scene. “should I sing?” He asked him, hoping to gain a better sense of backup clearly not tuned to his level headed friend.

To Bucky’s misfortune, Jack was with Buck on this one. “No.”

He tried again, this time with another colleague adjacent to buck. “Should I sing?” He motioned again.

And again. “No. You’ll just make it worse.”

John sighed. “Alright, you’re right. You're right.” He feigned a nod in agreement, putting on a facade that did not last long enough to see the light. Looking back at the nervous nurse caged in laughter of no good nature, John knew there was no shot in hell he’d leave her there imprisoned. Whatever bit of jealousy had set him off as he saw her hit the stage of sorts was long gone.

So, he hyped himself up, readying himself to take flight just as he did every time in a B-17, and tapped his fingers against the wooden edges of his chair. Letting out a breath, he finally stood up and danced his way over to the mic, leading Gale to send him a classic knowing glance of his that was reserved to him alone anytime he whipped up an antic.

“It’s my song, Buck!” He reasoned to his best friend just before turning around and coming face to face with the green eyed goddess.

Completely surprised, Maude nearly gasped at the sudden intrusion but collected herself enough to follow his gaze as he fitted himself behind her.

“May I?” The Major whispered against her ear, his arm brushing against her hip as he reached for the microphone in front of her.

His touch proved to be magnetic — electric even, and it shot something within her enough to keep upright and reply ever-so carefully. “My yes. Of — Of course, Major.” She went to step out of the way, but a warm and gentle hand wrapped around her waist and pulled her up against John’s side.

She could have melted then in his embrace, fitted so perfectly next to him as he grasped the mic and stared down at her as he began to sing….

Never saw the sun shining so bright

Never saw things going so right

Noticing the days hurrying by

And then, just as she was starting to feel comfortable being serenaded, but considering the prospects of a duet, Major Egan’s hand flexed at her side, signaling the tilt of the mic close enough in her direction that they could sing together.

Yet, to her surprise he let her have her moment alone.

When you’re in love. My how they fly.

And the lines came out clear — clearer than she could ever imagine, but that was all she would contribute. She’d let the Major take the reins on the rest of the song with a simple nod of encouragement.

Blue days

All of them gone

Nothing but blue skies

From now on

With a final flourish, he dipped the young nurse. Her heart dropped to her stomach at the sudden movement, sending shock waves throughout her whole body in a reminiscent way. One that reminded her of her childhood. It brought back memories of the very first time she ever rode the Coney Island Cyclone with her father. The creeks of the wooden structure probed nervous jitters as the roller coaster went up, up, up — only to bring sweet relief as the cars swooshed down, down, down. And down she was now with Major Egan’s charming features in her direct line of sight. Pretty pearly whites, deep blue eyes, and large warm hands leaving her breathless yet grounded in his embrace.

If it wasn’t for the cheers that rounded out amongst the ladies and the hardy laughs that echoed from the men, the Major and nurse could have very well been locked in their own world — where it was just the two of them, alone. But they weren’t alone. They were surrounded by a bubbly crowd of fellow airmen and red cross members alike who were now making their way to the floor to dance out their newfound excitement.

Yet, the caging of it all felt rather intimate to Maude — who was now being pulled right back up by Major Egan. With a bit of a stumble and a trip of a heel, he caught her before she could trip — a strong arm wrapping around her lower back, urging her upright like a straight torpedo.

Her cheeks reddened ripper than the deep shade of lipstick coating her lips as her hand subconsciously found itself situated on Egan’s chest. Palm fizzing against the eloquent beat of his heart.

“Hi,” he mused, eyes sparking in delight as he took in the small frame of the nurse in front of him — her lack of height noticeable at this newfound proximity.

His prominent figure towered above her, forcing her to crane her neck back and head upward to look him in the eye. It wasn’t surprising. Truly it wasn’t. His stature became apparent the moment she first saw him. But now, standing right in front of him, practically caged over his towering presence was intimidating. “H-Hi.” She managed out and then tumbled in a frantic frenzy. “Bucky — I mean J— Major.” She sighed in an effort to compose herself and settled on, “Major Egan.”

Maude’s fumble did not fail to surprise the Major. It struck a pitch of laughter out of him instantly.

A pitch that Maude didn’t catch as a reaction to his sudden charm of her. “My apologies.”

So John, well he would swing until he got a home run. “No need to fret, doll.” He reassured her. “‘M not a formalities type anyways. Nothing good comes out of being a tyrant in team sports.”

“You’re an athlete then?” Maude questioned, trying to annunciate her words as loud as possible considering the boisterous music in the room.

Bucky chortled and matched her. “Far from that. Much more enjoy being an observer. A listener. More of a reader nowadays to keep up with the score.”

“Understandable.” She nodded, tilting her head ever-so subtly to get a better reading of him. “And what team has the pleasure of your devotion, Major?”

“Bucky. Please. Call me Bucky.” He corrected her. “And baseball. The New York Yankees,” he replied and her eyes alit with a familiarity John picked up on without fail. “You like the Yanks, doll?”

“Yes — well no. I mean being from Brooklyn it’s only customary for me to be a Dodgers fan. But you — you’re not a New Yorker, so I’ve heard.”

“That’s right. You’re fairly acquainted with me, ain’t yuh? Yet, I can’t recall the same for you. No shot in hell would I ever forget a gal quite as pretty as you.”

“That’s rather kind of you, Maj — Bucky.”

“Got a name, doll? A nickname even? Rank?”

“Maude. Maude Rue Bluell. American Red Cross Nurse for the 100th bomb group. Just touched down last week. But, I’ve found myself replying to the call of Blue. Quite redundant in name. I know. Yet, I have a bit of suspicion that it’s more complimentary of my mood as of late,” she revealed, more than she intended. More than she even expected. Usually — in matters such as this one — she’d find herself to be rather shy and timid. Especially in the presence of such a devily handsome man as Major Egan himself.

But something — something in the way he spoke to her was easing. His teamwork mantra proved to be a strong suit in his personality. She could tell he was a good leader just by his attitude and stance — equalizing himself against a woman in such an untraditional light. Subconsciously, it made Maude more drawn to the young man in uniform.

The edge of his lip curved up in a smirk. “Blue, huh?”

Bluell only had a second to nod in confirmation before the Major grabbed her hand, spinning her in a circle in accordance to the music. He pulled her back just as fast, her back aligning perfectly against his broad solid chest. A strong arm wrapped around her stomach, slender fingers taking shelter against her hip.

He leaned over then, the combination of his lips and mustache tickling the delicate skin of her ear quickened the pace of her heart. “Seems I’ve found myself my very own Blue Sky then,” he whispered.

She let out a laugh. A real genuine one. Lips perking up in a sweet smile.

“Smooth, yeah?” He mused, his lips still close enough to brush a smile against her ear a second time and his voice still low yet husky enough to warm up her insides.

“Mhm,” she hummed simply, rolling her emerald eyes playfully in an attempt to conceal her affections. “Out of the park.” She mused, swaying back and forth in his hold.

“That’a girl!” He chirped as she spun out of his hold.

Their hands puzzled right back together instantly, feet tapping to the beat as they danced with the rest of the pairings on the floor. There they were, forgetting all their troubles in the heat of the party. Just as the other girls intended. Just as John intended. Maybe for once, Maude could admit that the Club was the best medicine for her troubles, even if it would wear off come morning.

John and Maude danced well off into the night, until the nurse’s heels left blisters on her soles and a sheen of sweat dusted the curls on Bucky’s forehead. The Major was one to take notice, channeling his inner gentleman as he excused himself to fetch the two of them refreshments from the bar.

Alone, she moved out of the boisterous crowd to meet the girls but stopped short once she noticed Lieutenant James Douglas approaching them.

Meanwhile, John was situated at the bar next to Buck when a call came through for them. “Buck. Egan”

“Sir.” Buck replied as John took a swig of his drink, waiting patiently for Maude’s to be fixed up.

“From who?” Bucky asked intrigued.

“Operator, I have Majors Cleven and Egan…” Red murmured before passing the phone to Buck.

Buck took it with ease, a chorus of his name ringing out of the speaker from a far too familiar New York accent. “Yup.”

“Ayeeee Buck is that you?” Lieutenant Biddick exclaimed on the line just as John was leaning over to listen in on the conversation.

“Curt.” Buck confirmed, leading John to follow suit an octave louder in a Bucky like fashion.

“Curt!” John banged his fist on the table, pleased to know Curt had made it.

Susie being nosey as she tended to be, did not fail to excuse herself from the flirting attempts of Douglas on Helen. She whipped across the floor in an instant, locking a careful arm around Bluell, dragging her to the bar with her. “It’s Curt!” She chirped, beaming from ear to ear.

“Buck! Buck!” Curt repeated as the girls found themselves at the bar. Q fitting herself right next to Gale on his right – Maude sandwiched between her and Red.

“Yeah, it’s Buck and John. Susie’s here too. Where’d you end up?” Gale spoke for the two of them.

“Ughhhh, that’s a very very good question, but we’re safe and sound ‘er.” Curt replied amidst his own boisterous surroundings. He pulled the phone away for a moment to ask, “Hey! Aye, wh – where am I?”

“Where are ya?” Someone asked far away. Too far away for John or the girls to grasp, but close enough for Gale to catch the tail end of.

“Where am I?” Curt repeated.

“In the devil’s dope son!”

“Ugh–ah we made a wee bit of a mess up ‘er.” Curt explained. “Well – the people are really swell and they’re looking after us. It turns out they don’t like the English much either, but they like me because I’m Irish!”

Again muffled voices took over. “You’re not Irish.”

“I’M IRISH!” Curt yelled, brushing smiles across the faces of Buck, Bucky, and the girls.

“No you’re not.”

“Hey, my family's Irish.” He was still going on, the group trying their hardest not to burst out in laughter. “I told ya I’m an American but anyways… Buck – hold on, hold on.” A rustling sound took over for a moment as Curt resituated himself. “Ugh, I wanted to call you and to let Sue know I’m ‘ight but…Thank you Buck…Thank both of you for saving our asses. I mean it.”

“Yeah, well alright you just get back here soon, Curt.” Buck replied.

“We miss you Curt. We’re glad you’re still with us!” John yelled.

“He’s okay. He’s really okay!” Susie bit back a smile.

“He’s quite alright.” Maude assured, resting a gentle hand on her friend’s shoulder.

“Eh – John said he misses his little spoon.” Buck joked and Sue laughed.

“Heyyyy I’m the big spoon ‘er remember?” Curt chided. “Just ask my Sue. Where’s my Sue?” He asked, unraveling the lollipop she supplied him earlier.

“It’s gonna be cold tonight Curt!” John added.

Curt’s voice became muffled as he shoved the petite treat in his mouth.. “Gotta tell ‘er I’m sucking ‘er cherry rye now.”

“W–What?” Buck’s eyes widened up in surprise and embarrassment at the rather inappropriate and unexpected joke.

John did not fail to miss the twist of Gale’s features. He picked up on it rather quickly, his interest peeking instantly. “What he say? What he say?”

“Nothing.” He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “You know what Curt. Lemme pass the phone. Sue, Curt wants to talk to you.”

She squealed excitedly and grabbed the phone. “Hi baby!” Soon her fingers were wrapped around the cord, mirroring how wrapped up she was in conversation with her man.

