#last night over dinner he told me about his intense fascination with water flow and how it’s impacted by dams

[sudsyjellyfish]

Went down a mini research rabbit hole with my dad about the history of Eastern Catholics and how their practices differ from Roman Catholics (which I was raised as). God I love being neurodivergent together

[feverdancing]

When it rains we run, okay? chapter three.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Four

Nene’s skin crawled as she focused her tired gaze on the window beside her. The sky was still blanketed with thick clouds; fog covered the city lazily weighed down.

Her head was still clouded from last night’s episode. Her body clung to exhaustion, her eyelids refusing to open further than halfway.

Hanako was still working, and he would be until 4. Nene wasn’t sure what he did for work; he always danced around the subject, hiding, giving vague descriptions that could fit most jobs.

Nene never pushed. Hanako would tell her when he was ready.

He trusts her,

He’s always been like this, ever since they were children in middle school.

Amane’s eyes shifted, looking anywhere but her when she asked what he was reading, “Ah, it’s just something I’m interested in, nothing fascinating,”

She never got a direct answer from him… aside from when he was helping her with her studies, but even then, he made her solve it for herself.

Today was a good day.

Nene went to work. She works at a small magazine place; thankfully, they allowed her name to be anonymous. Her boss didn’t care about who she was, made a small comment about how her parents must be supernatural fanatics to name their child such a weird thing, then promptly hired her; her writing was good, persuasive.

Nene has always been persuasive. It’s how Amane still likes her.

Nene went home; she watched TV. She listened to music. The rain didn’t fall.

She’s going to her former teacher’s, Tsuchigomori’s, house for dinner.

Tsuchigomori… that man… knows way too much, for no one saying anything.

He’s cutthroat. As long as Nene and Hanako stay in line, out of sight, he won’t report them. When he found them in the alleyway near the school, he seemed to have already known what she had done.

Her former teacher hid them, keeping a close eye on them. He claimed that he needed to keep tabs on the two of them so they don’t “mess anything else up.”

He’s always been such a strange teacher. He never seemed to care, always distant and annoyed, but when she got injured from Him , Tsuchigomori always was there, having her sit in a classroom, as he tended to her injuries. He prodded for information... For some reason, Nene felt he already knew.

He helped them hide their identities. Gave them a place to hide. But, unfortunately, it seems Nene and Hanako will be in his debt for a long time.

He’s going to report them eventually.

Nene jolts, opening her eyes to look at the time on her phone. Then, she starts to doze off.

It was noon; maybe she could sleep until Hanako get’s off work. Her body seemed to agree, ready to collapse any moment.

She unlocks her phone and sets the alarm for 3:45. Placing it on the table, Nene decides she is too sleepy to walk to her bedroom. Slumping against the old sofa, she tugs her sweater sleeves and closes her eyes, letting sleep consume her consciousness.

Nene had a kitchen knife in her bag.

She was on edge from all the true crime she was watching, well, that and the spike of disappearances recently.

No money to buy a pocket knife or defense weapon. Sure, knives weren’t allowed on the school campus, but if Nene didn’t tell anyone, she wouldn’t get into trouble.

She remembers clearly how the tall male seized up when she stabbed him.

Her eyes wide, her breath shallow, the ringing in her ears when he screamed. Her arm pulling the knife out and driving it back in.

He fell. Nene fell on top of him, raising her arm.

Stabbing over and over, she gasped for air, choking and sobbing violently.

Nene was above him, shaking as she looked into his dead eyes. He looked like he was terrified, in excruciating pain.  

Mokke didn’t feel the guilt. After what he did, he deserves this.

Nene was afraid. Why didn’t he just listen? Why did it have to come to this? Why didn’t he stop? She didn’t want to kill him. He shouldn’t have died.

She sat on her knees above him. Staring at her hands on the knife.

Gasping, she lets go, backing off of him, slamming herself into the wall behind her, staring at the corpse with horror.

A knock on the bathroom entrance is what breaks her intense gaze.

Buzz

Buzz

Nene’s face was wet as she reached for her phone. Her alarm had gone off.

She groaned, sliding her thumb over what she believed was the alarm. Using the sleeve on her shirt to wipe the tears from her face.

The apartment was silent. Only the sound of light rain hitting the building and cars moving below could be heard.

Nene sits up slowly, taking note of the pain in her neck.

Inhale,

She stares at the phone in her hand, watching the screen darken, then turning black.

Hanako shouldn’t be here for another 30 minutes…

Exhale.

Nene set the phone on the table and looked towards the window.

At least the rain wasn’t that bad.

Nene sighs, looking down to the coffee table in front of her,

She didn’t feel right, the exhaustion still weighing heavily on her. She tugs on her sleeves, wrapping her arms around herself, listening to the rain let up, slowly dissipating.

Inhale.

A small break of rain. It wouldn’t last long. The forecast states thunderstorms and heavy rain for the next week.

Exhale.

Nene decided it’d be best to stretch, feeling the desire to sleep grow stronger the longer she sits there.

A loud yawn comes from her as she raises her arms above her head and arches her back.

Moving towards the kitchen, Nene briefly glances at the time on the microwave and opens a cupboard for a glass. She reaches for one, standing on her toes to grab it. Then, slowly closing it, she goes over her options for a drink.

Water, milk, coffee, Nene was almost sure they had some juice in there, but she wasn’t sure. She could put her ice in the coffee… but she would have to make a pot, which she didn’t want to do…

Nene turns the facet on, shoving her glass underneath the water.

Water. That’s what she needed.

Watching it fill up, Nene lets it overfill, flowing onto her hand before splashing into the sink. She blinks, turning it off, and pours some of the water out, and taking a sip of it.

It felt refreshing, cool against her dry throat.

Nene relishes in the silence, no rain, no talking. She moves back into the living room, sitting at the couch once again, this time, her exhaustion barely noticeable.

She sits, sipping on her water until Hanako comes home.

He was late, unusual even for him. Nene’s glass held only a few drops of water.

Hanako was out of breath as he walked in, quickly shutting the door behind him. He smiled at Nene, with a hello, before making his way into their room.

Nene blinked. Hanako has never not properly said his hello’s to her.

She set the glass onto the coffee table and made her way into their shared room. She peeked into seeing Hanako changing.

“Are you okay?” Nene asks quietly, making him stop his movement, looking over to her.

Hanako stares, his amber eyes gazing deeply into her as if gauging her motive. He smiled,

“Sorry, I thought I should get ready to leave right now since we might be late to the old man’s place,”

“That doesn’t answer my question.” Nene was used to him evading questions, but it was seriously getting on her nerves.

“We’re going to be late, Mokke .” Hanako’s response ended this conversation. For now.

Nene sighs and shakes her head to him, disappointed.

“I don’t like it when you push me out, Hanako .” Manipulation, to get her way, she wanted answers. Tears fill her eyes, “Don’t you trust me? What did I do wrong?”

Amane seems to respond accordingly, his face twisting up into panic as he let go of the shirt he was buttoning up, waving his handing trying to calm her down.

“Mokke, I do trust you, believe me, I’ll tell you after dinner, please don’t cry,” Amane pleads with her, holding her hands in his.

“Promise?” Nene whispers to him, pulling one of her hands away to hold up a pinky, staring into his eyes, her ruby eyes wide and glassy, “ Please, ”

Hanako breaks shakily, connecting their pinky fingers together, “ Promise .”

Nene closes her eyes tightly, leaning into him.

“We need to get ready, starlight,” Hanako says softly.

Nene nods, leaning back and wiping her tears.

She was going to get answers.

Nene shuffles to the closet and opens it, staring at the clothes inside. She listens to Hanako button up his shirt.

She tugged on a cream-colored buttoned blouse and reached for a burgundy skirt.

Slowly she removes her clothes. She knows Hanako turns around regardless of whether or not she wants him to and slips on the items she pulled.

“Hanako?” She looks to him, “Could you grab my bag for me? And shut the blinds? I need to brush my hair,”

Hanako nods, doing as he was told.

Walking into the bathroom, she stares at herself in the mirror. Nene reaches for a brush and starts making her way through the knots she got while sleeping. She pauses,

Ao-chan always brushed her hair during break since Nene always overslept.

Nene grits her teeth, pulling her hair into a low bun. Quickly, she shoves the brush back onto the counter, glaring at it, and leaves the bathroom.

Hanako was slipping his shoes on, looking over to her with her bag in his hand,

“Are you ready?” She nods.

He helps her put her shoes on, and they leave, Hanako locking the door behind them,

“I put your phone in your bag,” Hanako informs her,

“I forgot about grabbing it,” Heat rushes to her cheeks, “Thank you Hanako-kun,” A smile on her face was enough of thanks to him, but she needs to make sure he knows he’s appreciated.

Hanako smiles back, grabbing her hand and pulling her along as they make their way to the elevator.

The walk there was nice. Neither Nene nor Hanako owned a car, let alone had a license to drive one. The clouds had broken up to let the setting sunshine down on the city.

Purple and orange hues filled the clouds, forming something akin to a painting. It was pretty, yet the only thing Nene felt looking at it was a bitter melancholy. The wet sidewalks glowed, reflecting the sun, making the world around them alive.

Something that made Nene uneasy was the dark clouds looming in the west.

The streets were empty, it was getting late, most people had gone home, to their families, or were having dinner.

They turn a street, spotting the familiar old but fancy-looking apartment. Hanako’s hand on hers seemed to tighten, giving her a soft squeeze as they made their way inside.

Instead of the elevator, they use the old narrow stairs.

The two arrive on the teacher’s floor up seven flights of stairs, completely out of breath. Nene laughs in between breaths, “Hanako-” She gasps slightly, “We should’ve used the elevator,” Hanako joins in on her laughter.

They stand there for a few moments, catching their breaths, composing themselves.

Hanko and Nene arrive at the door that has 705 engraved on  a golden plate  and knock.

Nene heard shuffling behind the door as Tsuchigomori unlocked it.

Right on cue, Tsuchigomori opens the door, glaring at the two young adults.

“You’re late.” He hisses out.

Hanako laughs lightly, rubbing the back of his neck, his smile slightly nervous,

“Sorry! Got caught up in traffic, you know?”

“You don’t have a car.”

“Oh right…” Hanako pauses, looking towards Nene, looking for an excuse. His gaze focuses on her before looking back at Tsuchigomori with a boyish grin, “...Got caught up looking at the sky, it’s a lovely sunset,”

Nene and Tsuchigomori both stare at him with a deadpan look.

“Tsuchigomori-sama, We’re sorry to be late; Hanako-kun got home later than usual.” Nene softly says, bowing deeply, her hands folding in front of her.

Tsuchigomori raises a hand dismissively, opening the door wider, and motions them in,

“Just don’t let it happen again.”

Hanako and Nene stepped into the apartment, sliding their coats and shoes off.

Tsuchigomori went towards the kitchen, presumably cooking still.

“You two can sit at the dining table. I’ll be out with the food in a minute.

Nene sucks in a breath.

Now they had to report their month to him.

Hanako was going to tell the truth, Nene was going to make sure of it.

[lord-tathamet]

Dinner Plans

A short story almost two years of age, that I once wrote for a university class. Found it again, dusted it off, polished it slightly, but let it retain that little bit of amateurish writing simply to marvel at how far I’ve come with my writing ever since. 

Enjoy. 

For the fifth time in the last two hours did the man with the moustache and sunglasses look up from his research and look at the face of the clock of the broken church. He scowled beneath the moustache, but forced himself to look at it regardless.

4:18 pm.

They were late, as per usual. He shook his head and focused back on his literature. He made the mental note to have a number of alarm clocks be send to each of them for next time. Flatteringly Photoshopped pictures of the Mexican coast reflected in his sunglasses while his eyes skimmed through the brochure's whimsical descriptions of the rich culture of its indigenous people and beautiful beaches.  He skipped through a couple of pages until he found what he was looking for. A decidedly too sharply fined and too pale fingernail stabbed into the page displaying the photograph of an ancient, grey pyramid.

The man sitting behind the shining aluminium table was tall, narrow and sharply dressed: a suit jacket with bloodstone cufflinks, black suit-pants, a clean white shirt only slightly wrinkled and  two buttons open. His legs ended in a pair of shiny, pointy shoes. His face was stern and angular, with pronounced cheekbones and a pointed chin. Bushy eyebrows sat above the pair of sunglasses that protected his eyes against the sun, and a long white moustache grew beneath the hooked nose which gave his appearance a certain roguish charm. A wavy mane of grey-white hair surrounded his face and hid the pointed tips of his ears, giving him certain qualities akin to an old lion. It was difficult to clearly guess his age, but anyone briefly passing by and glancing at him would take him for a very spry looking gentleman in his mid-fifties.

Leaning in on his read, the man with the white moustache made a few notes on a small block of paper. The pen he used was black, ornamented with silver filigree and absurdly expensive, as was the ink held within. Next to the note pad stood an untouched and by now cold cup of coffee, its content as pitch-black as a dark winter night and reflecting the bright afternoon sun above.  Disgusting in taste and disgustingly cheap in comparison, but he needed the table, and none of the waiters would bother him as long as he had at least one beverage in front of him, as maligned and untouched it was.

Cars rolled by exhuming grey fumes, the nearby fountain shot water into the air and people passed his table. Most of them in casual summer clothes, sundresses and cargo pants and shirts and some of them even with hats to gain some shade. For a moment, the man looked up from his notes and allowed himself a brief indulgence – the eyes behind the sunglasses darted from one healthy neck to another. A small, wolfish smile parted the pale lips and if there had been anyone to pay close attention, they would have gained a brief glance at his very pointed, very sharp and unusually long canines.

“Good afternoon, count.”

The man in the white moustache begrudgingly pulled his eyes away from his current mark – a lovely Turkish woman with streaming black hair that was climbing the stairs around the fountain just a shy dozen feet from his table, close enough for him to smell the sweet mixture of blood and perfume she exhumed – and he turned to the youth that had seated herself opposite of him, soundless and sudden as if she had appeared out of the thin air.

“And to you, countess. You are looking lively as always.”

She seemed young enough to be his granddaughter, though no one within their right mind would have thought to imagine a superficial familiarity between the two. A girl of fourteen years, with a healthy, rosy complexion and flowing, lush dark hair that curled at her shoulders, the sunshine twisting golden shimmers into its waves. Large doe-like eyes that projected innocence and hid a vicious intellect, a petite body that suggested fragility and cloaked the strength to bend iron bars as if they were straws. She was in white, of course she was, a pretty, knee-length dress and a white handbag in her lap and with her hands folded atop of it. The lid of her bag, the man with the moustache noted with a mild amusement, was riddled with numerous, colourful stickers and badges, and around her wrists hung several loops and bands of tiny gemstones like rainbow wreaths.

They were the only change about her since their last meeting.

“Thank you. My sincere apologies, there was an unfortunate delay with the train between Kassel and Hannover.” She shook her head. “More than five centuries since the invention of rail transport and still a simple thing like an open door may stall a train's journey for almost an entire fifteen minutes.”

She nodded at the travel brochure still open in front of him. “Are you already planning your next journey? I thought you would stay in Berlin a little while longer.”

“I am a traveller at heart, milady. Although my beloved home will always be in the heart of Europe, the other continents do possess their own charming allure,” he replied, setting the brochure and note block aside. “And besides, it has been a while since I have last visited the Americas. There must be much exciting game to be hunted there.”

“Always about excitement, is that the reason you wanted us all to meet here of all places?” The countess nudged her chin toward the broken church spire in the background, a disgusted sneer cracking her face. “And mirroring glass everywhere around us. One of these days, your thrill-seeking hunts might cost you your life.”

“How would the youth of your seeming generation say? No risk, no fun.” The count let his eyes wander around the square for a moment. “Where is Laura? The two of you were practically bound at the hip when we last met.”

The young-seeming woman stiffened in her seat. The snarl dissolved into a very neutral, very calm expression that seemed like it was carved from marble. “Laura is... no longer with us.”

A single eyebrow rose, but otherwise the count's face remained unmoved. “Hunters?

“No.” There was a subtle tremble of her lip, the count noted, before she continued: “She could no longer bear it, she told me, moments before she drove the knife through her own neck. She betrayed me, just like the others before her.”

“My condolences.”

She nodded, her face remaining neutral. “It has been over three decades since. I have moved on as best as I could.

“In fact,” she allowed herself a smile,” I happen to have a date just after we met up with our friends.”

“You still insist on fraternizing with your prey?” The count sneered. “Now that is a carelessness that will get you killed one day.”

“Because unlike you, I seek actual companionship?” Her eyes glinted like sharp icicles in the sun. “Because unlike you, I do not wish to to prolong myself in solitude and run afoul like some pack-less dog? Because I want to spend this blasted eternity with someone like myself?”

Blue flashed and briefly turned red. For a moment, the two stared at each other with an intensity not unlike of two big cats, every individual muscle tense and ready to pounce. Then as quickly as the moment came, it passed.

“I did not mean to insult you, milady. Forgive me. I only worry about others of our kind. We are already so very few remaining,” the count sighed.

“Do not kid yourself, count. You care for nobody but yourself,” the countess replied, but she too relaxed in her seat.

The next five minutes they spent in silence. The count returned to his brochure, only briefly looking up to take notes and to send another quick glance up at the clock tower. The young woman had produced a smartphone from her handbag and immersed herself in the screen, brief smiles lighting up her face in between her typing and the brief ping of sent messages.

“Empusa will be here in half an hour,” she said after little while and looked up from the screen. “She is picking up Lamia from the airport and helping her through customs right now.”

“What about Schreck?”

“The sun is still up, remember? He will meet us after dusk.”

“His mutation is as highly fascinating as it is impractical,” the count murmured. “Why didn't they update me about it?”

“We do possess a text chain, you know. I'm surprised you are not part of it, since you are always the one organizing our meetings.”

“I refuse to touch one of those damnable Apps ever since Lestat sent around pictures of his own rectum to everyone.”

“Suit yourself. Why the Americas?”

The count tapped his finger on the table. “The Mexica people of pre-Columbian America possessed fascinating religious rites related to blood sacrifice to honour their gods...I wonder if there might be others of our kind still in their old territory.”

The countess fiddled with her smartphone. “Sometimes, I admit, I envy your ability to travel without restraint. I tried everything, yet I still must return to my family's tomb ever so often.”

“Have you considered moving your tomb in its entirety, stone by stone? There are still many old woods and mountain valleys unmolested by human hand. I am sure the hags you usually travel with would be most grateful for the exercise.”

“I have tried, once, when Laura was still with me.” A twinge of sorrow crept across her face. “I wanted to go far, far away from home and take her with me. But then, my body began to wither, my senses to decay the longer I prolonged returning to my tomb for a night. Laura, too, could not go long without a place to return to. Horse-carriages can only get you so far. And when we tried to move a single stone, what little strength I had left in that moment was about to leave me.”

The count hummed. Then his own phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out, swiped across the screen, read the message in silence. A wolfish grin split his face.  

“Then you'll be happy to know that I plan on putting an end to these laws that seem to bind us.”

“What to you mean?” The countess leaned forward, an eyebrow arched.

“I planned on surprising all of you when Schreck, Lamia and the others would be gathered with us, but I might just as well reveal it all now,” the count smiled and leaned back, hands tapered together. There was a red gleam to his eyes, behind the sunglasses. “In my studies of the Americas, I came across a new initiate to our little circle – one that shares many of my own tastes and wishes to help others of his kin. Among such, is breaking the accursed bindings placed upon us.”