Maude watched her friend beam with a newfound sense of radiance. Her joyfulness bounced off of her like bright sunbeams, warming up Bluell just as much.

She was so stuck on the picture of her friend, she didn’t realize John had weaseled his way next to her until he was nudging his shoulder with hers. “Doll..” He pushed a glass of water across the table in front of her.

“Thank you.” She hummed. A smile was still plastered across her face as she took a sip.

“So much for being blue, huh?” John mused, completely infatuated with her smile. “Nothing but blue skies…from now onnnn…” He sang in her ear.

Her cheeks began to sting from smiling so much. “You're something else, Major Egan.”

“Well – I’d hope so. Rather be something than nothing at all, you know?” He replied thoughtfully, so thoughtfully that his simple yet profound words settled deeply within the confines of her chest.

“I –” She began to say something, anything really but lost her train of thought in an instance when a fellow pilot interrupted across the Club to make an announcement.

“Come on everybody! Bike race in the mess hall – who’s in?”

“I am.” Bucky stated.

“Me too.” Buck agreed.

And that was that. It was settled. The boys would be racing and Maude and the rest of the ladies would be pulled along to watch.

John grasped Maude’s hand then to do just that, but stopped her in his tracks as he leaned over to whisper, “wait – don’t I get a good luck kiss?”

His forwardness took her by surprise, and even though his charm was very well infectious, she found herself hesitant to appeal to his wishes. “I wouldn’t suggest pushing your luck, Major, but I’m not the kind of lady to oppose a reward in the face of a victor.”

“Ah,” He held their conjoined hands up and kissed the back of hers, sending goosebumps across her fully clothed skin. “More reason for me to win then, hm.”

“Precisely.” She hummed in agreement, right before he took off, dragging her along. Leaving her in a fatal attempt of matching his long strides as she giggled and yelped out his name.

Before she knew it, she found Lottie and the rest of the girls in the Mess, perched and ready to watch the race along with Croz who was mounting a bike not too far away. She congratulated him in passing, and he was happy to see her. It was all a frenzy of fun and games, absolute excitement – until it wasn’t. Until the boys were just reaching the finish line, – Bucky right behind Buck – and the alarms were going off. Alarms that reminded them of the war they were truly in. A war that kept them on their toes and left them taking shelter. Left John without his kiss and Maude running dry of her medicine.

There would be more blue days than blue skies for Nurse Maude Rue Bluell and Major John Bucky Egan – but this night – this very night proved to be the catalyst of something new for the two.

Something that would become much ado.

iiii!! idk how i feel about this but enjoy peeps. feedback would me amazeballs. also curt is wilddddddd 👀🍒🍭

love ya’ll,

xanadu

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#major john egan x nurse maude bluell #major john bucky egan x ofc #mota fandom #mota fanfiction #major gale buck cleven #major john bucky egan #lieutenant curtis biddick #lieutenant curtis biddick x ofc #maude rue bluell #callum turner fandom #mota fic #masters of the air fanfiction #masters of the air

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eldritch-spouse · 2 years ago

Note

I’m gone for a week and the brenti momentum is gone?? This will not do

I’m having a hard time discerning his personality, and the way your characters talk always make them seem a lot more real, so can we please have any scenario where he’s talking to Reader? I’m thinking good ol’ seduction👀 But you can choose whatever you feel like!

[That's fair, he's far from established, therefore his "live" dynamic is kind of gray. For this short little thing, I'm going off some of the concepts established in this post. Fem reader.]

TW: Noncon.

It's not often you take the time to sit outside. Well, actually, it's more like you don't have the time to do such. Really, you'd love nothing more than to spend entire evenings sprawled on a bench, catching some sun rays and listening to the chirping of avian wildlife. It's just not in the cards for you right now.

However, you need it.

Lately, you've been afflicted with something you have no name for. Burning waves of need have you waking up in the dead of night sweating like a whore in a church, body yearning for anyone to touch it, fill it. Your fingers cramp and there's nothing that can satisfy you when these episodes start. You tried to rationalize it, wondering if you were having some sort of worrying hormone imbalance, especially when these moments became more and more common throughout the day. Shame and confusion quickly shut down the possibility of consulting a doctor about this, so you've been suffering through this odd affliction silently, hoping it'll fade on its own.

When this unrequited, inexplicable arousal gets in the way of your daily tasks, you've developed the habit of going outside and basking in the light, feeling the warmth on your skin, hearing people passing by as you sit perfectly still with your eyes closed. While you wouldn't exactly call this meditation, focusing on evening out your often sped up breathing has some effect in dampening the heat in your loins.

The touch on your arm has you yelping a lot louder than you needed to, glancing around frantically until you spot him to your left side.

The demon... Uh, hybrid? To be frank, you have no idea what Brenti is. Nor are you about to ask, you should have when you first met him, but the time for that has passed now- It would sound rude. Nevertheless, the tall monster stands to your side with a bright, sharp-toothed smile.

He's more than a little odd. You remember meeting him only about two or so weeks ago, he introduced himself as a resident of Hell looking to move in somewhere on the surface, and you two really hit it off. There's a sort of mystic charm to the apparently eyeless demonoid. He's clearly out of sorts here, subjected to the stares of every local for standing out like a sore thumb, but his eagerness to try and fit in, his optimism, quickly made you develop a growing fondness for the monster. Plus, he seems to deal with the foreign attention pretty well- In fact, you've seen him get approached by some of the more outgoing, daring folk. You're pretty sure he's single though.

Which is almost paradoxical given how attractive he is. He's... Very good looking, in a unique way. You've never seen anything like him, and you hope Brenti can't tell when your stare lingers- If he can, he doesn't look bothered by it.

" Woah! H- Hey, were you asleep? " He starts, tail wagging at your jarring reaction, watching you try to compose yourself.

" N... No, I just got lost in thoughts. " You shrug, forcing yourself to look elsewhere.

His presence isn't helping your case. In fact, it's doing the opposite. The last thing you need right now is to have to interact with the good-looking go-getter that's been buzzing around. Unfortunately, Brenti seems to favor your company above most other locals'.

" Oh. It's kind of nice seeing you out here! You're always busy, aren't you? "

His hand has not left your shoulder and you're starting to sweat again. What a weird thing to say... Has he been hoping to see you more?

" More or less, you know how life is, right? " Weird, life has gotten very weird recently.

The demonoid nods. " Uhuh, you work really hard, it's pretty inspiring. "

You blink. It always catches you a little off guard when he compliments you. The way Brenti says things makes it unclear if he's flirting or being genuine. Maybe he just says that to everyone? It's not as if you watch him interact with others too much, but he always has an excitable look on his face. The one time you saw him frown was when another monster walked up to him.

" That's sweet of you, uhm, thanks. "

Awkwardness settles, you gulp and play with the hem of your shirt. Brenti stays quiet for a couple of moments, you think you heard him inhale sharply, but then he clears his throat.

" So... I was wondering if you wanted to take a walk with me. " He eventually breaks the silence, offering you a slightly less confident demeanor, but one full of hope nonetheless.

" R-Right now? " You're sure you're wet enough to almost be making a puddle on the fucking bench, overheating your body even more is far from a good idea.

" Sure! I mean- Only if you feel like it of course. But, to be honest, I've wanted to talk to you a bit more. You're so pretty. "

" Ah... " Somewhat shakily getting up, your eyes roam everywhere but the monster's general direction. Though it seems he's not content with that, quickly striding to almost glue himself to you. Did he always smell this good? " Thanks. " You sound like a broken record.

Should you return the compliment? It'll look kind of weird if you don't.

" You're uh- You're- " God fucking damn it, what are you even supposed to say?

" ... Yeah? "

Brenti begins walking leisurely anyway, and you quickly follow, aware he's very avidly waiting for you to to finish the sentence. Something about his attitude feels a lot more intense out of nowhere.

It takes a painful amount of time before you settle on something, probably because your mind isn't thinking of wholesome flattery. " You're very unique. " You fucking idiot, he's going to take that as an insult. " In a good way! I've just... Never really seen anyone like you before. "

The monster beside you beams very visibly, smile crawling further up his face. But wherein Brenti'll only smile and laugh when others toss flattery at him, you note he bares his gums to you, tongue flicking out to wet his thin dark lips. His subsequent smile is less cordial, less natural.

" That's sweet of you. " He parrots, mockingly maybe, it's hard to read him.

You're not paying attention to where either of you are going, limiting yourself to following the larger one's slight lead. It's only after a couple of silent minutes trying to reign in your hormones that you realize he's leading you deeper into the park. Well, you are on a walk with him, this is only normal... The notion doesn't ease your sudden attentiveness.

And you were right to feel slight uneasiness, because the monster eventually halts right in front of you. There's a purr steadily rising from his chest.

" You're wet. " He eventually comments, tail swishing rapidly behind you. " Like really, really wet. "

An already stressed heart skips several beats. What- What are you even supposed to say to that? It didn't occur to you that he'd be the type of monster than can sense that- Probably because monsters aren't that common around these parts. You never had to consider things like that before.

Frozen, you offer the demonoid a terrified glance.

" Can I taste you? "

" What?! No- What the fuh- "

He takes one step forward, forcing you to take one back. " Oh, but I can fix it, you need help, it's okay! " Brenti tries that winning smile again, but its charm dies on arrival. " You know, I didn't think it'd work so fast. "

You don't even want to ask. " ... Brenti, step back. "

He doesn't. You know you're defenseless against a monster like him in this state.

" You've been responding so well to me already! " The monster leers. " I didn't think my cum would take that fast, you must really love me. "

The world stops spinning. Shaky hues meet a white canvas of a face, searching for a hint of a joke that's not there. Who is this guy?

" Your... You- Your... "

Brenti lowers a hand to his slit, shamelessly touching himself as he steps further and further towards you, scenting the air with his tongue out. You mirror his steps backwards.

" Mhm. Asleep, you suck it off my fingers and everything. You're such a slut, I love you. " Brenti sighs, sounding manic and infatuated all at once. " You're only like this because you need it, you know? Need me. "

There's tears pooling in the corners of your eyes.

" No no, don't cry! I'm here, I'll help. It'll be easy- " Discolored, twin cocks begin poking out of his slicked slit. " You make me so hard, I'm almost embarrassed about how fast I cum for you. "

Your back collides with what you think must be a tree, watching the drooling, twitching demonoid approach you. This is a far cry from the monster you met that day, an even more torpid, twisted vision of the newcomer locals go out of their way to engage with.

" You're going to be my mate, you're going to be the sweetest fuck of my entire life- I'll make you soo happy! You'll see! "

When a cloying, fruity scent hits your nostrils, you know it's time to flee. An overworked metabolism burdened by the spoils of this beast's depraved work speeds off into unknown directions.

The ground shakes behind you.

It's a matter of time.

It was only ever a matter of time.

#Brenti oc #yandere monster #yandere teratophilia

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stabbyfoxandrew · 9 months ago

Note

happy wipwednesday my beloved! i glad to see that you survived yesterday's fight with our angel and came out winning!

i am here to humbly request to know what your other problem child is up after he fucked up his not-date. Can't wait for you to break my heart again but until then:

kith <3

WIP Wednesday (4/3) | Arsonist Neil / Firefighter Andrew AU (Part 126)

The only way Neil can fix this is by explaining himself. And explaining means telling the truth. A lot of it. Pretty much all of it, he thinks.