He extended a pointing finger. “He is currently sitting on the other end of the Breitscheidplatz. The tall man, olive skinned, with the gold rings in his ears.”

The countess followed his direction, narrowed her blue eyes to a glint. “What is his name?”

“The old Mayan people called him Camazotz. And he might very well be one of the first of our kind to walk this earth.”

On the other end of the square, the tall, olive-skinned man with golden rings in both his ears turned his head and nodded at them. His eyes gleamed in a blood-red, and for just a moment, both of the undead nobles could catch a glimpse of his shadow flickering across the wall behind him.

For just a split-second, they saw the shadow of a bat the size of a small house, stretching its wings and enveloping the street within its grasp.

[lovebitesimagines]

‘It Hurts’ -Tommy Shelby.

Prompt #3 with Tommy Shelby. 

I apologise for taking a little break from posting guys! I've been busy writing catching up with chapters and requests, and making sure that they’re perfect for you all. Thank you to anon for requesting this angsty/fluffy little prompt. This idea came to me, but it’s a subject I've never written about before so I hope I’ve done it justice!x

Tag list: @biba3434 @onlythechicagoway

If you wanna be tagged in a particular series, or all of my writing, just lemme know!x

Prompt list.

Send me over requests!

Masterlist.

Warnings: Birth.

Pairing: Tommy x Y/N.

Word count: 1.3k.

If anyone had told you a year ago, that you would be where you were today, you would have laughed in their face. Being with Tommy Shelby was something nearly every woman in Small Heath had dreamed off. His glacier blue eyes, seemed to know all of your secrets with just one glance. He possessed an unwavering sense of confidence, as he built up hidden emotional walls around him. Everybody knew that Tommy Shelby wasn’t one for romance, instead choosing to participate in brief sexual trysts. If you were picked for that, you wouldn’t hear of Tommy again.

           When you had caught his attention in The Garrison that evening, he was surprised at how different you were. Although you were polite and sociable towards him, you were not like the other women whose instant thought was bedding him. You were quieter, interested in holding an intellectual conversation with him, something he had not experienced with a woman for some time. You had intrigued him, left him wanting to get to know you.

           You had gotten to know each other, enjoying the company and reassurance of finding a like-minded person. Falling in love with Tommy Shelby happened as quickly as a blink of an eye. You had woken up one morning, his body pressed up against yours as his arms wrapped tightly around you and realised it. He secretly had known how he felt about you long before that moment, on a night where your angry words made The Garrison fall silent. It made him feel proud that he had found a woman who could match him, make him a better man.

           You had found out you were pregnant with Tommys’ child a couple of weeks later. It was Aunt Pol who had told you, making a remark on how large your breasts had become. She was the one who had taken you to the doctors and was there when he had confirmed the news. Aunt Pol was like a mother to you, her heart-warming at the sight of you and Tommy together, something she had waited a long time to see.

           You had told Tommy that evening, the silence that came after deafening. Panic had taken over your body, as you waited for a response. He left you waiting, apprehension sickly dancing in your stomach. What was only a couple of seconds, felt like a lifetime, before you felt his arms tightly wrap around you, the excited words spilling out of his mouth. He had always wanted this, it was his biggest dream.

           If you thought Tommy Shelby was protective before your pregnancy, this only increased massively during those nine months. He did everything for you, stating that you were not to lift a finger. You didn’t tell him that when he was out, you were the one cooking dinner, not Aunt Pol. You both watched as your stomach swelled, fascinated at the life that was growing inside of you.

           Towards the end of your pregnancy, things were slowly starting to change. If you were not watching everything out of pure boredom, it would have slipped past quick enough that you wouldn’t have noticed. Tommy seemed to spend less time at home, more time on business. You watched as he came home, noticing the cuts and bruises that he so desperately tried to hide. You knew that he didn’t want you to worry, but you couldn’t help but do so. You had attempted to question them, but you would often be met with only silence.

           Despite all of this, he promised you that he would be there for the birth. He wouldn’t miss it for the world.

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“Where the fuck is he?” you screamed, feeling the intense, burning pain course through your body. Your fingers dug into the mattress, as you bit down hard on your bottom lip.

“I don’t know (Y/N). Don’t fret about it now, he will be here soon” Aunt Pol brushed your hair away from your face, in an attempt to sooth you slightly. Ada moved around the room, placing a bowl of hot water and towels down beside the bed.

           Aunt Pols’ attempts at calming you down, were fruitless. Agonizing waves of pain tore through your body, fabric catching underneath your nails as you dug deeper into the bed. You could feel the tears stream down your face, dampening the skin around your collarbone. Panic continued to flow through your veins, your eyes widening with unstoppable anxiety. You didn’t want this to happen. Not without Tommy there.

           Before he had left that morning for business, Tommy had placed a soft kiss upon your forehead. He would be back long before the moon made an appearance in the sky, he had promised. It would only be a quick business venture after all. One glance out of the window caused you to become more alarmed. The moon would soon show itself in the dusky evening sky, the last rays of sunshine slowly lowering onto the horizon.

“You need to push” Ada stated as she knelt down in front of you, her eyes meeting yours.

“I-I can’t. Not without Tommy” you sobbed quietly, noticing the quick glance Ada and Aunt Pol shared with each other.

“You’re going to have too” Ada explained, rolling up the sleeves on her shirt. “It will do you or the baby no good”.

“He promised. He promised he would be here” you whispered, swallowing hard.

“I know sweetheart. I know. He’ll be here soon, but you need to start pushing” Aunt Pol replied softly, her fingers continuing to brush away strands of hair that had fallen upon your face.

           You took a sharp intake of breath as the pain became more intense, your mind becoming dull with agony. Your vision became fuzzy, only being able to identify a few shapes within the room. You could hear your screams rip out from between your lips, an almost animalistic, foreign sound to your ears.

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           You were unaware of how much time had passed, each second seeming to melt into an hour. The moon had slowly begun its entrance into the night sky, before a new shape entered the room. You felt their presence beside you, their fingers entangling with yours, calm instantly washing over you. You blinked quickly, attempting to focus on who was beside you. Your eyes met his, worry clear in his piercing blue orbs.

“I’m here now love” Tommy murmured, his skin pale as he took in the scene before him.

“It hurts” you whispered, your voice breaking in between sobs.

“You’re almost done” you heard Ada call out.

           Everything went blurry again.

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           You awoke to rays of sunlight dancing through the window, beaming into the room around you. You blinked in confusion, every bone and muscle in your body dully aching as you slowly propped yourself up on your elbows. Your eyes sleepily scanned across the room, before falling upon Tommy.

           He was sat with his back towards you, the chair angled so that he could face the window, his shadow cast against the floorboards. His shoulders were drooping slightly, slowly moving with each breath. His head was bent down, appearing as if he was sleeping. You quietly shifted yourself out of bed, careful not to make a single sound as you made your way towards him.

           He didn’t move as you knelt beside him, his eyes intently gazing down at your daughter as he cradled her gently in his arms. Tommy was gentle with you, of course he was, but this was different. Every slight movement he made, was carefully calculated, slow and deliberate. He glanced towards you, a smile playing upon his lips.

“How did we manage this?” he whispered, before his focus was again placed upon your daughter. “I’ve been holding her like this for hours. I can never tire of the little facial expressions she’s been making, the way her fingers curl when she’s asleep”.

“We made something perfect” you mumbled, pressing your lips gently against his shoulder.

           You thought it was impossible to love Tommy any more than you did but watching him with your daughter completely changed everything.

[cassiefanfic]

Stay With Me Part Two: Found

Part: 2 of 4

Fandom: Marvel/ Avengers

Character/Ship: Loki x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader, Mr. and Mrs. Bradley (Original Characters), Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Thor, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton

Warning: Fluff, Angst, Pregnancy, mentions of violence

Writer: Cassie

Words: 3954

Requested by: Anon on @thefandomimagine

Summary: After a couple of months of being in New York and living with the Bradleys, coming to terms with being powerless and a single mother-to-be, Y/N is slowly learning to adapt to Midgardian life. While working one day, Steve Rogers comes to her checkout counter, with his pearly white smile and a whole new world for Y/N to learn.

[Based off of:] http://thefandomimagine.tumblr.com/post/99044716364/submitted-by-anonymous

Author’s Note: This takes place a month after the Battle of New York.

This was beta’ed by @kittenofdoomage who is amazing and I adore her so much. Go check her out!!!

Series Masterlist

Y/N’s POV

I was not Y/N of Asgard anymore. I was Y/N Bradley of New York State. After two months, we got me new clothes, a doctor to help with my child and a job at a library in New York City. As well as a thing called a car and a piece of plastic called a drivers license. It was a different culture completely. So primitive, so loud, so bright and flashy. I adapted to their technology, getting an iPhone 5 and a laptop, both by a company called Apple.

I learned much of their culture, reading their books, wearing their clothes, watching the moving pictures they called movies or television. Because of my job, I had access to much of their history, a lot about the great battles fought, destruction brought among people mindlessly fighting over similar causes. I learned of the losses and that which we have gained. It was all so… primitive yet fascinating.

Another day I awoke, got dressed in the handmade clothes Mrs. Bradley made for me and went down for breakfast. At my spot was a bowl of blueberry banana oatmeal and a glass of milk. Strange enough, the oatmeal was one of the few things the baby enjoyed and didn’t make me throw back up.

“How do grilled cheese and tomato soup sound Y/N?” Mr. Bradley asked as he tore up his toast into easier bites.

“That would be lovely for lunch! That jelly substance as well please?”

“Jello? I’m glad you like that.” Mrs. Bradley replied gleefully. “I’ll drop it off around 11:30 okay?”

“Yes. But not downtown. We finally have the old location open again.” I reminded before taking another bite of oatmeal.

About a month ago, my fellow librarians and patrons found ourselves trapped inside the library as someone and an army of Chitauri destroyed New York City. After a couple of hours, we were finally rescued by two men, who were called Iron Man and Captain America. I told little to the emergency responders, allowing them to give me an emergency ultrasound to check on my baby, immediately taking the opportunity to see the life growing in me on a tiny black and white screen.

It was small, while I was still only a couple months along. This must’ve been the happiest I was. Having that little grape-sized image in front of me completed me, settled my fear. I couldn’t think about Loki or the Chitauri attack. I could only think of the baby.

I finished eating before getting my bag and hurrying out to my car, giving quick hugs on my way out. Settling in and buckling up, the radio gave me more insight into the New York City recovery, construction, hospitalized patients being let out after their care was completed. I quickly interrupted the monotone voices with the Top 20 popular songs that these Midguardians seemed to enjoy. That’s one thing I never seemed to quite grasp. The music of this planet. Each song on Asgard had its specific purpose, but here, they all had hidden meanings. They were about love but about being alone. They were about anger but also about lust. It was a concept that confused me every day. But it was one out of the three stations I could get on the car radio, so I made do.

The grape had grown to the size of a lime, and the lime kept making me puke and take naps in the back of the check out counter. I somehow distracted myself with the small plastic bag of saltine crackers I hid in my large sweater pocket, the absurdly large water bottle with the label Nalgene I had decorated with a few little things called stickers by my side and the book I kept close, reading it whenever I wasn’t checking out books to various patrons. It was called The Great Gatsby, and it was one of the simpler books I had read from this realm. I was slowly making my way through the whole library through not only Mr. and Mrs. Bradley’s recommendations but from the other librarians, learning the proper phrasing of words on Earth, along with learning the social behaviors of the past and present.

As I read, the world around me escaped, and I focused intensely on the glitz and glamor of the 1920s. I remembered watching a documentary on the 1920s, so I could somewhat visualize it, which was taking up at least half my brain where the words weren't flowing.

"That's a good book." A voice spoke, pulling me from my trance and my focus to the gentleman standing at the counter with four books in his hand. His kind smile radiated with his bright blue eyes. His hair was like honey, glistening in the light from the window. After I stood to help him, I noticed how tall he was as well.

"Excuse me?"

"That book. It's a really good book, didn't care for the films though." He repeated, a soft smile across his face as I bookmarked my page and set the book aside.

"I just started it today. It's going by quite fast," I responded, smiling lightly as he handed me his library card and the small stack of books. I scanned the card and began to check out books for him as he nodded.

"I must've read it 20 times. When you're done with that you should read the Wizard of Oz or maybe ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’." I nodded quickly, pulling out my small notebook and opening it to the book section, where there were many recommendations scribbled down.

"I already read Wizard of Oz but that other one I'll get to next," I whispered as I scribbled it down.

"Looks like you have quite a few people who want you to read things."

"Yeah. Yeah, I am just catching up. It's been a while since I've been able to sit down and read."

He smiled and touched his book stack. "Yeah, I'm in that same spot. Maybe we'll have to swap recommendations. Like over coffee or something?"

I know this line, or a line similar to this. He was courting me, or as the Midguardians called it, asking me out.

"You barely know me. You don't know my name-"

"Y/N. I've seen you around here and you uh- you have a name tag. Look, I don’t mean any harm. You seem like a nice girl."

"Well then..." I looked at the screen, reading his name before looking up at him, "Steve Rogers. When were you planning this coffee-or-something date?"

"Well, my friend knows this great restaurant a block or two down. Maybe we can go there tonight, or tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow would be nice. What time?" I questioned, pulling out a small piece of paper.

"How about 7? Where should I pick you up?"

"I live about 40 minutes out of Manhattan, near New Rochelle. So maybe I should meet you here-"

"It would be a pleasure to come to pick you up. I don't mind at all." He affirmed. I smiled lightly and look down.

"It's just- I live with my parents-"

"And it would be an honor to meet them. Give me your address and I'll pick you up tomorrow at 7. Alright?" He reassured, leaning forward on the counter a bit.

I blushed and quickly wrote down the farm address on a piece of paper for him, along with my phone number and my name. Handing him his receipt and the books, along with the paper, I smiled lightly and questioned, "What kind of this restaurant is this exactly?"

"Fancy-ish. Just wear a dress and bring that beautiful smile okay?" He answered, putting his books in his reusable bag and pocketing the pieces of paper in his jacket pocket. "I'll see you tomorrow night." He smiled lightly and walked out, leaving me with a smile of joy across my face.

The next day, Janice convinced my boss to let me off work three hours early as she covered my shift, joy radiating to her bones that I was finally getting my head out of the books and finding my true ways around New York.

“How long until you will tell him?” She inquired as we checked in books, making sure they weren’t damaged before putting them on the reshelving cart.

“I don’t know. I’m just beginning to show a bit but I don’t know. When should I tell him?”

“After a couple of dates. You don’t want to overwhelm him. If you feel like you can trust him, go ahead. It’s up to you.” She explained, grabbing the last book from my hand with a smile. “Now you go ahead and get ready for tonight. I don’t want you to get caught up in rush hour traffic honey.” She hugged me tightly before handing me my bag, water bottle and a copy of To Kill A Mockingbird before sending me on my way to the parking garage.

I was so excited, my hands trembling in joy as I drove home, and for the first time, I found myself singing along to the music on the radio, not minding if I was off key. After I made my way into the farmhouse, I took a nice hot shower, making sure to use the nicest smelling soap I had, and that my hair was extra clean. Before I even had the chance to grab the yellow dress I had been thinking of all day, Mrs. Bradley came into my room and gave me a light blue wrap dress.

“This is amazing. Did you-”

“I got to work on it the second you finished dinner yesterday. I already had a pattern I was going to use and you made it easy when I was wondering which color to make it. Light blue, like the sky, just like his eyes are supposed to be.” She laid it on the bed before helping me get my necklace on. The necklace I still wore to remind me of Loki, that I am bearing his child, and that I will never see him again.

I smiled sadly and dried my hair before getting into the dress. After brushing my hair and putting on some light makeup, I got on some ballet flats and got a small clutch, making sure my medication for the evening, my phone, and I.D. were inside as a heavy knock sounded from downstairs. I gasped and hurried down,

“You look cold, here,” Steve said as he took off his jacket. It took me a second to realize that in my excitement earlier, I forgot to grab a coat. Steve carefully helped me slip my arms in, wrapping it close to my trembling body with a soft smile. “There you go.”

“Thank you, Steve. Thank you.” I whispered as I held the edges. After dinner, he had offered to walk with me to the ice cream shop for dessert, which I immediately agreed to. I hadn’t ever seen New York at night like this. The only time I did was after the library was destroyed and I was waiting with emergency services until the Bradley’s came to get me.

Steve smiled kindly and nodded, leading me down the sidewalk. I was so caught up in the lights that I didn’t mind his arm around my waist, making sure I was alright. After three blocks I looked over at him and smiled.

“It’s nice isn’t it?” He asked, his face showing his amusement with his wide smile and focused eyes.

“I haven’t been out this late since-” I gulped and looked down. “Since the attack. This is my second time out this late.” My hand shook as I grabbed a bench and sat down. Steve joined me and smiled softly as he listened. “It was about 20 of us trapped in the library. We didn’t want to go outside because we were afraid of what would happen if we did. These two men, everyone called them Iron Man and Captain America, they saved us. They were part of the people called the Avengers. They stopped the attack…. And got us out of there.” I looked up at Steve. “The recovery team took care of me until my parents came and got me. I had to get a new car… mine was destroyed in the attack. I just… I wish I could’ve thanked them.” I looked back down before saying, “I’m not hungry for ice cream anymore.”

Steve nodded. “Okay. Let’s go to the car and I can drive you home.” He got up and held out his hand, which I gently took as I stood. I kept his hand in mine as we walked to the parking garage where he parked. As we got to the car and Steve dug through his pockets for the keys, we heard a click, one that I only heard in films. Steve and I turned around to find three guns pointed at us, two at him, one at me. I’ve seen this in movies, like in Superman from 1978 or in that movie Clueless. I immediately clutched Steve’s arm, the fear of my mortality and lack of Asgardian powers making my hands tremble.

“Give us your wallets. Now.” One of the men who had his gun pointed at Steve demanded.

“I-I don’t have one-”

“Shut it you dumb slut! Both of you! Wallets!” The one pointing his gun at me yelled, causing me to grip onto Steve’s arm tightly. I looked up at Steve to find him standing there with a very displeased look across his face.

“Son, I advise you apologize to her.”

“Steve just give them your wallet okay?” I whispered. He shook his head and stood in front of me.

“What tough guy? You trying to be scary and tough in front of the slut huh?” The other mugger asked as he clicked a bullet into place. I tried to reach for Steve to stop him, but the one that had his gun at me aimed it for my head, causing me to freeze and stare.

“I said to apologize to her. Now.” Steve demanded as his fists clenched.

“The slut doesn’t need an apology-” Steve quickly swung his fist, knocking out the man who had his gun at me immediately.

One of the others grabbed Steve and punched him as the other one grabbed me and pressed me against the car, keeping the gun pointed at my chin as he grabbed Steve’s jacket, trying to feel through his pockets for the wallet. He finally grabbed it, laughing as he threw me to the ground.

I tried to catch myself, but I felt the impact on my head, causing me to wince in pain and grip my head tightly. I slowly looked up to Steve fighting the one that just had the gun pointed at me. I looked to see the other two unconscious on the ground as Steve grabbed the man and punched him hard, knocking him out. He retrieved his wallet and hurried to my side, checking my head as I looked up at him with blurred vision.

“S-Steve- What has gotten into you?” I shakily asked as he pocketed my phone and his wallet. He sighed and picked me up, setting me in the passenger seat of the car carefully and buckling me up.