How can he possibly do that?

Neil’s never told anyone the truth. Well, besides the FBI. And that doesn’t really count because he had no choice. That night it was either tell the truth or go to prison for being related to Nathan Wesninski. He chose wisely, of course. But it was no picnic for him. Neil recalls those horrible hours he spent recounting his absolutely abysmal childhood to a government issue thug wearing scuffed loafers and a bored expression.

They didn’t believe him at first. Not totally. They made him rehash everything over and over until his throat was raw from talking so much and they were finally, finally satisfied with his life story. Then they shoved him into witness protection, where he was forced to spend almost a year living in North Dakota under the name Peter Duncan.

God, Neil loathes that state. And he loathed Peter. And that stupid, dinky little apartment with the awful neighbors and shoddy TV service. Sure it was stable. Normal, even. But, as insane as it would seem to anyone else, he prefers being on the road again. Running is something he’s used to. Something that makes sense even though his demons are long buried.

He likes traveling without a destination. He likes free Wi-Fi and complimentary breakfasts and room service and nice people telling him to ‘come again’. He likes his stupid little car and it’s stupid broken radio that’s thankfully stuck on a sports channel.

Hell, he even likes Neil. He likes the man he’s become since crawling out from under his mother’s corpse and his father’s ax. Because despite everything— all the names he’s used and cities he’s seen and things he’s had to do to survive— he’s turned out to be a mostly decent person. Except for the whole… ‘burning down buildings’ thing. But he’s working on it. Sort of. And on the bright side, he hasn’t killed anyone in years. Those were all self defense, of course. So… Do they really count?

Wait a minute, Neil blinks. What was his point?

Oh. Right. The truth.

Other than those suited pricks at the bureau, it’s a completely foreign concept to him. Neil runs his fingers through his hair a few dozen times, the curls tangling around his fingers as he does. He rips his fingers through and wonders if he should shave his head again. No. No, it’s about to be winter and he hates when his ears are cold.

And with his hair longer, he looks less like his father.

To prove that, Neil looks into the bathroom mirror and finds Neil Josten there. Not Nathan or Nathaniel. Not even Peter. (Of course not, Peter had black hair.) Neil gives his disassembled phone a glance and wonders if Andrew would’ve wanted to be friends with Peter. Or any of his other aliases with friendly dispositions.

It wouldn't matter. None of them would ever have even tried. That's one thing that sets him apart from all his past selves. He's trying. Neil lets out a breath. He’ll put his phone back together and tell Andrew… Something.

In a day or two.

When he figures out what that something is.

#your boy is Thinking tonight my dear. he is having a Time rn. (cue neil josten freaking out about the terrifying prospect of being known)#also muah muah muah <3333 #andreil #aftg #WIP Wednesday #Arsonist Neil / Firefighter Andrew #🕊️#answered #tisaqslur

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player1064 · 9 months ago

Note

Carra fucking off to skiing and David and Gary are immediately going all ♥ ♥ ♥ come get your man back James

So for a prompt if you still do them: Everyone is sick and tired of carraville dancing around each other but being cowards to actually do anything about it, so to get things moving Becks starts dropping hints that he might make a move on Gary.

(next time they meet gary's neck is full of hickeys and carra is very smug. they are even more insufferable than before. roy is rolling his eyes so hard he is able to see his own brain)

LOVE the idea of becks also being in on a plot to get them together. and of everyone asking becks to do it for them bc they don't want to/are too scared/lazy/dumb to do it themselves

---

“David,” says Scholesy.

“Scholesy,” says David.

“David, he’s driving me insane. I seriously cannot take it anymore.”

David doesn’t bother asking who ‘he’ is, or what he’s driving Scholesy insane about, because it’d be the same answer as it’s been for the past god knows how many years.

“I’m sure the two of them will figure it out eventually,” he offers sympathetically, to which Scholesy just groans in frustration.

“I’ll be long dead before that ‘appens.”

“Becks, I swear, they’re getting worse by the day.”

He and Keaney are sat with Wrighty at a little table in the media lounge at Wembley, watching Gary joke around with Carragher a few feet away. The two of them seem to be in their own little bubble, completely oblivious to the others around them. Their constant laughter is loud and annoying, especially since as far as David can tell neither of them is actually saying anything that funny.

It's kind of sweet, really.

“I think it’s sweet,” Wrighty says. “Don’t you remember how intense they both were as players? This is a massive improvement.”

“Yeah, but it’s driving me nuts! I mean, this is one thing, but it’s all the stupid little sighs and the – the longing looks, it’s enough to make you lose the will to live.”

In the past few months, David has had to listen to complaints about Gary and Carragher from every single one of his old friends from United, as well as some old England teammates that have worked with them at Sky or on The Overlap. They all seem to be under the impression that something needs to be done about it, that they can’t just let it run its natural course.

They also all seem to be in agreement that the person who needs to be doing something about it is David.

He wonders absently if it’s not too late to hand the ‘Gaz’s best friend’ card off to somebody else.

“So, Carragher.”

“What about him?”

Gary blinks at David from across the table, and if David didn’t know him so well he’d think he was being deliberately obtuse. Unfortunately, David does know him, well enough to know that he really is just that stupid.

He shoots him a Look, which has the desired effect of making Gary scowl at him, and then he says “nothin’, nothin’. Just noticed you two’ve been working together a lot lately.”

Gary shrugs. “He’s a good partner, to be fair. People like our dynamic. And he’s smart, though don’t tell ‘im I said that.”

“You spend much time with him outside of work?”

Gary squints, his face scrunching up in confusion. “Outside of work?” he asks, like it’s a completely foreign concept to him. Like there is no outside of work.

Which, it’s Gary, so for him there probably isn’t.

Maybe David needs to try a different approach.

The next time Gary is in London to cover a game with Sky, David shoots him a quick text asking dinner?, which Gary responds to with a thumbs up and the name of his hotel. Whether that’s because he wants to eat there or because he wants David to come pick him up he’s not sure, but either way he finds himself pulling up outside the Corinthia hotel that Friday evening, dressed in his smartest jeans and an unfussy old blazer.

He goes into the bar area, thinking he’ll order a drink and wait for Gary to come down, but Gary’s already there, sat at the bar with Carragher.

Perfect.

David meanders over to them, feeling slightly smug that he’s still enough to tear Gary’s attention away from Jamie, that Gary still gives him a glowy smile when he sees him approaching.

When he gets to them he shakes Jamie’s hand in greeting, pressing his other hand to the small of Gary’s back as he does so. Gary startles momentarily at the contact, but he quickly shakes it off and leans into the touch, beaming up at David.

“Becks!” he greets. “Me ‘n Carra were just catchin’ up while I was waitin’ for you to arrive. He’s stayin’ here this weekend, too, y’see.”

David notices that while Gary’s nattering away, Jamie’s eyes are fixed on where his hand is resting on Gary’s back, his lips pressed tightly together. David catches his eye and winks, giving him his prettiest smile.

He figures he might as well go all in, get the whole thing over and done with sooner rather than later, so he bends his head down to kiss the top of Gary’s head while he carries on chatting nonsense about tomorrow’s game.

The kiss stops Gary in his tracks, makes him blush a familiar shade of pink and then preen a bit, smiling up at David warmly.

Meanwhile, Jamie’s looking between the two of them like he’s ready to kill someone. Gary doesn’t spare him a second glance.

“Wha’d’ya fancy eating, Gaz?” David asks softly, pretending not to have noticed Jamie’s reaction.

“Whatever you like,” Gary says, just like he always does when the two of them go out to eat. “They’ve a pretty decent restaurant here, if you don’t fancy goin’ out. Otherwise, you prob’ly know the restaurants around London better’n I do, don’t you?”

David accidentally-on-purpose runs into him at the stadium the next day, and once again asks if he fancies going out for dinner.

“Erm,” Gary replies, reaching his hand up to rub at a dark patch on his neck. “I dunno, really, not sure if there’s anythin’ else Sky wants us for tonight, y’know?”

“Carragher can come too, if he wants,” David offers, rolling his eyes with a smirk at the way Gary instantly brightens.

“Oh!” he says, a blush rising up his cheeks, “oh, alright then! Think we’re both free, now that I think about it. I’ll just go check with ‘im and let you know.”

#also gaz being completely over whatever feelings he may have had for becks in his youth #but becks is still quite physically affectionate w him. which makes gary happy and ENRAGES jamie skjdahgfajdsh #carraville #drabbles #beville #well. a bit of beville. a smidge.

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hana-no-seiiki · 2 years ago

Text

お客様は神様　(THE GUEST IS GOD)

HOST CLUB PREPARATIONS / PROLOGUE - 女中 [THE MAID]

YANDERE GUEST X GENDER NEUTRAL! HOST CLUB WORKER! READER X (IMPLIED) YANDERE/YANGIRE BOSS + COWORKERS

waiver: the place is set in “japan” ,characters speak in japanese, so if you don’t like honorifics or terms (e.g. senpai, san, sama) then uh yeah. this doesn’t mean your character has to be japanese though! i’ve added a lot of “foreigner”characters so it wouldn’t be weird for you to be one as well.

mc is a total bitch and a half. like an absolute asshole.

sexual harassment, sexual assault, yandere guest gropes your everywhere and forces you to grope him, violence.

Reminder that the Guest is God Host Club isn’t responsible for any injuries and/or deaths that happen. please take proper precautions, honorable guests!

host description: drunk out of his mind, your apparent “ex” starts harassing you in the host club you happen to be serving in.

and as much as you’d love to punch him into oblivion, it is imperative you show him as good time.

the guest of this place is god after all.

host status: unedited, will add images later on.

more about the host: THIS IS AN INTRODUCTORY POST TO MY OCS AND MY WEBTOON CONCEPTS. Final OC designs might be incredibly different in the webtoon itself.

although reader may be called a maid, they aren’t explicitly fem. they will be using gender neutral pronouns.

MINORS / PEOPLE WITH NO IDS (AGELESS BLOGS) AREN’T ALLOWED TO ENTER.

If you’d like to be updated for when we next open, please reply to this post to be subscribed to our taglist!

YOU WERE AWFULLY FORTUNATE WHEN IT CAME TO FINANCIAL MATTERS. You had rich benefactors (whoever they were) and enough money to live several lifetimes in comfort. Despite not knowing where all this wealth came from, you learnt to just be content with your ignorance. It wasn’t as if it was threatening your life, and the stream of money was always consistent in terms of amount and the dates it came in.

But that is exactly why you found yourself in this situation.

It started from one of your days lounging at your extravagant penthouse apartment. With nothing to do but play games and throw money at fictional characters, and escorts. You were fine with your lavish yet miserably lonely lifestyle. So, it was safe to say you were surprised to have suddenly received an envelop on your doorstep.

It was red with shiny accents of spider lilies. You open it to see a letter (what a suprise!). It seemed handwritten, judging from the slight differences some letters appeared but still high quality none the less.

You’ve watched enough survival games to know where this was going.

And sure enough, you were forced into a job as someone that serves and accommodates guests.

These guest varied from people you’ve never even met before, to friends and even people you loathed.

Like the one you’re facing right now.