“I got a friend that can patch you up. Just calm down and I’ll explain soon.” He said before closing the door and going to the driver’s side. He began to drive through the city, gripping the steering wheel tightly in anger. I weakly reached over, not caring how much I wanted to sleep, or how much my head hurt, and touched his arm, causing him to relax a little. I gave him a soft smiled before my eyes closed, allowing the darkness to pull me away.

About two hours later, I woke up to the feeling of warmth surrounding me and an unfamiliar feeling on my head. Not pain, but it was comfortable. I slowly opened my eyes as different voices fill my ears.

“Thank you, Bruce. I didn’t know who to turn to and the hospital didn’t feel like a right choice-”

“It’s okay Steve. Are you ready for when she wakes up though? I’m sure if she wakes up here, she will have a few questions.”

“I know. I know. I’ll figure it out. When will everyone else be back?”

“Clint and Nat will be back soon, Tony probably is on his way up from his lab.”

“And Thor?”

“He’s just in his room- Look who’s awake?”

Looking up as my vision adjusted, Steve was across the room with a slightly shorter man who had brown hair, some glasses, and a suit on. Steve crossed the room quickly to be at my side.

“Steve I-”

“How are you feeling? Do you need water?”

“Steve, what happened back there? And who is this? Where am I?” I demanded as I began to sit up.

Steve placed a hand on my shoulder and pressed gently, causing me to lay back down before letting out a soft sigh. “You’re at the Avengers Tower. This is my friend Bruce. You hit your head back at the parking garage and I needed to make sure you were okay. Would you like some water?’

I nodded slowly and Bruce walked over with a nice cold cup of water, smiling softly. After drinking some I looked around before looking up at Steve. ��Wait, why are we in the Avengers Tower?”

“Y/N I-”

“I heard we had a guest!” A loud voice erupted from the elevator, causing us all to look over. I knew that face, of course, I had to know it. The man walked over and I couldn’t stop my own words from falling out of my mouth.

“You’re Tony Stark.”

“Yes, I am! Capsicle, this is not what I expected but you do have good taste-”

“Capsicle? Steve, what is he talking about?” I interrupted, looking at him with shock.

Steve moved a bit closer and sighed. “Remember the library? Where those two men saved you?” I nodded slowly, allowing him to continue. “Tony is Iron Man, Bruce is the Hulk, and I’m-”

“You’re Captain America,” I whispered, sitting up a bit. This time he didn't stop me, he was too busy looking down ashamed to do that. I sighed softly and hugged him close, bringing shock to not only him, but the other two. “Thank you,” I whispered in his ear. I then shakily stood and hugged Tony before sitting.

“I’ll take that as you’re not mad?” Steve asked, shock drawn across his face. I shook my head and smiled softly.

“First you saved my life, and then took me on one of the best dates I’ve had in a long time. Why would I be mad Steve?” I replied, holding his hand as I rested back. “So… Captain America?”

Steve smiled and nodded. “Yep. With the shield and everything.”

“That makes you about 100 years old.” I laughed softly. “I can say, for an old man you’re quite attractive.” I continued.

Right as Steve was about to answer, the elevator opened again and a loud voice erupted. “100 is nothing. Try 1000- Y/N?”

I sat up quickly as the figure entered the room and stared at me. I slowly began to stand as the familiarity hit me. “Thor?”

“Lady Y/N.” He replied, a wide smile forming across his face. I ran across the room quickly, hugging him as tight as I could. He picked me up and spun me around, before holding me close. He smelled of Asgard, the smells I longed, the smells I missed. “We’ve all been wondering where you’ve been! It’s been quite a while!”

Tony stepped forward, Steve not too far behind as the questions began to flow.

“How do you and Sparkles know each other?”

“Since when did you know him?”

Thor and I ignored them, completely invested in each other. He finally set me down on my own two feet, but kept a grip on my hips, as I kept a grip on his arms.

“Odin banished me. I thought I’d never see you or Loki again.”

“I know why. Heimdall told me. I deeply apologize for what has happened.”

I shrugged, looking down before asking. “How is he?”

“He was the one that attacked New York. He’s locked up now in an Asgardian prison. But most importantly, he is grieving you.”

“Grieving?”

“He knows father banished you, but not why. He longs your return.”

We were both snapped out of our discussion as Steve spoke up. “Can someone please tell us what is going on here?!”

Thor and I looked from Steve to each other, nodding before I went to sit on the couch, Steve by my side. “It’s a long story.”

After I explained everything to Steve, how I was at one point with Loki, and how I was with his child, I let him process things as I walked out to the balcony. The view was beautiful. I never got a chance to see New York from this high up before. I carefully rubbed my stomach, feeling like I was reassuring the baby, but I was actually reassuring myself. All I could think of were the bad possibilities.

What if they locked me up? What if they took me back to Asgard and locked me up? Would I never see Thor again? Or Steve? And what about Loki? Would I ever really see him again?

I was pulled from my thoughts when a figure joined my side, the redhead everyone called Nat.

“So….” She whispered, turning her gaze to me, as I kept mine to the skyline. “You dated Loki?”

I nodded slowly, looking to her. “For quite a few years before I arrived here.”

“And you are pregnant with his kid?”

“That is why I was banished. Is there a point?”

“Are you… upset? Over what happened a couple of months ago?”

“I wasn’t aware of who it was until….quite recently. All I was told was that the Chitauri attacked. During the attack, I was trapped in the library, so I only saw the aftermath. I don’t know of Loki’s motives besides his grief of my leaving. I have lost everything, Loki, my home. I’ve had to start anew in an unfamiliar place, with nobody I knew. I have to raise this child alone. Of course, I am upset-”

“You’re not alone.” Steve’s voice spoke up, causing both Nat and I to turn to him. He stood in the doorway with his head down, his hands shoved in his pockets.

“Wh-What?”

“You have your “parents”. And you have me. And all of the Avengers. But please, let me help you, Y/N. Let me help you raise this baby. I know I’m not the father and I am no good at understanding kids but-”

“Yes,” I whispered, walking up to him slowly.

“What?” He asked quickly, lifting his head to make eye contact.

“Yes. You can help.” I whispered before hugging his waist, resting my head on his chest. I felt him slowly pull his hands out of his pocket and wrap his arms around me, keeping me close as he rested his chin on the top of my head. “Just… promise you’ll stay Steve. Promise me you’ll stay with me.”

All he gave was a nod and hold me. Nat slipped away to join the others inside, leaving us to hug as the city lights shined bright behind us. Just us. And for the first time in what seemed like forever,

I was home.

[ashwritesstuffies]

Soul Meets Body Joshua Graham x Arcade Gannon

Got this idea at the ripe hour of 5:50am while talking to my artistically brilliant friend Angel @gangnome. This is loosely based on the ending of New Vegas where Arcade went exploring. I like to think he found himself fascinated with finding new reading materials. Naturally he finds himself following this bandaged hunk who at  Happy reading you precious bastards!)

I want to live where soul meets body and let the sun wrap its arms around me,

And bathe my skin in waters cool and cleansing and feel, and feel what it’s like to be new.

The reddening ex-follower had been walking for hours on end. He’d left town when his Enclave identity was revealed, only seldom did he look back. Usually he cursed the sun and the sky and the highly irradiated desertscape he found himself trapped in. His idea was simple, when put on paper. Explore and study, find a place where he can thrive on his naturally high intellect. He’d told only Six where exactly his first trip would be, definitely not because he wanted backup.

He was headed to what was left of New Canaan. As he said to Six, his trip was to sift through the wreckage for what might even resemble a book he hadn’t yet read. Through the mountain spotted areas leading into Utah he went, until an ambush of White Legs remnants proved nearly life-threatening. At the near sound of someone attacking, he was caught off guard. Losing his footing found him sliding down the hillside into a body of cold, clean water.

The sounds of a .45 pistol firing kept his attention away from the horrendous fall. Against all better judgement he sat up in the water to watch what must’ve been fourteen men get blown to pieces by one man.

“Weird flex, but okay,” sarcasm flowed naturally from the blonde man’s mouth.

“They would’ve killed you, but okay,” the burned man’s wit was just as sharp it seemed.

He helped the man up and got him to the camp. He even stayed by his side while the smock-clad man self-administered first aid. After his wounds had been cared for, the leader asked him to stay a while. They spent many hours in deep conversation. From that he learned why his ex-companion had been wary to come back. It was, honestly, unsurprising to find out his old pal Six had helped overthrow nearly the entirety of their rival gang. That was always up their alley. He adjusted his glasses before making his own proposal to the ex-legionnaire. He couldn’t talk, he’d been in the enclave since he was a child. He helped the sick in his own way, mostly by teaching others how to fix their most common issues for themselves. All-the-while affections grew between he and his newfound friend.

At first it was a common admiration. then like a miracle Arcade had found a certain, less irradiated plant that had some numbing properties. Man might think it insane but the scientist found himself the first test subject. In an era without sunblock, sunburns were seldom helped out and certain cancers enjoyed taking lives to those without some form of protection. Applying the bark along with some ash seemed to cool off those pesky burns though. Proud he found himself looking to his heavily burned friend.

“So, um,” he had no idea how to say what he needed to say. “You’re in…. Constant pain, Joshua?”

“I can handle it, why,” he didn’t even look up from his holy book.

“I discovered something that might possibly help,” how in the hell did he get nervous offering this hunk help? The world may never know.

“Absolutely not,” he shut his book, stood from his perch and walked away.

This baffled the would-be medic. “Wait, what the actual hell?”

The New Canaanite stopped, “I said no, this is my cross to bear.”

Naturally the blonde haired gent had to go follow his friend. There was no way in hell, or on Earth he would let another person suffer if he could help it. There was an old saying, you can lead a horse to water but you can’t make it drink.