You weren’t supposed to accommodate this guest at all, in fact, you were already done with your shift. But as you were unzipping the maid costume you were forced to wear during workdays, you hear timid voice from behind you.

“U-uhm…[L/N]-先輩…”

Hazu, a tall but extremely shy co-worker of yours called your name.

His costume was completely different from yours. Sporting a suit with fetish-wear straps that accentuated his long legs, and a pair of short whore gloves, Hazu was forced by your employer to play the “Dom/Sadist” archetype.

And, like you in the beginning, was terrible at it.

“Let me guess, your guest is a hard sub and you’re having trouble keeping up?”

“N-no. I think they were mi-mis-categorized!” Hazu made fists and shook them in air in frustration. What a cutie. “I mean, seriously! He seems more like a sadist! He kept insulting my height! I’m just a little above average d-damn it!”

You placed a hand on his hair. Soft, and fluffy brown, you always tried to make an excuse to touch it before. But nowadays you just touched it whenever you two had overlapping shifts. Which happened to be most days, lucky you.

“Your 先輩 will take care of it then.” Hazu melts under your touch. You always managed to disintegrate any and all anxieties he faced. It was miraculous really. He’d always been a nervous person. But the way you almost parented him, checked on him every step of his journey towards graduation, provided him with his favorite food just so he gains that extra bit of comfortability… you…you were just perfect in every way.

If only he knew the side of you that comes out after shifts.

“If he tries to hurt you…”

“If he tries hurting me our boss and/or bodyguard will deal with it. Don’t worry too much okay? Take care.”

And you left, not bothering to wait for a response. You wanted this night to be done and dealt with. You had hobbies to get to, and your darling spouse (that is your bed) to greet when you came home.

You sighed as you left the staff room.

“Useless piece of shit.”

“お客様—“

“[Y/N]? Hah! It is you!” The man, Hazu’s ex guest, yelled into your ear. His breath reeked of alcohol.

And you had no recollection of ever meeting him.

He had white hair, shaved at the sides, and green eyes that reminded you of pine trees. Piercings on his ears, nose and below his lips. He wore jewelry all over his hands and a collar.

With your name on it.

Shit.

“What, yer family’s money finally gone down the drain?” His hands moved to grope every part of your body. It was that moment when you realized he might not be the delusional asshole you pegged him to be.

He knew just the places you were sensitive in. His hands felt so familiar,

yet so wrong at the same time.

“Nah it couldn’t have been, shit like that is impossible to lose easily.”

He was right. Even if you tried to blow away all the money you held it was almost impossible to go into debt. Any time you went past your budget and checked, it would have been already been paid by your anonymous benefactor.

You wondered if they knew the situation you were in, and why the hell they haven’t done anything to save you yet.

You eventually broke out of the man’s hold, it wasn’t hard considering he was drunk. “お客様, kindly move aside so that this lowly servant may be able to clean your seat.”

“You’re doing this for some weird fetish aren’t you? Just like how-“ He gagged, and you were about to bolt in case he threw up again but thankfully he didn’t, “Just like how you used me *hic* so that you’d be the most popular or whatever.”

He pulled you closer again. In a few moments, you found him atop the mess he made earlier and you above his lap. You took a deep breath and prayed to everything that is holy for him to not barf on you or your uniform touching whatever it is he vomited on the couch.

But he only stared at you. Your features. Traced every part with a soft look on his face that you wanted oh so dearly to rip off of him for some reason.

Scratch that, you did have a specific reason and that was his hard-on that you can feel poking your ass.

“お客様—“

“Fuck, I’m hard.”

Yeah, you could tell.

“[Y/N]. You feel this right?”

‘Yes.’ You glared at him, biting your lip to ensure you didn’t say anything that would go on record and make your boss go nuts again for going out of character. Whoever this man was, he was definitely lucky he found you in uniform. In any other place or situation you would have definitely destroyed his family jewels at this point.

“I fucked *hic* so many whores but none of them where like *hic* you.”

‘Fucking horndog.’

“Hey, [Y/N]. Let’s get back together, alright? I miss you baby. I know you miss me too.”

He leaned forward and your lips almost touched if it weren’t for metallic claws ripping him away from you.

His mangled body, though still alive, would definitely have to go through several months in the hospital if not a whole year to recover. His blood mixed with the filth that covered the floor and furniture.

‘Finally.’ You adjusted your uniform and began sanitizing everything.

“Excellent show of self control, Mx. [L/N].” You heard clapping behind you.

“It is all thanks to you, sir Melchior.” You stood up and immediately gave him a 90 degree bow. Your tools hidden behind you.

“Oh, you flatterer!” His golden eyes shone even under the dim lighting.

Although Aurum Melchior, your boss, was old enough to be your grandfather at this point. The years adored him. He looked breathtakingly handsome for a man whose silver hair overtook his blond ones ages ago.

He wore a dark grey suit, with a long fur coat on his shoulders. The threatening grin on his face never left him whenever he faced your form.

“But it seems that I’m who’d like this fool gone. You know, murder is quite a big sentence to deal with . . .”

“Oh but is it really murder if there are no witnesses?”

“Touché.” The cane he always brought around despite being able to walk properly poked and prodded at your guest’s unconscious face. “Bear. Get rid of the drunkard.”

A woman with a bear mask behind him nodded, carrying the body and quickly making an exit. How she did so with those sharp claws, you never knew nor did you ever want to. Ursa wasn’t really much of a talker anyways.

Besides, you preferred her silent yet efficient attitude in comparison to blabbering messes most of your co-workers are. Seriously, the amount of times you had to comfort Hazu was uncountable. You could unconsciously feel the tears and snot running down your shoulders. Why couldn’t he just get a move on and get with the persona given to him already?

“Au revoir, Mx. [L/N]. There are still many shifts until your graduation.”

“Have a pleasant night, boss.”

“Have a pleasant night.”

THANK YOU FOR VISITING THE GUEST IS GOD HOST CLUB!

Have these, free of service!

先輩 - senpai - senior (work/school)

お客様 - okyakusama - honorable guest/visitor

If you’d like to be updated for when we next open, please reply to this post to be subscribed to our taglist!

[opening schedules] [next opening]

If you’d like to be updated for when we next open, please reply to this post to be subscribed to our taglist !

If you’d like to be updated for when we next open, please reply to this post to be subscribed!

We hope to see you soon.

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memphisnovels · 1 year ago

Text

Evermore

Chapter 7. If we survived the Great war

Masterlist

Previous chapter

Hello hello! Chapter 7 friends

Following this chapter Evermore is going to be Pietro central, so I hope you all enjoy, so much flirting and arguing to come x

pairing: Pietro Maximoff x OFC

warnings: BFF Anna, angst, injuries, PTSD, proof Tony Stark has a heart

My vision was foggy when my eyes opened once more. The slow rhythm of a monitor beeping filled my ears as I glanced around the room, it wasn’t a hospital, but it definitely wasn’t the Avengers Tower either. My attention was piqued by the sound of a door opening and closing.

“Welcome back,” Anna murmured, a soft smile coming to sit on her face. “You gave us all quite the scare.” I shifted in the bed, attempting to sit up. “Just take it slow, Nads, you’re on a lot of pain meds and you don’t want to pop a stitch.”

I thanked her for the cup of water she handed me. “Where are we?”

“The new Avengers compound. You passed out on the lifeboat; the medics took care of you on board, but you’ve been out since then. Helen Cho worked her magic on you when you got back here.” The moment the water hit my lips it became apparent just how thirsty I was, it was as if I’d been walking through the Sahara for days, my throat dry and torn. “You know a text would have been nice. Didn’t need to be long, just a simple ‘hey Anna heading off to save the world talk to you later’.” I smiled into the cup at her taunting tone. “I mean here I am kicking back in Istanbul, and I get a call from Natasha saying you’re bleeding out in bloody Sokovia.”

My body felt light, as though it were floating. I guessed it was the medication. “Well, I did not want to disturb you, miss superspy.” She rolled her eyes, flipping me her middle finger as she dropped into the seat beside the bed. “I’m sorry, next time a robot man is intent on global destruction I’ll send you an email.”

“Please do!” I snorted at her, resting my head back against the crisp white pillows. “I missed you, smartass. The fiercely independent thing is fine, all I ask is the odd update so I know you’re still breathing, really any sign of life would be much appreciated.”

“Ugh, you people with all your emotions.” I teased, keeping my eyes closed. She huffed in feigned annoyance at my words. “I will try to keep you updated.” I popped a single eye open to watch her roll her eyes and smile at me gently. “How is your peculiar little rat?”

She shook her head at me, a scowl taking over her expression. “By that, I assume you mean my Pomeranian?” I hummed in response prompting her to sigh exasperatedly before telling me how the little creature was faring. “You can pretend to disdain George all you want but I’ve seen you giving him treats and spoiling him with pets.”

“Poor little Georgie, I feel bad for the beast, he is so tiny. Like a little doll, all of the other dogs will bully him.”

We continued like this for a while, catching up on life, at least as much as we could with her MI6 confidentialities and my innate displeasure in sharing my secrets. It was nice, to hear Anna’s voice, to have her here. She was the first person whom I’d found comfort in the presence of. There was safety with her, that is what our friendship was built on. Although, friendship did seem an inadequate word for our kinship. Family was what we had called it over the years, though even now that still seemed such a foreign concept it made my skin crawl each time, I lingered on the thought too long.

“You know you really did give us a scare, Nads.” I nodded at her, poking at the chocolate pudding that had been given to me. The first time I had one of these I was 21 and it was at the hospital in New York whilst I sat at Anna’s bedside after she’d had a particularly tough assignment. At the time I had been disgusted by the thought of this strange brown, custardy substance, even when I tried it, I found myself turned off by the thought of what ingredients went into making the uniquely American delicacy. However, they’d grown on me over the years. “Each of the Avengers have been in to see you that many times it’s becoming a little silly. Thor left you those before heading home.” She nodded toward an egregiously large bouquet of flowers. I bit back a smile at the thought of him purchasing that. What a very odd person. God. Whatever. “Nat got you something as well, she said she left it in your room…” The way Anna spoke then immediately made me suspicious. There was something she wanted to say, something on the tip of her tongue that she was biting back.

I raised an eyebrow at her but still she remained silent, swallowing down what might have been a laugh. “For God’s sake, just spit it out.”

“It’s nothing… I was just saying how you worried us… all of us.” I narrowed my eyes at her. She was trying extremely hard not to laugh now, I could tell. “That Maximoff boy, particularly.” She could no longer stop herself as a little giggle slipped out.

A sigh of utter exasperation came from me as she continued to laugh. “I am not sure what is so funny, Anna. What do I care of that infuriating prick?”

She grinned at me. “He’s been here more than anyone else. Honestly, I wasn’t sure he’d leave your side until I told him to piss off and take a shower.” I rolled my eyes at her. “Seriously he wouldn’t stop pacing around the room, I thought he was gonna wear a hole through the floor.”

I could not believe this woman. “Good for him.”

“He’s cute.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” I muttered shoving a heaping spoonful of pudding into my mouth and attempting a nonchalant shrug.

She narrowed her eyes at me, but I simply avoided her gaze. “Are you sure?” I did not like her tone.

“He is a terrorist.”

“No one’s perfect.” I gaped at her implication, her gaze remained set on me, unwavering. It was not okay with me that she felt she could see through me so easily. “Plus, I wouldn’t really call him a terrorist, an idiot? Maybe, but he joined the Avengers in the end so…” She shrugged, stealing a spoonful of pudding from me.

“You are beginning to piss me off now.”

She only laughed again, taking another spoonful of the chocolatey goodness. “Why because I’m right and you’re saying the exact same thing in your head?”

I opened my mouth to disagree but before I could get the words out her phone began ringing, cutting me off. She pulled up a bag from beside her feet, laying it on the end of the bed. “I’m so sorry, I have to get this. I’ll be back to check on you in a little while.” I nodded, gesturing for her to go.

Unfortunately, I was not left alone for very long as Dr. Cho came in to check on me. “I am feeling much better now, can I go?”

She breathed a laugh, checking over the machine and taking a quick look under the bandage at my hip. “You’ll be fine to leave whenever you’re ready, Nadia. The wound looks far better already.”

“Great. I do not want any of the special medicine either, just give me the basics, nothing that affects my consciousness.”

“I would recommend taking something stronger for the pain, your body can heal without the medication, but you’d be putting yourself through so much unnecessary pain. You sustained a lot of damage, there’s no shame in taking something a little stronger.”

I pulled the blankets off of my legs, swinging them over the side of the bed. Within the bag, Anna had left was a clean set of clothes for me to change into. “I’ve had worse. I’ll be fine. Thank you, Dr Cho.”

She shook her head and sighed quietly, handing me two little bottles. “It’s your choice, I’m giving you something stronger as well just in case.” I took the bottles and tossed them into the bag, ignoring her look of frustration. “All right, well keep an eye on the wound and come back in a couple of days so I can check the healing progress.”

When I was alone again, I slipped into the small bathroom attached to the med bay, pulled off the hospital gown, and stepped into the shower. Most of the blood had been wiped from me though there was still quite a lot, alongside all sorts of dirt and debris which clung to me. The water ran black and red as it swirled down the drain, taking with it the stress and agonies of my time in Sokovia. A deep ache set into my muscles as the medication began to wear off, bringing me to a crisper consciousness where pain lay in wait.

I left the medical wing, swallowing down the agony that seared in my body as I wandered aimlessly down the unfamiliar hallway. The compound was quite fancy, not that it surprised me, Stark did have a flare for that kind of thing. Glass panes surrounded me, glossy floors which the light bounced off of.

“Hey, kid!” I glanced over my shoulder to see the man himself approaching me. “Glad to see you’re back on your feet, come on I’ll show you your new room.” He walked beside me, keeping pace with my pained, slightly slower stride. “What do you think of the new place? Nice huh? I thought the windows made it a little reminiscent of the tower, plus you know light and all that good stuff.” The end of his sentence came swiftly, almost as if he were glossing over the words as he spoke to them, he glanced at me so briefly it was almost unnoticeable.

“Yes, it’s… it’s nice, different to the tower, but nice.”

He nodded quickly, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, definitely. Less light pollution out here though.” I remained silent as he showed me to my new room. It was spacious and the walls were white. Not sterile, hospital-white, rather a softer, warmer white that made it feel open. A large, plush bed sat in the middle of a wall, surrounded by side tables, and in the corner sat an empty bookshelf and a desk but none of these things were what held my attention. There was a whole wall lined with beautiful glass windows, the sun trickling through to bathe the furniture in warmth. I stepped toward them, holding a hand out to let the rays of sun engulf my flesh. “It’s a lot of light I know, but I had controls installed to tint the windows as much or as little as you want. All with the click of this remote.” He held up a little white controller. “They can go completely blackout, or you can just dim it, they’re also one-sided so you can see out, but no one can see in.” He spoke the way he always did, with that cool disposition that made him seem untouchable. He spoke as if it were nothing, when to me, this meant more than he’d ever know.

A picture frame sitting on the bedside table caught my attention, it was simple but nice, inside lay a photograph of Natasha and me. I picked it up to examine it closer, it was the night Ultron had attacked us in the Avenger’s tower when Nat had insisted we take a picture together before the party. Stuck to the top corner of the frame was a pink Post-it note.

What could be more you than your own face?

As I gazed into the glass encasing the image, I was able to see my own reflection staring back at me. I was smiling and my eyes were watery. Quickly placing the picture back down on the nightstand I looked at the roof, pretending to be stretching my neck as I took a deep breath. “You asked me what she showed me.” I finally spoke after a few long moments.

He asked what I meant.

“You asked me what the witch showed me, in the shipyard.” I turned to face him then.

“You don’t have to tell me.”

“No, I don’t, and I’m not going to either. Not now.” He raised an eyebrow at me. I exhaled deeply before continuing. “The place where I was raised… it was dark, and it was cold all the time and there was never music. For most of my life, that was what I knew, cold, dark, silence.” I could feel his gaze on me, but I did not meet it. “I don’t mind the light pollution in New York because it means that it is always light. I like the sound of the traffic because when I wake up during the night, there is sound. I asked you for a room with windows so that I always know, I am not in that place.” I shook my head. “Not anymore.”

There was silence again then. We stood facing each other but not meeting each other’s gaze, sitting in a silence that was surprisingly comfortable. He nodded. “Okay.” It was a word atop an exhale. A word that was simple, but in that moment, it had weight. It was an acknowledgement and it meant something to me. He turned to the door, placed the little remote on the desk, and took a step forward.

“Tony.” Both of us froze at the sound of my voice. In all the years that I’d known this man, I had never once called him by his first name. “You are a mad scientist, and sometimes a bit of a prick.” He smiled sheepishly, furrowing his eyebrows slightly at my words. “But you are also a good man, a man who saved the world. Thank you.” I looked toward the beams of sunlight streaming through my windows.

“I’ll see you around, Nads.” He spoke, turning to leave. Before he stepped out of the room, I saw the way his lips curved upward, it brought a soft smile to my own face.

…

Anna did come back, just as she said she would. She had to board a flight back to England to report to MI6 before leaving again for her next assignment. It was a busy life, one that we had in common. “You know sometimes I think maybe I should’ve chosen MI6 over S.H.I.E.L.D. Then I would not have to contend with jaded AI and near doomsday events on a weekday.”

She laughed. “It would be nice to get to see you more often.” She wrapped me in her warm embrace and for a moment I tensed, but then it was Anna, and it was okay. She exhaled softly, shaking her head as she pulled away with a small, earnest smile. “No... Superhero suits you better.”

I narrowed my eyebrows at her, an amused smile spreading across my lips. “Look after yourself.”

“No, you look after yourself.” She spoke, her tone shifting to a scolding one, like an older sister. “I mean it.” She added, pointing at me.

When she was gone, and it was quiet I slipped into the large bed facing the windows. For a while, I just watched the intricate patterns drawn on the marble floors by the sun trickling in. “J.A.R.V.I.S… are you there?” I spoke into the room, feeling a little silly for the bubble of hope in my chest. For a moment there was silence, and I was almost embarrassed, of course, he was not there, J.A.R.V.I.S was installed into the red man they called Vision.

“Hello, Nadia. My name is F.R.I.D.A.Y, Mr. Stark has installed me in the Avengers compound now that J.A.R.V.I.S has left.” It was a woman’s voice, she was Irish. “Perhaps I can help?”

I swallowed heavily. “It is very quiet in here...” My words trailed off, I did not know what to say and it felt stupid and weak now.

“The previous Avengers tower was soundproof also so J.A.R.V.I.S emitted quiet cityscape sounds into your room. Would you like me to do this as well?” Her voice was gentle and non-judgmental.

“Yes. Yes, please.”

The moment I’d finished my sentence the low hum of traffic, wind, and life streamed into the room. “Of course, is there anything else I can help with?”

I lowered myself, resting my head back on the plush pillows and snuggling into the duvet. “No thank you… F.R.I.D.A.Y.” She told me I was welcome and then she was gone. I dimmed the windows slightly, just enough that the sun wasn’t blaring but I could still see out. As soon as I was comfortable, I rolled onto my side.

I couldn’t sleep on my back, not anymore. It was odd to feel incapable of such a mundane thing. In support group, they call things like that a trigger. I’d never found a better term for that feeling that occurs in the dead of night when the room is still, and I am on my back with my eyes closed. It’s the feeling of my legs in stirrups, needles injecting me with a drug that made me feel as though I were underwater. My muscles turned to mush, and my body was stolen from me. Parts that were supposed to be mine. Proof that nothing belonged to me in the Red Room.

I tended to favor side sleeping.

…

When my eyes opened, I was bathed in darkness. I could feel sweat pricking at the back of my neck and my heart was thumping quickly in my chest. Taking a long, deep breath I closed my eyes and focused. The hushed sound of traffic enveloping me, my heart slowed slightly, and I reopened my eyes, snatching the remote and turning the dimmer off on the windows to reveal the silver glow of moonlight. After a while, the air began flowing smoothly into my lungs and my heart returned to its normal rhythm, the sweat dried and I was okay.

I took my time walking to the kitchen, creating a mental map of the compound as I went. It did not take me long to realize that the red was gone, no longer sitting in the corner of my vision, taunting me. I remained vigilant nonetheless, awaiting it’s return so it could not catch me by surprise. Before I turned the corner into the room, I was presuming was the kitchen based on the sound of voices and the sizzling of food in a pan, I leaned against the wall, cradling my wounded side and taking a deep breath. It hurt, a lot. I was only taking the weak painkillers Dr. Cho had given me, none of the stronger medicines, and I was paying the price. My body ached all over and my stomach had begun to cramp from the lack of sustenance. After another moment of rest, I pushed off the wall and made my way into the kitchen. There was a large island bench lined on one side by stools and a dining table across from it. Natasha sat at the island talking to Cap, who was stirring something in a pot at the stove. A glance at the table revealed Vision and the Maximoff twins talking amongst themselves.

“Nads, you’re awake.” Nat beamed when she spotted me causing all eyes in the room to land on me. I raised an eyebrow at her, glancing at Steve when he turned to face me, a novelty apron with the words ‘kiss the chef’ inscribed across the front, wrapped around his body.

“I was wondering if you’d be joining us tonight.” He spoke up offering me a warm smile. “You must be hungry, I’m made some soup, I’m not much of a cook but it smells decent so...”

I ignored the gaze of the enhanced twins, particularly the remorseful look that Wanda gave me and the concerned one her brother supplied. “Nice apron,” I murmured, walking to sit at the end of the dining table as far from Wanda and Pietro as possible. A snort came from Nat and an exasperated sigh from Cap at my comment.

“It was the only one that was here, and I didn’t want to spill on myself.” He mumbled, his tone suggesting that I wasn’t the first to comment on his choice of cooking attire. A moment after I’d sat down there was a bowl of steaming soup placed before me by Steve, followed by a glass of ice water from Natasha beside two little white pills which I assumed were painkillers. I raised an incredulous eyebrow at the two of them as they sat on either side of the table with their own meals.