Cause in my head there’s a greyhound station where I send my thoughts to far off destinations where they may find a chance of finding a place where they’re far more suited than here.

The crusade went on for two weeks until the older man caved. He couldn’t help cracking a smile  at the idea that anyone would gladly want to help the likes of him. On a particularly painful day he sought out the medic he’d somewhat employed. The binding bandages on his wrists towards his fingertips were the first to go as Arcade prepared his solution. If it could stop the places where rope burned into skin from stinging like death maybe he’d ask for more help.

“You ready to be subject number two in my notes,” a strange, unretractable statement the man lightly tanning man regretted instantly. “ That was… Um, Here.”

He gently took the hand of his acquainted and applied a small, rectangular-ish splotch of the sticky mixture. After it’d been painted on the reaction was nearly instantaneous. A hushed oh followed by a genuine smile inevitably met the top list. Breaking the silence himself, the bandaged man admitted.

“I expected nothing,” it was a small, pseudo-complement. “It actually stopped some of the pain.”

“You’re kidding, right,” he half expected everything he worked for to end in vain.

“For once, no, you actually helped,” yet again with the wit. It was accompanied by a grin that was nearly visible between bandages.

“Wow, finally, I can die happy tomorrow,” they shared a laugh as he realized he’d not yet let go of the charred hand he held.

That night the two sat a bit closer to eat dinner. Joshua told stories and things were oddly calming. No attacks neither animal nor tribal. The stars spotted the sky like bright freckles the moon was but a silver thumbnail up above. In the flickering firelight beneath the blanket of the endless sky the two’s conversations lasted well past the morning’s sunrise. On bedrolls, adjacent practically, they theorized everything. Each of the two men drifted off to slumber courtesy of the other’s voice.

The next day woke the acting leader after a few good hours of rest. He glanced over to the person who’d kept him company. It was unfamiliar, to feel this way about someone else after all he’d done. He had to, in his thoughts, find a way to figure out what exactly the feeling was. Like some sort of trial. He’d not the foggiest of ideas about the possibilities. When the blonde awoke there was cooked food and silent bible reading. Obviously he thanked the blue eyed food-bringer who’d been wearing onto his heart. In response the man’d been quick to pass the love onto someone else, claiming one of the Dead Horses had cooked. Protest threatened to fall from his lips at the blatant deflection of affection.

I cannot guess what we’ll discover when we turn the dirt with our palms cupped like shovels,

But I know our filthy hands can wash one another and not one speck will remain.

An unexpected guest came and went. Turned out several of the friends he’d left back in the Mojave were a bit worried about him. An expedition lead by Six to see if the Arcade Gannon they knew was still alive and well. Luckily for him, things were more than swimmingly. Six months had come and left bringing to his feet the very man of his dreams. He, of course, hadn’t said anything about it to the person of his affection. Six pulled their friend aside, seemingly knowing everything.

“It’s Joshua isn’t it,” their years of wingmanning had given them natural insight. “You’ve got the hots for him.”

“Who the hell do you--” he began to argue then stopped himself. “Yeah, honestly I’m taken.”

“By Josh,” they’d played only to get chastised lovingly by their friend.

When they’d left taking with them the rest of their gang, he had ample time to confess his affections. Six had pretty well insisted that if he thought this was it to jump. The last part was, in the semi-professional opinion of the ex-follower, was inconceivably hard to actually do. Little did he know, the one he had fallen for, too, was in deep in the emotional department. The blue eyed, swat-vested male sat beside his childhood friend. Intensely conversing over heaven, hell, and choices the men made.

“Daniel, have you ever thought of taking a lover,” it sounded hundreds of times better in his head.

“I have, why do you ask,” it was unlike the friend he knew to talk openly of feelings. However, that’s exactly what they did.

An hour or so brought forth the kind of confidence in the ex-legate he had long since forgotten. His loving friend hand fed him a pep-talk and together they assembled a bouquet of flowers. They were to be brought by the burned man to his crush. His gifts were met with gifts of sweets from the rosy cheeked blonde. Chocolate Frosted Fancy Lads, the kind of confirmation he so clearly sought. Words couldn’t capture the beauty of the entire moment. A well needed hug, however, was an offer neither could refuse.

“You got me flowers,” first to break the silence was the handsome scientist with lacking social skills. “I don’t know what’s worse, my chocolate offerings or-” Their lips met once, then twice, breaking the sentence before it could be complete.

I do believe it’s true that there are roads left in both of our shoes,

But if the silence gets you then I hope it takes me, too.

A month found the two happy in love. Given the upcoming holiday Arcade longed to see his friends. Every year he’d spent with the courier and their friends Raul would play his guitar and sing once popular christmas songs. Lily loved to decorate the home, it was all lovely. He couldn’t wait to share these traditions with his man. The one he once dreamed would swoop him up. They’d be proud and it made him so soggy with sentiment.

He talked about them a lot to his man, as did the fiery leader about his friends and the tribals. First they’d spent three days searching nearby cities for gifts. Useful or not the forest eyed man only ever became sappy during the holidays. It was like, a hidden feature of himself only few could see. Once he’d spent well over a few thousand caps on a crapload of repairs needed in the Old Mormon Fort. The look on Julie’s face when she saw actual huts being built to replace some of the tents. From then it kind of snowballed.

“So, you’re sarcastically devoted to your friends,” asked the one he’d been info-dumping history to well into their walk home.

“Pretty much, I hate them, but they’re the greatest,” he didn’t mind clarifying as his lightly calloused hand brushed the bandaged fingers of his boyfriend’s hand.

They’d commandeered a shopping cart from the side of the cracked road to carry back supplies and gifts. Among a bit of the salvage were a few sweaters untouched for the most part save some fallout and dirt. When they arrived back to camp, the green eyed man jokingly suggested Joshua try on the sweater proclaiming ‘Merry Christmas Ya Filthy Animal!’ To humor his love, he actually slid it over his shoulders and head. When he turned to ask how he looked, he was met with laughter and cheers. After such a display it was only natural that the blonde man bore his sweater with a one headed radstag.

“I look ridiculous,” he couldn’t help but laugh at himself and his decisions.

“We both look ridiculous,” who was the natural leader to not laugh with his love. “It’s an everyday thing, the sweater just emboldens it.”

“You ready to head to the Mojave,” there was excitement and adventure-lust deeply lacing his tone. “Your friends are going to love this, dear.”

The road back to the strip was actually rather lax, the only things daring to step up were Viper gang members who just wanted everyone to ‘stay as far as possible the fuck away from our post’. The burned man himself saw to it that no one occupied the post anymore, all it took was one shot whizzing past Arcade’s head. The shock on that blonde man’s face when the bullet grazed by was enough rage-fuel to set the building aflame but that he did not do. For miles afterwards the usual chatter was replaced with a calm, collected silence between would be married men.

Across the state line a ways into Nevada the green eyed blonde actually spoke up, ��so you know you didn’t have to kill them, right?”

“I didn’t,” he admitted in response. “Until they shot at you, then all bets, my love, were so far off.”

“Okay, but next time we could always tactically evade getting attacked,” he knew in his heart that some people just could not be reasoned with.

That being a cold hard fact never stopped the small twinge of regret he would seldom get for the fallen. There wasn’t another word until they reached New Vegas proper. It was a bit of a surprise to find that the ex-legate had never seen the strip. The best friend of Mr. couldn’t make medicines from desert plants met them near the entrance to Crimson Caravan. Upon first sight of their old doctor companion returning was like seeing the first snow of a nuclear winter, except less death and more excitement.

Hugs were passed around like a peace pipe, then they were off again to the strip. It never occured to Six that they were the sole reason some of their friends actually made it onto the strip. Next stop was the Lucky 38’s presidential suite. Inside the old casino, many decorations were being strewn about with purpose. Ed-E had the wasteland equivalent of mistletoe and was flying around with great purpose. Stopping once in a while to get his friends to smooch. For a piece of AI tech, he sure had a way of putting people together.

The day for gift exchanging was upon them, Christmas some called it. Six just called it ‘give me what you wanna and I have some stuff for you’ day. After Joshua gave his first holiday sermon to his newfound friends, the building seemed live. In the cafeteria the salvaged securitrons had a line up of actual decent food. There was enough booze to tranquilize a young deathclaw. Then, after eating well over everyone’s weight in festive goodies they finally traded presents.

From Arcade to Six was an ample amount of stimpaks and some festive combat armor. In return he received an old textbook that talked about native plantlife in the areas. Joshua had given them all bibles, jokingly. His boyfriend’s hand in his he delivered the “you’re all sinners let’s party” speech.

“Hemhem,” spoke up an old brotherhood scribe. “Where’s mine?”

The smile that spread the width of green eye’s face was gorgeous. A true treasure for those who saw it, “hold on junk junkie I’ve got what you need.” He tossed a blue and white dress her way. “Did you think I’d let my gays go without?”

“You’re a  dork, Gannon,” Veronica hugged her wouldbe wingman. “How did you know I liked the color blue?”

“Trust me, you wouldn’t want to walk around in gourd colors,” they shared more than their fair share of laughter. “Unless you’re like, into that sort of thing.”

Their sentimental shitchat was cut off halfway when the Courier brought in a runt gecko. They introduced the seemingly harmless pet, Squishy. That night was spent with great happiness. When it was time to hit the sack, it wasn’t surprising to find Joshua and Arcade comfortably snuggled up in one of the few rooms. They’d be sure to make this tradition a yearly thing. Finding the crappiest gifts possible and getting the same in return was more than anyone could ask for in the company of both boyfriend and best friends.  

So brown eyes I’ll hold you near ‘cause you’re the only song I want to hear,

A melody softly soaring through my atmosphere.

A melody softly soaring through my atmosphere..

[jennsmischievousmind]

A perfect fit (part 3)

Summary : James Buchanan Barnes stumbles upon you, a lady that got him wrapped around her finger.