“What’s with the table service?” The two of them shrugged as if they weren’t sure what I’d meant. I sipped the water before scooting forward to begin eating when I realized I didn’t have a spoon, bracing my hands on the arms of the chair to push myself up. Yet, before my chair was even far enough from the table for me to stand a streak of blue and silver whizzed by. A spoon sitting in front of me before my mind even had time to comprehend what was happening. Glancing down the table to see Pietro seated, casually, as if he’d never left. My eyes narrowed at him from my seat before I glanced back to Nat and Steve who were barely touching their food as they pretended not to be focused on me. I picked up the spoon hesitantly. “Is this because I almost died?” I taunted, causing Natasha to shoot me a sharp glare.

“That’s not funny, Nadia.”

I put my hands up in surrender before beginning to eat. “Geez, tough crowd.” It was almost unbearable to know that I was being surveyed so heavily by the other people in the room, though there was something about it that prompted a warm feeling in my chest, not that I’d ever admit it. “This soup is actually very good; have you been taking cooking classes in your spare time?” I broke the silence, glancing at Steve.

“Actually, I found the recipe on the line.”

“The line?”

Nat bit back a grin, glancing at me. “The web.”

I gasped at that. “You used the internet, all by yourself.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Ha ha, very funny. Yes, I used the internet. I don’t particularly like it, but I must admit it was actually nice, this woman spoke about how the recipe was passed down from her great-grandmother.” Natasha and I shared a look at his admission, evidently, he had chosen to read the entire biography section of the recipe before making this soup.

The smile that sat across my face was hard to shake, try as I might. “Thank you for the food,” I spoke quietly as I continued eating. The overzealous service caretaking continued when I’d finished eating, my dish was cleared before I’d had the chance and my water was refilled. “Honestly, it was 1 bullet, for God’s sake. I am perfectly capable of walking to the bench.”

“Well, you don’t need to, I’m already doing it for you,” Natasha spoke, giving me a pointed look as she stacked the dishwasher. I rolled my head back to hang over the back of my seat in exasperation.

“You’re not going to take the medicine?” A voice piped up causing a wave of irritation to pass over me.

I lifted my head slowly, a lethal look in my eyes as they met his clear blue ones. “Whatever for? I am not in pain.”

“You took a bullet and shrapnel to the side but you’re not in any pain? Of course, this does not sound like you are trying to prove anything at all.”

A hush fell over the room at his response. When I spoke again my tone was glacial. “I thank you for your concern, but it takes a little more than 1 bullet and some itty-bitty pieces of metal to kill me.” He raised an eyebrow at me. “Perhaps next time the two of you decide to team up with a deranged metal man to kill the Avengers you will keep this in mind.” It was facetious and it was mean, but the words seemed to come from me before I had the chance to stop them.

Wanda swallowed heavily, her sullen gaze falling on the table then. My words silenced Pietro but did not have the intended effect. I’d anticipated anger from him, some nasty words in return but instead all I saw across his face was remorse; it sickened me.

After dinner, Natasha had insisted on showing me around the rest of the compound as I’d been too tired earlier to have a full tour. “That was a little harsh earlier, Nads.”

I asked her what she meant, though I heard my previous words echo in my mind the moment she’d spoken.

“I’m not going to stand here and defend the twins; they made a stupid choice and a lot of people ended up getting hurt.” I was silent as she spoke. “You know what? You’re right, Nadia. It is their fault.”

My eyes widened as I looked over at her, stopping abruptly in my track. “Wh-what? That is not what I said.”

“They killed those people, what happened in Sokovia is their fault.”

I shook my head, unable to believe her words. She did not believe that. “Natasha, what are you talking about?”

“I’m with you, Nads, they should feel terrible, all that blood is on their hands.”

“No, it isn’t!” The way my voice sounded surprized me; I’d never spoken to Nat like that. “It’s not their fault, they were just doing what they thought was right, they were trying to protect those people.” My chest rose and fell rapidly.

A slow, knowing smile spread across Natasha’s lips. The moment it appeared I realized what she was doing, recognized it. A scowl took over my face immediately. “Well, that was surprisingly easy.” I rolled my eyes at her, crossing my arms over my chest. “I honestly wasn’t sure if I’d break you, it’s never been that easy before, you must really care about them.”

I huffed exasperatedly, turning sharply on my heel, and walking away from the smug redhead. “Fuck off, honestly.”

Thank you so much for reading xx

#pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff x ofc #pietro maximoff x reader #pietro maximoff fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #pietro maximoff smut #aaron taylor johnson smut #aaron taylor johnson x reader #avengers fanfiction #aaron taylor johnson #aaron taylor johnson fanfiction #avengers smut #atj smut #marvel avengers #marvel smut #pietro smut

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mossymandibles · 1 year ago

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I have a 2 part question -

So those little baby looking mermaids seemed to be at least partially sentient, does that mean that the mermaids Kraw hunts are either fully or partially sentient?? I mean I understand that the morality of your universe was way different because of the doctor lady and the way those people from the van tried to tag Kraw while he was sleeping, but the implications for the mermaids made me like :0

The whole eat or be eaten thing when almost all creatures can be fully formed people is a very interesting concept and shows how harsh that universe is which is also very interesting to me.

I would also like to know what ISN'T a real thing in that universe. It seems like kind of a free for all in terms of magic/tech/creatures (which is actually my favorite kind of thing because that means there's hardly any limitations in terms of story telling), so I'm really wondering what's a thing that would not exist there. Like are there no aliens or gods, or even something super regular like parrots or something?

(Also sorry I'm very bad at remembering names so I'm sorry that I'm not naming things properly lol)

You’re good!

Well, I had it in my head that some mermaids evolved to be sentient while others are feral and technically aren’t ‘mermaids’ in a sense where they don’t appear very humanoid. Sentient merfolk have their own cultures/societies, which would be completely strange and foreign to those on land. It’s like a whole other world to them. Example is how merfolk all tend to either worship the supposed body that fell into Hellmouth, or they fear that it and the depths will ultimately call to them. Or how they worship the leviathans similar to saints or demigods.

I wanted the ocean to be even more so unknowable than it seems now, just because it’s almost impossible to trek and most islands don’t possess the technology to explore its depths. Most people don’t know about ‘merfolk cultures’ or how they work. There are plenty of weird cults assuming to know though. The Ladder seems to know the most of whats going on, and they’ve cut themselves off from the rest of the world aside from a few information leaks

Like how, even though I show/ talk about the Leviathans on here a lot, most people in Hallowed Carrion have never seen/don’t want to believe they exist, aside from the logs of Ladder Researchers. Seeing one in the modern day is especially rare. They’re usually out in the Hellmouth region which most sailors avoid sailing through. Or they’re curious ones, like the Syrinx.

As for Kraw’s job, he the main guy for taking care of the invasive feral mermaids/ sea creatures in general for Marrowtide, or he preforms ‘catch and release’. Kraw helps control populations, but he’s certainly more ‘sensitive’ to the ethics of hunting mermaids and which ones are just other folks trying to get by. He has his own motto “if it speaks throw it back”. He wasn’t always like that though and he feels guilt over it. He knows his way around them thanks to Mayv and was able to help Marrowtide regain control of their fishing business, as long as they stayed within their means.

Most sentient merms usually know to stay away from the boats if they have traps out, or they stay away from heavily populated islands altogether.

Of course some regions are known to not really give a shit whether merfolk are sentient or not, and usually poach certain rarer merfolk or creatures for organs, oils, scales etc, pretty much how whaling used to be. Kraw can just as easily become a victim of this in some places. Certain Chimereal organs have their uses.

Where I said there were a lot of prejudices against chimereals and where most people don’t know much about them, it would be easy to see someone like Kraw and think he was a dangerous creature if he wasn’t wearing clothes and was dragging a fish up on land on all fours, unfortunately.

As for what can or can’t exist, I don’t really know! Like most of the characters, or people irl today. We could discover anything tomorrow, really.

I’d like to think some regions closer to Hellmouth would be more open to unexplained phenomena happening. Or the regions surrounding the 2nd body would be having certain ‘thinning of the veil’ elements. I don’t really want it to seem like a ‘magical’ place by any means, more like what science can’t or hasn’t explained yet on an earth with new rules of nature so to speak as well as limited means of sharing knowledge. It’s kind of like how in the past the unexplained was accredited to being a miracle from gods or an omen etc. The scary part is when there’s no way to explain it. Examples in Hallowed Carrion is like how some people or places might see Kraw as a ‘demon from the depths’ or a sea monster, unlike Sylvaine who obviously knows he’s just some guy who wants to be a dad.

I’d say there are still regular species of the old world existing, maybe slightly evolved or completely evolved. Some might be rarer than others or completely extinct. Most of the landmasses are islands now so that would effect things obviously.

#sorry this was a lot #ask #lore #i feel like it makes sense but also worried it’s a jumbled mess #tl;dr some mermaids are like people while some merms are like chimps #or something like that #mermaid lore #hallowed carrion

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dailydemonspotlight · 5 months ago

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Arahabaki - Day 75

Race: Kunitsu

Arcana: Hermit

Alignment: Light-Chaos

July 19th, 2024

I'm sure that, when one thinks of the SMT or Persona franchise, one of the first demons/personas to pop up in their mind is that of a towering clay figure who reflects physical. A lot of Arahabaki is famously shrouded in mystery, and the clouds over this deity paint it in a confusing, albeit fascinating, light. First of all, for this DDS, I'd like to point you all to @yamayuandadu's fantastic breakdown of this demon. While I'm going to be using my own sources for the most part, a lot of the stuff in this is based roughly on her analysis. Feel free to give her a follow, even though me shouting her out is like a drop in the ocean.

Now, on to Arahabaki itself. Almost everything about this god is unknown- even its design, taken directly from a clay figurine known as a Dogū, seems only vaguely connected to the idea of Arahabaki itself through a book known as Tsugaru Soto Sangunshi, as discovered by the blog above. As described in the post, most of everything related to Tsugaru Soto Sangunshi is heavily fictionalized, as it was a series of forgeries from 'ancient Japanese history' that seems... mostly to connect to a conspiracy of ancient aliens, at least from what I can understand? That might just be the blog post I've linked, though, as information on these forgeries is scant; there are very few translations, and, in fact, as gone over in the post above, there was only one at the time of writing, and it wasn't very reliable.

According to Tsugaru Soto Sangunshi, and recanted by @yamayuandadu, Dogū were purported to represent an 'outlawed god' worshipped by the people of Tohoku, though, of course, this all comes down to nothing but a set of forgeries. A lot of information on Arahabaki can be hard to sift through, and while there are some sources, most of them are of questionable reliability. Sorry, Fandom wiki. As a matter of fact, it's believed that Arahabaki may not even exist, and after reading the aforementioned post, I'm starting to think that may be the case. Unfortunately, as someone who can't even read Japanese, many of the sources mentioned have been hard to definitely state and/or translate. It's times like this I wish I was bilingual... still, even if Arahabaki was a fake god, where did its concept originate from past TSS, and what even was it? As I said during my Alice DDS, I believe that everything must have a concretely traceable source, and besides, even if this god was just some guy's creative writing project, I still think it'd be worthwhile to look into.

A lot can be derived from Arahabaki's name- a theory purported in this article states that, as Habaki is based on the root Haha, meaning snake, Arahabaki may be based on some sort of snake deity, fitting in with its inherently rebellious nature. Other theories purported in the article state that it may have been enshrined for protection, to it possibly being a hitherto unknown god of iron production.

Needless to say, a lot is unknown about this deity, but I believe that, if it's truly a fictionalized god, it may be based on 'Amatsu-Mikaboshi,' a rebel god identified with the Pole Star of Venus and who struck out against the gods. However, this is a very far reach, and I genuinely think that one could identify Arahabaki with any sort of rebellious god.

The outlawing of worship is also of note, but from all of my research, I can't find anything about a deity in particular being outlawed- instead, almost everything I can find about it comes down to a general fear of foreigners, which wouldn't make any sense for a god who was apparently home-grown in Japan. Expanding on this point, it connects to the concept of sakoku, the isolationism of Edo period Japan that locked itself off from the rest of the world.

This brings me to, eventually, as all things do, Bungo Stray Dogs. I'm not kidding. To my knowledge, the manga references Arahabaki as a character in it, and this blog post that unfortunately uses a dead link as a source seems to paint a picture of Arahabaki as a god who was worshipped in 300 AD, but was eventually outlawed, as he represented rebellion. If this sounds like I'm talking in circles, it's because I am. To quote,

Arahabaki was worshipped all along Japan’s northern regions. He was the god of defiance and prowess and he was even used a figure for wars that would erupt. He soon began to become an evil figure in 300 AD, when a prince, Nagasunehiko started to worship him to the point where he became crazy, thinking the god was forever by his side. Being an enemy of the Emperor Jimmu, most of Japans’ people say this as a bad sign and started to think of Nagasunehiko and his god Arahabaki as a symbol of deceit and marked the god more of a devil than a sign of good luck. The god was said to look more like a creature than a human form. With large alien like eyes and a sturdy body made of strong iron, he looked more like a rock had come to life than one of flesh and blood.

I genuinely don't know if this source can be trusted, and I'll above all take the word of the blog post I keep referencing back to of it likely being a false god made up for a forgery so some guy could make millions quick, but it's a shame. I was so close to getting some sort of lead, and it ended up being a dead link... agony is the only word to describe it. I don't feel like I got much out of this, as my curiosity is still piqued... but alas, I've come to a dead end.

If any more of you have any possible sources or leads, please don't hesitate to come out with them. Unfortunately, given the relative obscurity of the god itself, and how infamous its own mystery is... I doubt I'll get any major breakthroughs any time soon. Huge thank you to @yamayuandadu and @bsd-bibliophile for the work that went into this god. Alas, I get out with only empty pockets. As for how it's portrayed in SMT, it's an incredibly accurate depiction of a Dogū- given the purported connection between Arahabaki and Dogū's, it makes sense that they would take inspiration from the clay figures representing Japanese deities, to say the least.

Overall, though, I wish I had more to go over here, but the lack of primary sources and revelations of fraud give light only to disappointment. Alas. At least it was fun to research!

#shin megami tensei #smt #megaten #persona #daily #good lord i had no idea what i was getting into with this one #bungo stray dogs #arahabaki

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pineappleciders · 5 months ago

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one of our ferrets died today. i wasn't close with him and didn't get to bond with him much in recent years, but i still have so many memories of avicii and how mischievous he was. nobody knows how old he is as he was a rescue but it's rather clear he passed of old age. he stopped eating, has been slowing down and getting skinnier. though he was still just as curious through his last days. him and the two other ferrets belong to my brother. originally it was avicii and (what was assumed to be his brother), and the other ferret passed in my brothers arms. i had never seen him cry before that. i don't have a great relationship with my brother but it felt so viscerally uncomfortable and painful to watch someone wallow in the sorrow of losing their pet. tomorrow him and his friends will come over and we will have a funeral.

death feels like something that creeps up into your life slowly. i have never lost anyone close to me, only relatives and animals, so i don't know the pain of it but i have seen it . my baby cousin died very young and i wasn't around to see her but i can see the pain in my parent's eyes when they mention her. i could hear the cries over the phone when my sisters puppy died. my grandmother, who stayed solemnly gentle and kind as she handed me her mother's wallet that she wanted me to have, and all the people that sobbed at her funeral while i stood awkwardly with tears, mourning a person i remember meeting once

the worst experience with death i had was when our rabbits all had babies over a short period of time. so many baby bunnies died and i remember waking up to my brother and his girlfriend crying as they put daisy's body in my hands. she was so tiny, and had a disability that made her head essentially stuck looking upwards. she would trip and fall everywhere but she was just as hoppy and curious as the other buns. i remember burying every single one of the babies and most of their names

and it aches me to think of those who have it worse. i am so lucky to have little grief in my life, to think of my moms tumor, my dads shingles, my sisters car accidents and how many terrible things we avoided to be standing here alive today. but right now there are so many people dying, losing their parents and children and siblings and lovers and pets and homes

so today, i'm grateful i have privilege others don't. i'm grateful i have a house with a family and don't have to worry about running out of food or water. i'm grateful i have internet and the free speech to post whatever i want. i regret not spending more time with avicii, that seems to be a common theme in grief is regret. although in his last days, my dad would bring him around the house to get pets and love and to sniff. so i'm happy he got extra care in his last days, and hopefully he's with his brother now

just wanted to rant a bit ab death since it's such a foreign concept to me still and i can't properly express the strangeness that comes with the feeling of grief. it feels empty, and you see things in black and white, and you want to cry but you just can't??

anywho i hope my brother and parents can cope with this, i know they are a lot closer to avicii than i was. thx for reading

#pineapple rants #rant #pineappleciders #death #grief

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crystaltoa · 1 year ago

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With those tid-bits about Onu-Metru, that explains why Whenua is weird among onu-matoran. Many of those who work in the Archives don't see it as a job and would never leave if they could (although there's probably some exaggeration there). Whenua loves the Archives, but he wants to retire from being an Archivist. He sees it as an unwanted duty.

I can see that potentially being the case. Whenua avoids thinking about the future so he may never really have imagined what kind of life he would want if he were to take a different career path ('retirement' as we know it would be a foreign concept to Matoran, but many of them yearned for something other than their current job).

Maybe, like many Matoran who eventually become Toa, he was curious about what the world outside the archives was really like, or wondered what it would be like looking after and studying live Rahi like Matoro instead of just stashing them in stasis.

Another thing that might separate Whenua from his peers is if we take that headcanon that he is quite a bit older than the average Onu-Matoran due to their high mortality rate. He's not old compared to the Matoran population in general, but he's outlived a lot of colleagues. He's seen dozens, possibly hundreds of archivists die or go mad from the day to day hazards they face. He doesn't really get attached to people any more when he doesn't think they'll be around for long. (Look at how quickly he accepts that Nokama is going to die from poisoning in Maze of Shadows. No other stages of grief, just grim acceptance. He's seen this before and believes there's nothing to be done except make her last moments comfortable.)

It's also fairly unusual for a Matoran to remember as many traumatic events as Whenua does given that their usual response to severe trauma is amnesia. Perhaps the Matoran brain retains these things when that knowledge is key to one's survival. Which, Whenua very much believed his knowledge of the past was. Those other guys aren't around to learn from their mistakes, but Whenua certainly can.

As you say, he did love the archives though. He seemed most happy and at home when showing people around and explaining about the exhibits (Even Nuju didn't have the heart to be annoyed with him for that). But you can love something while also knowing in your heart that it's not a healthy environment and it's slowly destroying you. I imagine that feeling that one's job or duty is an unwanted burden is a source of guilt and shame for Matoran, so I doubt he'd ever tell anyone he was feeling that way.

It must have been an odd feeling coming back to Onu-Metru as a Turaga and seeing the place he has many fond memories of, but was also the site of a lot of pain and trauma. And then there's Dume expecting the Onu-Matoran to get back to work and for things to be exactly how they were before. But Whenua has changed too much as a person for that to seem acceptable to him any more, and his challenge now is how to keep Metru Nui running without the unnecessary sacrifice of so many Matoran's lives and wellbeing. And even the keeping of Rahi in stasis may have seemed wrong to him after learning to live in harmony with many of them on Mata Nui. It would have been interesting to see how different each Metru was after the return due to the experiences of the Matoran and Turaga on the island having changed their worldview so much.

#i love whenua so much *proceeds to beat him savagely with the Whump Stick*#bionicle #whenua

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whatudowhennooneseesyou · 1 year ago

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I've been to Korea a few times and lived there for a few months at one time. That country does have a special place in my heart and I love many aspects of it. Outside of the big cities, the nature is beautiful, people are a bit blunt but they're kind and they help you if you need it. They don't expect you as a foreigner to get there and know all their norms and their language (I had the opposite experience in Japan 👀) and they're usually excited as long as you're respectful. However. A lot of guys are extremely aggressive in their advances, they think every non Asian woman who ends up there wants to fuck and they have a hard time understanding NO. If you do go out to the bar/club, you absolutely need to be careful with men (as you would anywhere else bc the world is a nightmare but I find men in SK more aggressive than some other places). The body shaming is very real too nejdiwiw. I'm not fat nor skinny but over there I felt like a whale the whole time 💀 you do need to have thick skin over there and not expect the perfect paradise many k pop fans seem to think they're about to find. Depending on how you approach it, it can be a wonderful time or hell on earth. I wouldn't go live there permanently but I go back every couple of years and I always love my time there.

Hello @escapetheshark and thank you for providing your insights, it is expensive to travel anywhere outside of Australia so I wouldn't be going to South Korea for awhile but my high school had a 'sister school' with South Korea and 5 of our students would go over there.

This was in 2016 and it cost 10K for them to go for 9 days so Idk how much the price would be now.

You seem very worldly lived and are you European? How did you afford to go these places? I suppose airfare might be different if you live closer haha.

I have heard that A LOT online about issues of consent and I don't know if this true, I hope but but I remember reading an article about how if a guy offers to buy you a drink in Japan and you accept, then you're technically giving consent???

I see so many Tiktoks about the experiences women have in Hongdae and Gangnam and the DVD rooms and love hotels.

I've heard SO much about the body shaming and it's kinda scared me not gonna lie, I'm 5'7 and 108 kgs so I just know that none of the clothes would fit me and I'd stand out.

Sorry, I lost focused because I'm rewatching one of Channie's Room lives on Youtube and he was talking about how Aussies barely pronounce anything properly and I was like- He has a point.

I've always wondered how Chris was able to balance the EXTREME differences of South Korean and Australian cultural norms in his life.

The age thing still confuses me because in Australia, if you're a year younger than someone, you are treated the same age and people will say '1 year? That's nothing'.

Whereas in South Korea, you can't be 'friends' with anyone that's not born in the same year as you and that's such a confusing concept for me because even though I was born in '98 and Chris was born in '97, I view both of us as being the same age.

So, it's interesting. I've learnt a lot and It's nice to be expanding my knowledge on different ways of living.

Thank you for sending in your insight!

#answered ask #moot #slumber party with ruby

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crowleys-bentley-and-plants · 11 months ago

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hi!! I'm very curious what 'Only human' is about? <3

Hii im so glad you asked!!

The idea is as follows:

What if Crowley lost his memory soon after he got to Earth? What if he now thinks he's an immortal human? What if having no memories is the only thing keeping heaven and hell away from him? What if Aziraphale didn't dare to let Crowley see him for fear of his memories returning? In the present day, Crowley is a private detective, trying to balance putting up with everyone's bullshit and his recurring dream about an angel he made up to ignore his own loneliness. But the dream is getting more intense. And then he finds out the angel is not a figment of his imagination. Although he doesn't look like an angel, just a human, a bookseller of all things. Things are stirring under the surface and people are starting to disappear. Will Crowley be able to find them in time? More importantly, will Crowley be able to stop the apocalypse he doesn't know is coming?