Warning/s: smut. If you’re under 18 please don’t read this.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader; Steve Rogers x reader (platonic)

Words: 2,836

Tags : @rodkrake @kaffekanden @namiiswan @destielinamoose @slender--spirit

A/N : English is not my native language … yeah coz writing smut in french sucks sometimes so excuse my rough english.

In the idea that Bucky and Steve came back to Brooklyn after the war and never went near a freaking train. It’s a pretty long one so I’ll do parts.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Oliver forced you to take the day off. You went home with Bucky, for your last night together, he worshiped you even more than usual, it was all you. He ran a bath for you two to enjoy, between his kisses on your shoulder bones you told him.

”I hate that you’re leaving.” he stopped, his embrace tightened.  

“Then I'm going to do something you will adore..” he whispered.

”Stay?” You said sheepishly, you knew he won’t, but you had to try. He softly chuckled against your neck before gliding his fingers between your breasts, your chest rising under his touch.   

His strong arms draping over your shoulders, hands grazing your tummy to your pubic bone, his left hand found your nipples brushing against each of them, wet with water and bubbles, he admired your breasts glistening. Your hands reached his hair, your head turning to him you captured his lips in a sweet kiss, hand curling around his neck.

His hands skimmed down your wet body, parting your legs, caressing each of your thighs down your core, his fingers sliding swiftly from your entrance to your clit. Your mouth hung open when he pushed two finger deep within you, gently curling them, going back and forth at an unbearable slow rhythm, increasing your pleasure until his thumb lightly touched your bundle of nerves, you jolted splashing water outside the bathtub. He muffled a chuckle in your neck, your low tummy tightening at his deep voice resonated.

“You feel amazing Y/N!” a moaned escaped your mouth, your core clenching around his fingers, then he bit on your lobe and that was it, your trigger, your orgasm washed over you, your body shaking in spasms of utter pleasure. Shutting your eyes closed you leant back into his warmth, his hands roaming your body, he hugged you close.

You made love all night, you just couldn’t stop enjoying each other’s body, scent, touch, the fear of losing one another had you both stay awake until dawn, you had talked, sobbed and drowsed for about an hour.

The morning came, you woke up before him and watched him sleep, your heart sinking even more at the idea of letting him go. His eyes fluttered open, he smiled feeling your hand caressed every featured of his face, your thumb grazing his lips, he caught it between his teeth, you smiled then his arms snaked around your waist he pulled you to his warm chest where you snuggled.

Feeling his lips on your neck, you sighed at the sensation, he nibbled on your ear lobe, you squirmed under him. He hovered over you while his left hand brushed your folds arching your back at his delicate touch.

“Bucky!” you whimpered. He caught your lips in a passionate kiss, biting and sucking at its lower part. 

You wanted to feel him deep inside you once again. You reached for his cock, he was already so hard, his forehead on yours he watched as you pulled long, slow strokes. His eyes fluttering close, growling. He closed his fist around yours, squeezing a bit tighter then you both guide his throbbing cock to your wet folds, clutching his balls as he buried himself deep inside. He released a moaned as you do, his large cock stretching you for the 5th times since last night. Hands scratching his back, his head resting into your neck, his groans reaching deep inside you. You suddenly flipped him over, he tried to seat up but you pushed him a cocky smile on your face, he surrendered.

Trailing hot kisses along his hot body, from his sharp jaw line by his collarbones to his nipples, to his tones abs. Your breasts framing his twitching cock, you pressed your bosoms together while kissing his abs, moving up and down slowly. Bucky grabbed the sheets, the sensation of his hard member between your breasts and the look on his face were fascinating. You pecked the head of his cock, he moaned swearing under his breath at the thrill it gave him. 

“Y/N!” he whined, you licked a long stride from the base before wrapping your mouth around the tip and sucking him gently, your tongue swirling around his thick cock. You relaxed your throat as much as you could, and took him all the way in, you endured the burning sensation as you saw Bucky’s shocked but mesmerized intense gaze on your action. You released his shaft with a little pop, suddenly he caught the back of your neck with his right hand before you could take him in again, crashing his lips on yours, tongues fighting. 

“Doll, you’re stunning!” he breathed against your sore lips. 

“I’m not done with you Sergeant!” he growled at the nickname, you straddled him, your back was facing him, he immediately grabbed your rear as you slipped on his cock with a slam, wailing at the process. You moved your hips in circle, bouncing on his shaft you felt his large hand spanked your ass hard, the slap made the muscles at your centre tightened resulting in you moaning aloud. 

“Would you do that again!” you asked him breathlessly, he complied, your head leaned backward as he did so, he took the opportunity to bring your body to his and pounded into you, while his hands roamed your body, fondling your boobs and biting your neck. 

“Bucky, I..” you cried out, feeling the tremendous bliss enveloped you  “Come with me!” he grunted. You both came undone in a messy cry out.

He put the cover on your bare bodies, he went on top of you leaning on his elbows, you looked deeply into his bright blue eyes, feeling is sincerity, love, sadness, lust and dedication. You wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him like your life depended on it, the weight of his body on yours was nothing as you wanted him as close as possible.

.

Watching him dressing up from your bed, laid on your stomach, swinging your bare legs, outrageously naked, Bucky had trouble not looking at you. When he put his tie around his neck, he glanced at you. Chuckling you rolled on the edge of the bed and stood up totally naked and tiptoed to him.

“Get over here, Sarge” you ordered, he hesitantly took a long stride forward.

He inhaled loudly, seeing your bare bosoms pressing against his uniform, the cold buttons making them perky. You tie the necktie just like the first time you've flirted with him, making sure to take your time. Finally he took his cap, putting it on, you tilt your head looking at him then grabbed the cap, wearing it askew you then pulled on his tie, locking your lips with his. 

He couldn't resist anymore and grabbed your bare butt, squeezing it. 

“Gosh doll! You're amazing! he sighed between two sloppy kiss, I’m gonna miss you Y/N” You jumped wrapping your legs around his waist.

“You better come back Bucky Barnes!” He hugged you close, caressing one last time your soft body, his fingers grazing the small of your back, making you shivered.

“Promise.” He answered. You swept a tear before he could see it. With a final passionate kiss, holding you until he was on the doorway, and he was gone.

You plopped down on your bed, covering yourself with the sheet, the tears flowed from your eyes inevitably unable to control your feelings anymore, you cowered on yourself for a few hours, falling asleep in the fetal position.

You woke up at Oliver voice at your door. He let himself in, “Oh Y/N, he said softly, seeing the state you were in, you have to get up Boss.” 

He had seen Bucky leave when he arrived at the store, he had found it judicious to leave you alone a little before coming in.

Reluctantly you left your bed heading to the shower where you cried again. Oliver had made the breakfast, you entered the kitchen wearing your bathrobe, he caught you by the shoulders leading you to the chair, you were easy to manipulate for once, the face down but still adorning an after-sex glow that your skin couldn’t deny. 

”Here, have some!” putting a mug of coffee in front of you. You stayed both silents a few minutes, facing each other at the kitchen table. 

“Aaah I wish this war won’t take long, so I can find myself a young man and that yours come back!” Oliver dreamed out loud sighing, you inevitably smile as he recount one of his many adventure with young lads.   

.

The days went on, his absence was still unbearable even though he wrote you as much as he could. In your letters you would detailed what you wanted to do to him, and what you wanted him to do to you, some kinky stuff you’d never thought you would like to try before. You did not care a tad that someone could read the letters before him. 

He would answer that he was desperate to touch your soft skin, to lost himself into you while your fingers would be through his hair on his scalp and then run them all the way down his neck. To have his face deep between your legs while his hands would fondle your perfect breasts. Even by only reading his letters you could get off!  

It was really enjoyable and reassuring until the letters stopped, you became so worried that you focused on work to not mope around. Oliver became worried when instead of eating you would take appointments over appointments, he’d forced you upstairs to eat or he would bring the dinner down the fitting room. And he’d argued with you. You were a pain in the arse! 

“Boss! Y/N!, he snatched the pen from your hand, you have to eat! First because I need you to be healthy and second do you think James would be happy to come back to a woman in poor health!”  

You looked up at him, he wasn’t wrong but since Bucky’s letters had stop, well you stopped hoping he’d come back to you.

Oliver continued “Girl when he’ll get here you’ll have to be healthy as hell ‘coz he won’t let you sleep for a while!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, a few tears escaping your eyes. After all Oliver was a contagious optimist. You ate this day and all the others, you had to take care of yourself anyway. 

One day you were at the front desk and someone that you were not expecting pushed the door ringing the bell. 

“Hey stranger!” You scolded the oh so famous Peggy Carter as she entered your shop.

“Hi Y/N, forgive me I've been MIA, busy days in the army, you know.” she nonchalantly salute you.

“Actually I don't. You know what I think about guns.” you stayed both silent for a few seconds before smiling and hugging your best friend.

“At least write me once a month, so I know you're alive!” you said, scoffing.

Then you look behind her, your arms falling to your sides, eyes wide and mouth agape.

“Oh yes, He is why I am here, his name is..” Peggy started gesturing at the strong guy trying to hide behind her.

“Steve?” you asked the tall blond man in front of you.

“Uhm Hi Y/N..” he scratched the back of his neck not looking at you in the eyes.

You approached him, studying his new aspect. Then suddenly “What have you done!” you hit him in the chest, hurting yourself more than him. No wonder you haven’t seen him this past few days!

“Y/N I'll explain, promise, raising his hands in defense, you know I have to help.” 

You look at his new features, still feeling like you were talking to a total stranger. But the look in his eyes was still the same you saw in this dark alley about a year ago, full of determination and kindness.

“You won't need me to kick butts for you anymore.” You crossed your arms and he chuckled.