The fic is from Crowley's pov and the chapters are split into present day (with the looming apocalypse) and flashbacks of Crowley through the ages. I really love that i can include flashbacks because i love to explore the concept of immortality and how Crowley would deal with it (however i was starting to regret it a bit because i am so bad at history lmao). But this fic has a LOT of things lol, from awkward encounters between Crowley and Aziraphale to the four horsemen, to the actual apocalypse, to Crowley having a cat named Felis (which personally i think is a very funny name because it's not only a constellation (Crolwey loves stars) but it also literally means 'cat' in Latin lol).

Here's a little (long) snippet from the flashback of chapter four which details the moment Crowley lost his memories:)

Darkness. Then light. All stories start like that, don’t they? Even the oldest one. A flick of a hand, a whispered phrase, and light melts the darkness away, like a radiant dawn dispelling the remnants of the night.

It would be a comfort to know that this is how it felt when Crowley first awoke. His eyes slowly blinking open, like a dormant star awakening in the vastness of space. His hands finding the ground beneath him, pulling him up so that he stood amidst a green meadow, bathed in the gentle glow of a dreamy dawn.

It would be a comfort, but alas, some stories are not meant for comfort. Some stories, it seems, are destined to be penned with a more profound ink—an ink tinted with the gravity of sacrifice, etched in blood rather than the soothing embrace of ease.

And so, Crowley awoke, not to the warmth of the dawn but to the cool embrace of the night. His eyes did not blink slowly open, but flashed wide as he was thrust into a foreign world. His hands, instead of finding the familiar ground beneath him, gripped onto cold, uneven surfaces. The darkness that clung to him was not the gentle prelude to light; it was a shroud, an inky abyss that wrapped around him like a suffocating cloak.

Crowley woke with a start, gasping for breath. It was like an invisible hand was pressing his throat shut, and his breath came in little puffs. He was outside, and darkness stretched everywhere he looked, not even a moon above him to illuminate his surroundings. It was almost like the stars were hiding too, like they were too afraid of Crowley. It was a stupid thought, he knew that, but every cell in his body was screaming that something was wrong, that he was wrong. Wrong about what? He didn’t know. He didn’t know where he was. He didn’t know how he got there. Hell, the list of things he did know was rather short.

Still, lists made him calmer, and he tried to make one now of the things he did know.

1. Lists made him calmer. Why? He didn’t know. Move on. Move on.

2. His name was Crowley. What a peculiar name. What was his last name, though? He couldn’t remember.

3. He was lying on the ground, on cold stones, and it was anything but comfortable, but his whole body was aching, and he didn’t have the strength to get up.

4. It was night. Or at least, he thought it was, because he assumed he was outside. Why did he assume that? He didn’t know.

5. He wasn’t hurt, at least, he wasn’t bleeding. Again, he didn’t know for sure, but he would’ve felt it, right?

6. He was tired. So, so tired. His mind felt foggy, memories slipping through his grasp like sand. If you could even call them memories.

Panic settled inside him. Why couldn’t he remember anything? But sleep was tugging at his being, making it so hard to focus. A dream, or perhaps a memory, surfaced—a glimpse of a familiar figure or a place he felt he should recognize. Yet, the more he tried to grasp these threads, the more they slipped away, leaving him in a disorienting state of uncertainty.

With a sigh, he added another point to his mental list:

7. He needed to find answers.

The last thing he saw before sleep took him was a distant star, or maybe a comet, flashing across the night sky.

it's a very rough first draft lol and the thing is, the flashbacks aren't even in chronological order (chapter three for example has a flashback to the 1920s lol) which is relevant for the plot (because with every flashback you kind of unravel another puzzle piece yk) but it's also bugging me a bit because i need to write a story in chronological order lol idk so this fic is really making me come out of my comfort zone, but i am very exited about it!!

#asksks #:)#Only Human

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proceduralpassion · 2 years ago

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More Than A Woman | Chapter 01

A/N: Chapter one, here we go! Lmk if you wanna be added to the taglist...

WC: 1.5K

“Hi, Mr. Reyes. We spoke on the phone.” Her statement came out more like a question because Desi wasn’t so sure he’d even remember. He sounded like a ghost when they’d first talked and even as he walked into her office, his mind seemed elsewhere. His handshake was robotic and his eyes were vacant.

They both sat down across from each other.

Desi looked at him for a moment, taking in the anguish and darkness that emanated from him.

“So how’s this go?”, he gestured between himself and the school’s psychologist, “He ain’t in trouble, is he?”

Desi shook her head immediately, “Oh, no no. This is more so a check-in, if anything. I was alerted of recent circumstances, Santi’s mother passing away… That’s a tough thing for anyone to go through, much less a six year old.”

To acknowledge her comment, he absentmindedly nodded his head. Tough thing to go through. That was the fucking understatement of the year, he thought to himself. A moment passed and Angel realized he should speak.

“Yeah, we split, but kinda got good with the co-parenting thing. He mostly lived with her, though. I’m sure it’s been a lot for him.”

And because he hasn’t really been the most observant father, Angel kept his mouth shut about whether he saw any signs to worry about when it came to his son. That was okay, though, because Desi Maduro, Ed.S. had been attentive enough for the both of them. She had already had several conversations with the young boy and found he was surprisingly talkative for a kid who mostly stuck to himself in the classroom and playground.

“Yeah, he mentioned he would spend his weekends with you,” Desi spoke with a comforting smile. She let a pause hit the air before continuing, “Mr. Reyes, you have a resilient, intelligent, and sweet young boy. And like I said, while I’m not necessarily worried for him, I’d really like to encourage you to engage yourself more with him. Maybe start an open dialogue at home, so that he feels comfortable whenever he wants to share something-”

“My son is fine,” he interrupted sharply. His face was a mix of confusion and defensiveness as he looked at her.

Not wanting this conversation derailed sideways, she immediately conceded, “Of course! I have no doubt. I just figured I could give you a few things to look out for in the case should they arise. Grief is not as linear as one might think it is, so even if Santi seems fine, we still want to keep a close eye on him-”

“Explain that.” He interrupted again. At the look of uncertainty on her face, he prompted, “What you said before, that shit about an open dialogue and shit.. What did you mean?”

His tone was less aggressive this time and he even seemed a bit embarrassed, shy. The outburst was probably a reactionary thing, more than likely something culminating from his own grief from losing his child’s mother. But now, he seemed actually intent on listening and comprehending the foreign concept.

Desi smiled again, hoping she conveyed softness and understanding. “This is a whirlwind of a time for a young child. Kids thrive on stability and structure. A big part of that is gone now that Stephanie is no longer here. Even though he may still be too young to grasp the concept of death, it can still be traumatizing for a child to have someone in their life for as long as they can remember and then one day that person is no longer there. And you’d be surprised at the way kids can act out, even at his age. Now, again, Santiago hasn’t gotten into any trouble or displayed any behavior of concern, but we want to be proactive. He needs people that he can express his emotions to. Emotions that can be super big for such a small body. Being that you’re now his primary caretaker, it makes sense that that person should be you. Along with making sure you’re establishing a routine for him, you should also talk with him, be affectionate with him… I know you’re probably dealing with this loss yourself. It’s okay for him to know that you’re sad, too.”

Angel scoffed to himself. He focused hard to take in every word that she said and he couldn’t help but get more and more overwhelmed as she continued to go on. He didn’t know anything about putting together a daily routine; school was Santi’s fill of that while everyday at home could be unpredictable based on what the MC demanded of Angel at the moment. And affectionate? He shook his head to himself knowing he hadn’t been much of that lately. Disappointment filled his veins. If anything, Santi needed more affection now than ever, but Angel hadn’t been paying close enough attention to that.

Desi watched the various emotions flash over his face and felt for him. He didn’t seem to be the kind who purposefully distanced himself from his son. He’d probably been wrapped up in his own grief while also carrying on with life. Of course, his child should come first, but she could see the remorse on his face as he came to some realizations.

After a moment, she allayed, “You don’t have to have all the answers. Sometimes, the best thing you can do is just listen.”

Angel nodded again, this time trying to put forth more effort into actually listening.

“What does he say? You’ve talked to him, right? So, what does he say? What does he talk about?” Angel inquired curiously. He winced as he prepared to hear her reply, not ready to know of some of the pain his son’s been feeling.

“Well, it was obviously a very shocking thing to him, at first. He talked about how scary the funeral was,” Angel shook his head in suffering, knowing that he hadn’t even picked up on Santi’s fear. He wouldn’t have ever forced him to go if he knew the whole thing scared him. He harshly cursed himself, knowing that he potentially traumatized his son even further. Desi continued, politely ignoring his agony, “I think he’s only just now coming to terms that his mom is gone for good. Of course, I can see he still has moments where a particular emotion may spring up, but he’s not more or less withdrawn in class according to his teacher.”

Again, Angel took the time to try and absorb the counselor’s words and what this all meant. He was, for sure, out of his depth and didn’t know where to start in attempting to be a more active parent.

“I know that this is hard for both of you, but I think that establishing a routine and adding some structure to Santi’s will be beneficial for the both of you. Soon enough, you’re gonna have to learn how to help Santi have a life without his mother. Not so that he forgets her, but so that he knows how to move on and keep the memory of his mom alive.”

But how? Angel thought to himself.

And then he vocalized it.

“How do I do that?”

“Try. Obviously, it’s more to it than that, but don’t stop making an effort no matter how hard it is. Santi might not feel 100% comfortable sharing his feelings with you all the time, but the best thing you can do is to never stop trying. Mr. Reyes, this isn’t going to be a cake walk. But he’s young and I see a loving father sitting in front of me. That’s the most important thing.”

Angel smiled a little at that.

“And you’re sure he’s doing fine considering?”

“Yes. There may be little outbursts or behavioral changes as time passes, but there’s nothing that’s cause for concern right now,” she comforted. And then she added, “Try to put together a daily schedule for him to follow. Something fun to do when he gets home. And then homework time. Dinner and a bath. Simple things just to give him a little more normalcy.”

“Thank you,” He stood from his seat and nodded appreciatively at her. Turning towards the door, he adjusted his kutte and stretched out his long legs. Before he turned completely away, she handed him a post-it with her contact information on it and gestured to walk him out the door.

“You’re welcome. I really appreciate you taking the time to talk with me, Mr. Reyes. Please, I’d really love for us to keep in contact so we can manage Santi’s progress together.”

Angel nodded again, completely serious about trying to maintain contact with her.

He wouldn’t keep this up anymore, it was time for him to step up and be the parent that Santi needed.

“It was nice to meet you, Mr. Reyes. Have a good day!”

Angel took a final glance back at her as he walked out the school’s main exit. Her braids were wrapped up into a messy bun and a few of them fell around the frame of her face. She bid him off with a final, friendly smile and turned back towards her office.

Tagging: @drabbles-mc @mijagif

#mayans mc #angel reyes #angel reyes x oc #angel reyes x black!oc #mtaw fic #c: destiny maduro

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