You explained how you knew each other and Peggy explained what was the plan for Steve, you frowned at the idea, but Steve told you it was a way to get closer to the front lines, you knew that whatever you’d said he was going anyway, so you’d helped. You were measuring him, because of obviously the man needed clothes that fitted, when Steve looked at you, you had your mind elsewhere.

“What's wrong Y/N?” he grabbed your forearm.

“Steve, I .. I haven't heard about Bucky since a while now, his letters have stop..” you inhaled loudly, holding back tears.

“Y/N, I'll bring him back, I promise you.” he hugged you, you felt so tiny in his arms, it used to be the other way around, yet it was comforting because you trusted this guy as much as you trusted Bucky.

“You better Rogers, or I'll go there and kick both of your ass!” you threatened, slapping his arm with the tape. He smiled holding his biceps like he had felt the slap.

“We're done Peggy” you called out. Oliver came out the stocks supply at the same time and gasped loudly seeing Steve's tight t-shirt hugging his perfect chest. Peggy eyed Oliver, unblinking, almost like a predator protecting his prey, Steve being the prey. 

“No cat fight in my shop folks!” you mentioned as you went to the main desk behind the curtains.

“Hey, Peggy approached you, Steve told me about your man, James is it?” you nodded a sad smile appearing. 

“You know, she nudged your arm, if their relationship is like ours he would find him no matter what and bring him back. If you were god knows where in trouble it’s what I’d do! And you would scold me for putting myself in danger for you obviously!” she said rolling her eyes, and you both laughed. 

A few weeks after Peggy and Steve had visited your store, the phone rang Oliver answered then you heard him stammered.

“Y/N! BOSS!” he shouted.

You almost ran to the main desk worried, Oliver never shout like that, he held the phone to you with an unreadable look on his face. You became anxious until you heard Peggy’s voice.

“Gosh Peg it’s you! Is everything okay?” you inquired, hitting Oliver’s shoulder with a swatch book. He frowned with an indignant air and mouthed “What was that for!?!” 

“Yes everything’s fine, said Peggy over the phone, just wanted to let you know I’m coming back tonight, Steve too and ... Y/N...he found him.”

You stopped breathing, thinking the worse had happened. 

“He is fine Y/N! you felt that she was smiling on the over end of the phone, and you dropped on your knees, relieved, you laughed nervously letting all the anxiety flow out your mind and body. “Thank you, thank you Peggy! Call me as soon as your in town! Love you” you ordered.

“Yes m’am! you were pretty sure she had salute, love you too sweety, see you in a couple of hours!” 

Oliver knelt down beside you, tears of joy now running down your cheeks, he sobbed with you, you apologized to him because these past few months had been hard for the both of you, mainly because of your annoying behavior, he just hugged you tight.

“Thank god, no more sloppy boss! he said aloud, swiping his tears

You laughed out loud, you didn’t even hear a customer coming in until he scraped his throat. You looked up and he stared at you two, cocking an eyebrow. Oliver stood up, helping you up your feet.

“I’ll take care of it, go make yourself decent!” he pushed you to the stairs. 

.

You entered the bar, trying hard to stay calm, your fingers twisting your purse’s trap. You saw the Howling Commandos, you remembered them from the newspapers, when you couldn’t see Buck with them, your heart started to fail you, was he really here!

"Y/N!!" He stood up from his bar tool, your felt so relieved as you saw him. Bucky lifted you, and peppered your face with kisses, your arms wrapping around his neck. You breathed in delight his intoxicating scent, one his hand on your neck while his other arm had you pinned against him by the waist, your feet not even touching the ground. Bucky’s eyes were closed, enjoying to have you in his arms at last. None of you wouldn’t let go. 

"I'm sorry I should have come to you sooner but ... I didn't want you to see me like that" he leant back looking at you apologetically. 

He was tired, you could see he had loose weight, he wasn’t wearing is all Sergeant’s uniform, his hair falling down on his forehead. You brushed his hair back with your fingertips, he closed his eyes feeling your touch, he kissed your hand keeping it on his cheek, he just wanted to feel your skin against his after all this time. 

“Can we go home, doll?” he asked you under his breath, almost pleading with his eyes, you smiled softly at the sweet name, so glad to hear it again. 

He was in need of a safe place where he could unwind, and you were willing to give him.

.

.

Part 4 

[aphoticpits]

B&B Chapter 1A

Every night the ocean would rise and swallow me whole. As I sank to the bottom of the ocean like a heavy rock, the lush ocean bed would rise and give me footing. The garden in the ocean was rich and bright and it welcomed me with open arms. As I lay in the ocean garden, waiting for my breath to run out, a bright orb of light would silently float towards me as the weight of the water came crashing down on me.

I opened my eyes as the clock struck three. I was wide awake and my body was alert. The snores around me rose and fell in an undulating rhythm as my numerous siblings around me slept in peaceful stasis; their worries and lives all on halt in the brief darkness of the night. My breath broke the hypnotic rhythm of their deep slumbering. I heard my mother jostling around as she went back and forth between the kitchen and the tiny little room beside ours, tending to our little brother, sleeping by himself. My little brother coughed a deep, hoarse cough and it sounded as if perhaps, he may have coughed up his lung itself. I heard my Mother’s sniffles as she ever so softly hummed to him. He coughed again. It was then I realized I was sweating profusely. My clothes were drenched and my hair was matted. I remembered the vivid and intense dream that had been pervading my restless sleep for the past few nights. 

The heavy silence broke the rhythmic snores as I realized that today was the last day I would wake like this. Today was the last day I would be surrounded like this as I went to bed and as I awoke. I watched Nayung, my older sister sleep beside me like a fallen piece of lumber on the roadside and realized that I had very little to remember her by. She and I interacted maybe once a day, primarily when she woke me up. She was secretive as I was quiet and this suited us just fine. 

I was the 4th child. A feared number and in some cases, an unlucky omen. There was nothing great about being 4th. My two older sisters Yuuna and Ai wielded significant influence in our household while Nayung and I slipped into the background. Yuuna and Ai were neither beautiful nor ugly but had an assertiveness in their manner that many boys found attractive. They were fast friends and even closer sisters. Yuuna and Ai always had each other’s backs and their sense of filial piety made them a vital part of the household. Yuuna worked at the market, shucking oysters for a living and gave all her income to the family. Ai, younger than Yuuna was apprenticing to be a seamstress and working part-time at the market alongside Yuuna.

I had one younger sister, Chi, whom most agree, was the prettiest of us all. She shone like a bright star and captivated the hearts of the crankiest old men. She was sweet with her tongue and quick-witted all the same. She had vivid daydreams and wilder tales to tell. Chi was loved by all but unfortunately, Chi hated our little island village. She fantasized about the enigmatic mainland that offered a plethora of experiences that the village couldn’t even fathom. Chi confided in me mostly because I said very little. She told me of the boys that pursued her and her brutal rejection of their unsophisticated wooing and their provincial ambitions. However, her manner of rejection came dripped in honey and doe-eyed sincerity and thus no one really caught on to Chi’s disdain and underlying contempt.

“I can’t wait till I’m old enough to leave this dump town. It’ll be the last I see of that old goose!” she ranted one day about our old neighbour who reprimanded Chi for being too wayward.

“You’ll come with me, won’t you, Una?!” she asked me suddenly; pleadingly. 

“Of course.” I comforted her untruthfully. 

 I also had two younger brothers whom, perhaps on account of being the last ones born, were both tender and weak. Li, the second youngest was hearty in body but had a weak mind. He idled all day and shirked responsibility like the plague. He had a handsomeness to him that, like Chi, allowed him the luxury of sweet talking his way out of things. Li always meant well however and his lies never broke the extent of simply getting out of chores. 

Yaru was my youngest brother. Physically, the weakest of us all, emotionally perhaps the strongest. He was born with a frail body and a wide smile and loved to laugh and talk as much as he hacked and coughed. He loved as he laughed; wantonly and willingly. Yaru was my favourite but time was not Yaru’s friend. Increasingly weaker and frailer as he grew older, by the age of 12, he spent most of his time on his flimsy mat, sick and weak. I watched over him when my Mother was busy with the others and he read to me on occasion. Yaru loved to read. He told me of the other side; a world that plundered as much as it developed. The many new and fascinating things that were born at a constant and steady rate that made things like his sickness go away. Although we barely had enough to eat, Father kept up a steady flow of books for Yaru from his dealings with the buyers at the fish market. He was gone at dawn and returned after dusk, usually with fish he caught that day and vegetables for dinner as well a book for Yaru. Father taught Yaru the basics of reading and it took a life of its own in him. Yaru even taught me how to read. Our bond was strong and for a time, I thought it infallible. Then, the day came when Yaru coughed up blood.

At this time, however, I felt nothing. I surmised that upon being sold off, there should be a sense of panic as that is what most would assume would be a reasonable reaction. Yet I lay in bed thinking about Chi. I thought about her desire to leave and I thought about how little I cared for the world outside this village. In all earnestness, I thought I would live and die here in this little island village, cast aside from the mainland, enveloped in its own sleepy bubble. I closed my eyes and let the ennui and resignation wash over me. All I knew was, me going away would save Yaru. Somehow. 

Mother and Father had asked me not to tell anyone of this transaction. Mother never looked at me once, her eyes firmly focused on her hands folded in her lap. Father sat stoically on his heels, looking straight into my eyes. 

“I hope you understand why we’re doing this, Una” he said. “This is for the family. Yaru is very sick and he needs medicine that we cannot afford. I hope you know that we’re not making this decision lightly.” I looked at my Mother who sat in silence.

“Why me?” I asked quietly

“You’re the only one we can count on” he replied in a heavy voice.

“I understand.” 

I knew it was not Yaru’s fault yet I couldn’t squash the rising feeling of rejection growing inside my heart. I knew that my parents did not love me as they loved my siblings, but they had faith in me. It was a type of love, I suppose but for now, I didn’t care for love, nor for people.